Yesterday was kind of a sad day for me. We had a beautiful, tall and lush lilac tree at the corner of our house. It has survived an estimated 100 or so New England winters. It did not, however, survive the Stacey family’s need for more driveway space.

You can’t really see much in this picture, but we’re in a time crunch now. The white Jeep is my neighbor’s, but you can see my Mustang in what is essentially a two-car driveway. In front of my Mustang, parked side-by-side are the husband’s ’59 MGA and the ’49 MG YA he just bought which needs total restoration. Let’s see…a gas grill, the sandbox, numerous vehicles made by Tonka, and the husband’s King Quad and my Rubicon and the tall kid’s Scrambler. That’s why my truck is parked across the end of the driveway, and the van is just out of the shot on the high side. But come November 15th, the winter parking ban begins and the truck & van have to be in the driveway. :lmao:

So we have two weeks to get that area in the picture leveled off and cemented, and then the husband’s going to move his garage tent up there for the two MGs. My Mustang is either going in my stepmother’s barn or in the garage of a guy my husband knows. Barns…cars…*whimpers*

The point of the story—I can barely lift my arms. Between building that wall and removing the tree and hand shoveling tons of dirt (tons more await me today) I feel like I’ve been run over repeatedly by an excavator. I couldn’t even hold a pen last night because my fingers hurt.

Which is really a bummer, because nothing gooses the muse like mindless physical labor.