\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Yep! That\u2019s about right. My heart is always in the right place; but what I\u2019m doing just seems to get me in trouble.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0It\u2019s the story of my life folks.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For all you following my stories, you probably remember that about this time last year, I mowed over one of Hubby\u2019s prized\u00a0fig trees<\/a>\u00a0in our little orchard of a back yard. Putting it mildly, he was none too pleased.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, he warned me the other day \u2013 now that spring is here and I\u2019m out\u00a0 mowing<\/a>\u00a0the yard again \u2013 that he replaced the tree. Ummm \u2013 news to me. Needless to say, I was standing there with a roller coaster going through my mind wondering if I had already mowed it down. Since he wasn\u2019t jumping up and down and ranting and raving, I assumed that I hadn\u2019t.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I was out mowing the orchard \u2013 back yard \u2013 today and noticed this huge picket \u2013 actually a tall piece of\u00a0 pvc pipe<\/a>\u00a0to be exact. It was marking a very little, teeny-tiny\u00a0 fig tree<\/a>. That tree would have definitely been history! I\u2019ll be safe as long\u00a0 Ryka<\/a>\u00a0and Calypso don\u2019t decide that piece of plastic pvc pipe isn\u2019t their newest toy \u2013 or the tree. AND! Get this! Hubby wants to buy me a zero-turn radius<\/a>\u00a0mower! Is the man nuts, I ask?! I\u2019m am plenty dangerous enough on a regular\u00a0 lawn mower<\/a>, I don\u2019t\u2019 need any extra help!<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m known for doing good deeds; or maybe I should say that I am known for good deeds gone wrong. It is truly not my fault. I must have had a hell-of-a-good time in a former life, because Karma has definitely got something on me. There is a permanent bite mark on my butt!<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You would think that after being married to me for fourteen years, Hubby would remember that I can not tell which way the wind is blowing \u2013 when it comes to knowing which gate to swing open and which to hold open. I inevitably get it the opposite \u2013\u00a0every single time<\/span>. He knows this. There-are-just-some-things-I-do-not-get. I just don\u2019t! So\u2026knowing that, why doesn\u2019t he just tell me every time I get out of the car to open the gates, which gate to secure? Hello \u2013 how many times must the gate scrape the side of his truck, or him take a gate out with his band wagon or boat trailer, etc. until he gets it? I don\u2019t get it!!!<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Incidentally, he may very well think I do this on purpose.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Oh, well. There were a few other good deeds gone wrong that I\u2019ve done recently, but on the off chance someone he knows reads my blog, he hasn\u2019t found out about them yet, so I am not going to expound on them. That should keep me safe for a while. They always surface \u2013 eventually.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So \u2013 the moral of this little Southern story is: The road to hell is paved with good intentions \u2013 usually mine. Bless my little Southern heart!<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Yep! That\u2019s about right. My heart is always in the right place; but what I\u2019m doing just …<\/p>\n

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