Day of Labor

Last year, for Labor Day, we stayed in Park City, attended the Willie Nelson concert at Deer Valley, and consumed copious amounts of delicious buffalo mozzarella while dining downtown. This year, there was to be no reprise of last years events. We need to place our current home on the market, pronto. There are too many bulging closets, an ample amount of dust bunnies burrowing under sofas, love seats, and bookshelves, and an overzealous sea of sunflowers threatening to devour our backyard. So, labor on this labor day weekend we did.
Brad armed himself with a pair of large clippers, declared war, and defeated the finch-friendly-yellow-petaled warriors. He then built a small rock wall and stairway in our northeast corner.
I armed myself with garbage bags and dust cloths and took on the 3 treacherous basement bedrooms. One of the bedrooms is really our office, complete with an undiscovered storage room floor, which is home to numerous sewing supplies and photos galore.
At noon we disengaged from warfare in order to travel to Orem for lunch at Grandma and Grandpa Wright's home. We then resumed the day's duties and only rested for a labor day dinner picked from our own overgrown jungle of fragrance and pollen, known as 'the garden'.
Although we slept in our own beds, had little entertainment (besides the requisite car ride video They Might Be Giants ABC's ), and ate our own food, our labor day was lovely. And we have the photos to prove it.



The girls, probably watching something forbidden. Maybe that obnoxious, noisy, Sponge Bob. His square pants are not allowed to grace my television, my children need little tutoring in the whiny, loud behavior department.




Brad's rock wall.



Lunch.