It only takes one

One. Tiny little word with more meaning than size.

My front yard is a bit on the rough side. Steve spaded an area around the mailbox for planting and I try to do something in it everyday. Today as I was crawling on my hands and knees, communing with nature as much as possible with a paved street six inches from your toes, it only took one damn red german shepard known for biting to ruin the entire experience. I planted mandeville vines around the mailbox and lantana for a back border, all the while peeking over my left shoulder making sure that villan was still on his tie-out. Yes, he has crapped in my yard more than once, and frankly I don't like rogue dog doo on my flip flops.

One damn dog. One damn pile left. Just stepped in it once. The reputation is made.

We have a hot-tub in the back yard. I think I will really enjoy using it when I catch onto the chemical addidtion/adjustment it requires, but for now, I am at odds with these little creepy birds insisting they will live the high life over my spa. They dive-bomb you when you are soaking away your cares and readjusting your karma. They leave colorful, mulberry stained calling cards on the cover and on the railing. Why couldn't they have been song birds like cardinals or oriels?

One hot-tub in my back yard. One set of starlings that refuse to nest anywhere but in the northeast corner of the gazebo. One nest down. One more to go.

Steve left this morning for work as usual. Lately, he is having a love/hate relationship with it, but he keeps going even when it is wearing him down physically and challenging him daily to keep a good outlook. As he left the house, he calls back "love ya baby". I hear the van start in the driveway and I am alone for the rest of the day. Through all the mistakes and all the triumphs (damn few of those) of my life, one thing stands out more clearly each day. It's the little things that really do make the entire difference between horrid and awesome, between mundane and exciting, between ... well just between every opposite. It very well could be just one little thing. He could just leave, just go on and not bother to pass out a bit of sweetness for the day or he could just say the little things. Today, it was just that one thing that made my morning more than just boring. It gave me something to mull over while I was battling angry dogs and renegade birds. Maybe we should sweat the small stuff just a little more. After all, it only takes one.

I have to go check my fences, because good fences make good neighbors.