Destruction 365... plants go outside for a reason.

Ahhh, my child. I love him. Seriously--absolutely adore the ground he walks on. I'd walk to the ends of the earth for him. I'd die for him, probably kill for him. I'd starve so that he could eat. I'd die of dehydration that he could drink. I'd freeze so that he could be warm. Anything, I would do or give up for this boy. [Or for any of his brothers...]

So why on earth does he go out of his way to incur my wrath? I mean, seriously--Time Out can't be that fun, can it? Being scolded surely isn't the best way to spend any given moment. So why, I ask, does he torment me so? Especially given the lengths I would gladly go to ensure his survival?

These are questions that I hope some day to have the answer to.

My trees. Trees that I've nurtured through the hard, cold winter of Indiana, drove thousands of miles to Seattle with to endure yet more winter, babied since they were wee seedlings not yet worthy of the title "tree" [or even shrub, for that matter]. My beloved trees.

You see, the weather in Seattle is just as confused as the weather in Indiana, it would seem. Just last week, I'd seen and felt the sun enough that I thought it would be safe to take them outside for some air and more direct sunshine. Then, overnight, it snowed, killing off some of the few leaves that had grown during the winter months. Of course, I brought them back inside, back to their nice, safe spot. A place where they can get enough warmth and sunshine to endure and grow during the cold. C normally assists me in watering these trees. Which, by all rights, should have been the first sign that he'd attack them once my back was turned [or my face in the toilet, as it were in this particular case. Thank you, Flu.]

So there sit, my carefully nurtured plants. In chaos and destruction.

Off to go purchase more soil and bigger--safer--pots...