Yardwork and more yardwork

I spent all day in the yard. I've been averaging a few hours every few days in the yard, but this morning we had a nasty gram from one of our neighbors proclaiming that our yard, which is in a perpetual state of construction, is an eyesore. It seems that we are, in fact, the frum Jews on the block and are holding down the title quite well.

So, I planted, weeded, mowed, moved stones, cleared brush, fought off spiders, got attacked by an overgrown rose bush and now I'm exhausted. The neighbor under suspicion had the chutzpah to take a break from listening to his Def Leppard "Hysteria" album and come out and wave at me. Now, I know I should've waved back, but all I could manage was a cold glare. Maybe next year I'll become a bigger person. Over our ice cream dinner tonight, Soulmate and I were plotting how many magazine subscriptions the guy deserves. And you all thought we were nice...

I'm exhausted. Soulmate is at a shiur for the next hour. I can't find kosher sliced bread here. It makes me sad. I did find some of the "Ezekiel" brand bread - foul sprouted grain stuff that faills to do justice to a peanut butter sandwich. I called BCK, the kashrus organization out of Vancouver, and the rabbi told me to start calling bread companies on a regular basis and encourage them to turn kosher. A one-woman crusade to bring squishy white bread to the citizens of Victoria.

As the weather has gotten nicer, I've found that covering my hair in the heat isn't going to be that much fun. I have scarves. I have cute little cotton hats. I miss the wind in my hair. I went out in a ballcap the other day with my hair in a bun sticking out the back. I was self-concious the whole time. Soulmate and I admitted to each other that, even though we don't like it, it bothered both of us to have so much of my hair showing. I guess we've gone frum...