It was spring break and we were home. Facebook posts from friends were showcasing sandy beaches, yummy meals, and fancy-schmancy hotel lobbies and pools.
The first time I went to a drive-in theatre I was about six years old. The motion pictures on the reel that night were not just exciting – they were epic.
Not because my black thumb suddenly turned green, but because my husband had ordered a heap of mulch and I was determined to not have a lame bare patch in the landscaped section of the house.