Don’t have such a beautiful yard if you don’t want me to photograph it.
Never has sixty degrees Fahrenheit felt so glorious.
Not as spectacular as the trees in DC, but you will not hear me complaining.
Of all the words she could refuse to say, she had to choose this one.
The neighbors must have thought it was raining bubbles.
Look what she found in the yard.
If my children’s hair were a tree.
Someone had best knock that groundhog upside the head.
“Because we live in Utah” is now my standard explanation when anything goes wrong.