the sandbox and our new shell garden

For years I have been collecting bits and pieces that I find on the beach. Paua shells. Driftwood. Sea glass. Quartz. Cool rocks. Whatever. They were randomly stashed around the house, in jacket pockets, on the hall table, in backpacks, in various flower pots, in the garage. They were always little treasures without a home. Until today. We made a shell garden in the flower bed above the sandbox. And it's the perfect home for all our beach finds. Perfect for buried treasures. Perfect for decorations in our sandy artwork. Perfect for filling the dump truck. Just perfect.

Last month we converted one level of the garden around the deck into a sandbox and this is the not-so-perfect result.

Jeremy started the project but didn't have time to finish. Nor did he have the right tools. (How come they never have the right tools? And each project requires an expensive trip to Mitre 10? But I'm a scrapbooker so I certainly have no right to complain!)

So we called in a handyman. A very nice guy, but we had to promise him our next born child. And it looks awful. Ridiculously awful. It's times like this (among others, of course) when I sure miss my dad! Anyway it's functional. And hours and hours of fun. And Quincy is learning that getting dirty is actually okay.

He discovered his back pocket and held his little pointer in there for so long.