In Which Ella Apparently Only Likes to Photograph Trees

I figure a good way of beginning to talk about my trip would be to share some pictures.

Ideally, I’d have loads of interesting ones: some of buildings at Yale, one of me making some sort of goofy face, and plenty of shots from all of the walks I took. Unfortunately, that’s not how things turned out. My parents took one camera to Hawaii and Pippa took the other to prom, so I was left with the one on my iPhone. As a result, my selection of photographs is both meager and mostly shots of flowering trees, as Cecelia and George probably don’t want me posting all of my shots of them.

But before we get to pictures of springtime in New England, enjoy a picture of the awesome lemon sorbet I ate at an Italian restaurant.

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Ella and Lawn Mullets

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the term “lawn mullet.” No, it’s not a terrible haircut. It’s just another way to say that someone has a very nice front yard but a terrible back.

Now, it’s a funny term for sure. “Mullet” makes me laugh just as much as the word “soul,” but while I can just giggle whenever references their “soul,” this lawn mullet business is a bit more serious.

You see, there are many things I care about. I happen to have over six hundred books, and I make sure to read over seventy-five books a year. I spend hours searching for dresses to buy. I look up every word or thing I don’t know. But unfortunately, I do not care particularly for plants or yard work.

It’s not that I dislike landscaping. I love visiting botanical gardens and I’m a huge fan of flowers when they aren’t making my cats throw up. I just don’t care for the agony of landscaping upkeep or lawnmowers. I am not good with lawnmowers.

If I put a book or a dress some place, it doesn’t require constant attention and upkeep, and it is impossible for me to kill it. Plants also require long periods of times working outdoors, even when it’s incredibly hot and humid. I am a fan of air conditioning and screened windows. Additionally, I do not like the feeling of dirt under my fingernails.

So if I were left to my own devices, I will inevitably end up with a lawn mullet or turning my yard into a rock garden. But hey, Rock gardens are beautiful, right?

In other news, this year I managed to turn the Christmas tree in a brittle mess and a huge fire-hazard in just under a week. I wonder if they hand out awards for things like this.