Well, straw. This could be wordy.
So we decided to stop at Russell Feed on the way home. I'm going to try my hand at straw bale gardening, feeling absurdly inspired after a MckMama post and some covert googling. Andrew rolled his eyes a bit, but I think he'd like to see me succeed at gardening without spending a fortune on raised beds, soil, seeds, greenhouses, lawn services, stakes and twine, knee pads, watercans...you get the idea. This makes it difficult to overspend on supplies before my plants meet their eventual demise in the backyard.
We got there and I pleaded with several strapping young men to make 5 bales of straw fit in/on my car. As they were chatting about how best to reach straw-squeezing success, a man walked by. Lucy was bouncing around at the front of the store and looked up as he walked by. Her eyes lit up and as she threw her arms around his legs, she screamed, "DADDY!!"
As the nice man with the toddler wrapped around his legs untangled himself, he laughed and said, "Well, I can't be positive, but I don't think you're mine."
As Lucy looked on in confusion, they made the straw fit just fine.
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