Because it's better to ask for forgiveness than for permission

About three weeks ago my husband spent an entire Saturday in our backyard. I didn't realize it, but he had big plans. Hours into the project I let Beckham out the back door and saw that Curtis had built a fence across a corner of our yard. He forgot to run that one by me. It was definitely a wood fence built with leftovers we had from remodeling the house. And it closely resembled a horse corral. "Am I getting a pony?" I asked. It was to keep Beckham, who is quite pony-like, out of a certain area so the grass would grow.

I was horrified by the fence and I thought my husband had lost his mind. We don't have a privacy fence in our backyard and this lovely makeshift corral would be visible to the neighbors. And to me...every time I stood at my kitchen sink, walked through the laundry room, or let one of the animals outside. It was hideous. Lord, WHY can't we have deed restrictions? Is it bad that I wanted to tattle on my own husband?

Within two days Beckham conquered the barrier. This further fueled my distaste for the Stupid Fence. "It doesn't even work! When are you going to take it down?" You could have smelled my attitude four blocks away.

Then Spring Break came and brought some nice rain with it. Beckham was in Houston with me - four hours away from the sacred corner. When we returned, the whole area was filled with very tall, very thick grass in a shade an Irishman would be proud of. Mission accomplished.

On Thursday evening Jackson and I were out and about and Curtis was here doing another project. When I got home, the ugly pony fence was gone, the grass was mowed, a new flowerbed was prepared, and there was a little path of river rocks. The crowning glory of it all was a wooden swing for two, complete with citronella torches nearby.

Backyard hades has been redeemed. A little piece of heaven is visible to me every time I stand at the sink, walk through the laundry room, or let one of the animals outside. That was the plan all along. I can't believe it, but I'm glad he "forgot" to run that one by me. Call me Humbled.