The Hope Springs Eternal B & B

You might think that this photo illustrates yet another dangerous mode of transportation for Mace. But if you think that, you've got another think coming (see, that's how that expression goes, people -- it's not, "If you think that, then you've got another thing coming"). You are probably focused on the adorable wee one being pushed around the porch on a hand truck by a father who thinks it's great fun to put his kids on dangerous things with wheels just to terrify their mother. But what you should be focusing on is that plant hanging above the bannister. I have been trying to resurrect that plant for a year and it refuses to fully participate in my rehabilitation program. It just won't engage. I have fertilized it, watered it, cut it back, frozen it (during that one night last winter), stopped watering it (when the automatic watering system somehow got unplugged) and moved it into the sun, out of the sun, into the sun, out of the sun. But I think it's time to let it go.

So this photo actually represents my misplaced hopes for running a bed and breakfast someday. It was going to be called the "Hope Springs Eternal Bed and Breakfast" and all the rooms were going to be named after quilting block patterns ("Winding Ways," "Jack in the Pulpit," "Castle Wall," "Double Wedding Ring" -- you get the idea -- wouldn't that be quaint?). But, as everyone knows, if you can't keep plants alive, even with an automatic watering system, you are not destined for B & B greatness, no matter how great your grits casserole is (and mine is darn good).