The first day of Spring is upon us. I watch for the signs, you know. The time change, the subtle rise in temperature, the cookie pusher Girl Scouts delivering their booty, and the leaves sprouting on my backyard Maple. Who was aptly named Lana by a toddler who lived in this house once upon a time.
It was that same toddler that grew up and tossed her sister’s hot pink hula hoop high up into Lana’s naked branches this winter. You can reminisce about that saga here. All attempts to extricate the hula hoop have been in vain. And in fact, have only served to drive the hula hoop deeper into the tree. Since the branches will not hold anything heavier than a hula hoop (and the squirrel that sat poised ready to pounce on my head – click on the picture and you’ll see him and the thirst for blood in his beady eyes) I fear we may never get that hula hoop down.
What is the shelf life of a hula hoop anyway? Any and all ideas for freeing the hula hoop from Lana’s clutches are welcome.
Have a wonderful weekend everyone!