If My Little Ponies threw up in your yard, it might look like this

Every spring, our neighborhood turns into one big pastel explosion. Our yard is partly to blame. I enjoy photoblogging about it because absolutely none of it is our fault. We get to sit back, relax, and enjoy the fruits of the labor of the avid-gardener old couple who lived here before us. Well, I get to relax. Daddy moans and groans about his bloodshot eyeballs and stuffed-up head.

In the front yard, we have a redbud tree...



...a mystery fruit tree that sports teeny tiny crabapple-looking things in the fall...



...and about a dozen azalea bushes in white, pink, and PINK!, of which this one was the first to erupt in showy color.



In the backyard we have two dogwood trees...



...three or four more azalea bushes, daffodils aplenty, lilies of the valley (which are not yet blooming), and, my very very very favorite in the whole world, a big honkin' lilac bush.



None of these, however, meet the boy criteria for "interesting". This is filled now by our little grove of holly trees. We've recently discovered that they are just about the most perfect climbing trees ever.