Priorities; or, why nothing ever gets done on our house

It's more than "the cobbler's children have no shoes." We still have tarps on the front of our house and our "new" (haha—that's a good one) front door is still on braces in the garage, and so what did Husband decide to do on Easter morning while Sophie was at church (yeah, I know) with her grandma?

Build her an archery range.

To go with the compound bow and arrows he bought her for her birthday.

There is a path of stairs along the side of our house that leads to what is called in this neck of the woods a "pocket park," in our view a satellite yard. No one really uses this space, and lawyers have decreed that our home owners association remove the slide and swing set that were once there. We feel it our civic duty to take over and put the space to good use. Hence, the archery range. And later this spring, our personal badminton court.

I get plenty pissed from time to time about the (lack of) progress on our house, but am I cross about this one?

Nope. Not possible. Especially since this evening I could hear peels of laughter and shrieks of delight wafting up the hill. Someone (well, maybe two of them) almost hit a bulls eye.