Following up on the last episode of AZ DIY Girl, I've found more evidence of covert, munchkin DIY crafting actions. This time Gracie took it outdoors, and to a whole new level.
At our house, "Daddy, can I water the flowers?" means something that has absolutely nothing to do with flowers, but a lot to do with water. We do need to water our flowers off the back porch, because I have yet to run irrigation over to them. However, when our little princess returns from "watering the flowers", the flowers are still somewhat dry, she is a filthy-soaked mess, there is mud all over the patio, and our backyard is a Martian landscape of empty water canals.
Our pristine desert backyard goes from this...
...to this:
At our house, "Daddy, can I water the flowers?" means something that has absolutely nothing to do with flowers, but a lot to do with water. We do need to water our flowers off the back porch, because I have yet to run irrigation over to them. However, when our little princess returns from "watering the flowers", the flowers are still somewhat dry, she is a filthy-soaked mess, there is mud all over the patio, and our backyard is a Martian landscape of empty water canals.
Our pristine desert backyard goes from this...
...to this:
So what? Left alone to her own devices, a kid just blasted holes in the dirt with the hose. How cute, right?
Wrong!,... She was mining.
That's right, the 5 year old DIY'er engaged in hydraulic, high-pressure excavation techniques to acquire the necessary material for her project. I really don't know how she refined it or even how she did the actual crafting, but I did find the results sitting on a plate later.
Arizona snowmen. Mud? Clay? It's dried hard as a rock, dry fired in the 100 degree sun. This must be the stuff the Native Americans used to make adobe homes in the past. This whole thing happened with no more adult awareness than turning the hose on.
The ladies of the craft blogging world really have some competition coming and it's this little delicate flower:
PS - Pay no attention to the god-awful patio stone. The replacement of it's hideousness is on the long term plan.