Everything is coming up roses
Wifey and I have owned six homes during our marriage. Six. I like to move. And when we move not only does the furniture come with us but so do the plants in the garden. Yup. Uprooted and hauled to the next house.
Take this one. It's a rose. But it's just not any rose. It originated in the garden of Wifey's grandmother. What's equally amazing is that Wifey remembers all that stuff. Where this came from. Where that originated. Who owned that and handed it down to our family. Me? I never think about those things. Why should I when Wifey takes care of that end of the family business.
It's an easy Friday. Might do this. Might do that. Nothing in the have to do column. Wifey plans on having Friday drinks with a couple of lady friends while Bob stays at home to mind the grandchild. It's just another rosy day.