You know you are offspring of the great Petunia Boy (PB) if you have trimmed arborvitaes at midnight with the aid of the a head lamp, planted 200 box woods a few hours before Prom, spent spring break laying sawed, or planting any of the 6,000 tulips bulbs buried on the Smart property. PB’s was once quoted as saying, “the only reason I had children is so that I could have Yard Slaves”. And he lived by this philosophy. Saturday morning at the Smart household started early and finished with headlamps, sweat, blood, and some tears—and PB loved every moment of it. PB comes from a long line of garden slave drivers including Gma Phyl (who still comes to our house and manages to pick trash bags full of weeds before everyone else even gets out of bed) and Gma Pyper who rumor has it managed to get rid of her back lawn to make more room for her flower beds. As a result of forced yard slave labor, one does not claim Petunia Boy as a parent unless they have some sort of interest in horticulture.
I also was able to see the house where Anne Frank and her family lived for 2 years hidden until they were found and taken to concentration camps. This is the secret passageway that was normally hidden behind a bookcase.
Thanks to the volcanic ash, I was also able to see the Van Gough museum, take a jog along the