The funny thing is how long the mulch-purchasing process actually takes, especially when you're negotiating with Frank and me. Last year, the guy left and returned twice; we made multiiple phone calls to wholesale mulch dealers in town to check prices, and a phone call to my parents', too, if I remember correctly; and we ended up with lots and lots of mulch at a very cheap price. All day long, we worked in shifts, so someone could watch the baby, moving the mulch from the enormous pile in the field onto our beds. It went on for hours and hours and hours and hours....
This year, we had already decided that we would only buy half as much, just enough to replace some of the bare spots and make things look fresh. So when the mulch guy came on Saturday morning, we already had a plan.
I also forgot to mention the funniest part of the negotiation process- which was in full swing on Saturday- is that because he is from Missouri, the mulch guy tries to put on this "good old boy" charm, like the price he's quoting is his bottom dollar, and he isn't going to make any money off the sale, etc, etc. It's a trick that probaby works... with everyone except Frank. Frank "good old boy"s him right back, even producing last year's cancelled check to show that he was, in fact, quoting us a higher price than last year (which he said he wasn't.)
So all of this hilarity ended in another mountain of mulch in the field at a cheap price. It was less than half the size of last year, so I decided to start on it on Sunday afternoon.
It really is a mountain. It's hard to see the scale against the vast expanse of prairie.
I made pretty good headway on Sunday, and then finished up today while my mom watched Jacob.
I was too tired to take a picture of how nice it looks all spread out, but trust me, it looks pretty darn good.
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