I just said to my officemate, "You've really got the hate happening today!" about something that comes from another something this morning that stemmed from something about "sex in a can" and I can't explain it.
But thinking of hate, I HATE the back yard at home.
HATE, HATE, HAAAAAAAAAAATE!!!
Well, it's mostly my fault for not being able to work on it for a couple months due to illness and surgery, then being away for nearly a month on holidays and every single weekend since returning being either insanely busy or requiring thigh-high gumboots and three anoraks just to go out on the verandah.
So let's make that about four months all up of not doing anything to the back yard to clean it up. Add to that four big gumtree branches coming down while I was away (and thankfully landing in the yard, not on the house), a couple dead treeferns, huge piles of leaves, long grass and so on and no Jamie Durie to pop 'round and neaten everything up for me... Can you understand my hate?
*sigh*
So this weekend, come rain, hail or snow I'm going to attempt to make a start on the yard. Break out the whippersnipper. Attack things with the garden shears. Assault the creeper that's come over the fence from the neighbour's. Or at least just try to get the top tier of the garden looking vaguely more sane.
And work out just what exactly I'm going to do with the enormous piles of leaves that need to be burned. Bonfire, marshmellows and coal-roasted potatoes anyone?
4 comments:
i wanna come! i wanna come!
Yay! You can help me kill plants if you want too :D
Oooh! Potatos. I'm in!
I'm revising doing it though *lol* Regardless of what I said about rain, hail or whatever. It's pouring down at the moment outside.
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