Strikes and gutter balls

The marigold sprouts needed some real sunshine so I took them on their first field trip. I set them up on the stand in the driveway on Saturday and the poor little things were whipped by the wind so I dragged out a length of privacy fence to block the gusts and as soon as I turned my back it set sail, destination: ground. One bad decision is all it took to loose half of the crop.
***GUTTER BALL***

I rolled out of bed this morning, walked to the bathroom and thought, "hey, I didn't take my socks off and leave them in the hall last night". I turned on the lights and indeed I did not leave socks, but Beatrice left 3 piles of grass laden vomit on the floor. We tell her all the time that she is not a cow, does she listen? No. So good morning papa; little something for ya.
***GUTTER BALL***

Plummeting plants and puke piles aside, it was a nice warm and productive weekend. ***STRIKE*** Miss Jane is in the Real South and we miss her dearly. ***SPARE***