&nbsp;

&nbsp;

<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11357" rel="attachment wp-att-11357"><img class="size-medium wp-image-11357 alignleft" title="IMG00280-20120929-1324" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00280-20120929-1324-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

I live in a condo.  Which is really more like a patio home.  Because I have....well....a patio for a backyard.

&nbsp;

For a few years after moving into the condo, the backyard/patio consisted of dirt.  I am by no means a do-it-yourself-er.  And newly divorced teachers don't have extra spending money to spruce up empty yards.  I barely had enough money to survive.

&nbsp;

A friend finally convinced to me put some rock and desert bushes back there.  Approximately 8 years later, the bushes have taken over.  Periodically, the sage bushes bloom and invite every bee in the neighborhood over for a soiree.

&nbsp;

Consequently, I never sit in my backyard.  Ever.  Would you?

&nbsp;

Even Bella is hesitant to go out there during the bee invasions.  And terriers are not picky about too many things in life.

&nbsp;

My friends have spruced up their patios into enticing miniature entertainment venues.  Last November, Dina hosted Italy Night.  We ate authentic Pasta Carbonara prepared by a Real Live Italian, drank Italian wine, and listened to Italian music.  It was bliss.

&nbsp;

I coveted my neighbor's patio that night.  It's taken me almost a year to get organized with transforming mine.

&nbsp;

The main reason for my procrastination is my commitment-phobia with my condo.  I'm constantly fantasizing about moving.  One week it's Italy.  The next week it's California.  The week after that it's North Carolina.

&nbsp;

I've never been to North Carolina, but for years I've dreamed about moving there.  I don't know if my North Carolina yearnings stem from an intuitive calling

link to pinterest board