Perhaps I was inspired by Mommy Dearest on this Mother's Day. I felt inspired to tackle some yard. Trinity got going on the lawn mowing. I started clipping and attacking bushes. Remember our bushes? They're not really dead. They're just hibernating. They have green buds on them now, or most of them do. They just needed to be cut back. These were my tools:
For the record, I did tons of trimming with those Paul Bunyan style clippers. I was charging a battery that I thought was for the weedwacker. T informed me approximately one hour later that they were for battery operated trimmers. They were much easier to use. Then the battery died. I didn't get too far, but I made a dent.
Carnage. I threw clippings on the front porch. Part of the skin from my right thumb is on there too. I tried to amputate it with those shear things. Shear craziness, I tell you! I never miss a pun. I believe I cleared it away with the rest of the branches. I was too tired to get the stuff you see pictured. Some might call this a "stoop." It's a porch, jerks.
I implored T to capture my working. I am equally appalled by my paleness, that damned bush and my humpback.
The remnants of a U Bush, post Joan Crawfording. "U be my bitsh!" I screamed at it repeatedly.
My partner worked very hard as well.
Slightly better, I think. Slightly. The trimmers must be charged and I shall do this again very soon. Then I will sell some of my hair to purchase enough mulch to make this home presentable. I look out the window daily for the crew from "Curb Appeal." I fear my neighbors will report us for piss poor landscaping. I plead guilty.
Speaking of neighbors, I had to capture this shot. We are the 1950s version of picking a "model" floorplan. The first three houses on my street are almost identical.
The Nina, The Pinta and The Santa Maria
Now you might be wondering what our Himmy was up to.
It's Sunday, so probably thinking about Jesus.
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