Well, it seems I may be spending a good part of yet another spring working on the yard alone.

Brad and I found out a couple of days ago that he'll be moving his oilrig to Wyoming within the next week or two.

I think it's a conspiracy. We still have work to do on the house. Our door to nowhere is still going nowhere. Our windows still need trimmed out on the inside. And someone needs to climb the three stories in the back yard to get the backside to match the rest of the house.

I think he actually works it out with his bosses -- I can hear the conversation now.

"Hey, I'll take a $2 an hour drop in pay if you'll send me north before spring kicks in to full gear."

What he doesn't seem to realize is that one way or another that deck is going to get built.

By the time I'm done with it, it will most likely look like a jungle gym, but if I have one little piece of wood I can step out on, I can swing my way over to the sidewalk I hope to put in this summer.

Brad will surely want to revamp things when he gets home. I can't imagine him trying to climb through the twists and bends of the jungle gym in his work boots and carrying his lunch pail, paperwork and coffee thermos -- it's one way of getting things done when it seems it will never be done.

Brad told me he thought his absence would help me save money. I'm not sure where he's spent the last eight years, but there's never been anything that has enticed me to not spend money.

This year I think I'll work on the west side of the house; as the years have passed, the fake plants in the stores are looking more and more realistic.

I figure I can find someone that will apply something that will permanently kill every living plant in that particular area, put down some mulch and plant the plastic plants.

That way, if anyone happens to see me out and about, they'll be amazed by the way the yard has been transformed using nothing but my back-breaking efforts and my newly developed green thumb.

And it shouldn't cost Brad more than three months salary.