So, my doorbell rings a bit before eight this morning, and this is pretty much what I see outside:
The other day, when we planted our rose tree, Glinda — who did most of the digging — commented that it simply reinforced her belief that she should never murder anyone if she was going to have to bury the body since she would probably be arrested before she’d manage even a shallow grave. Well let me tell you, the answer to this is a backhoe. There is now a hole down to China in front of my house. Apparently all or part of this thing called a buffalo box was missing, and now it’s being replaced. Cool. A bit late, but cool.
Also in the news: I got a large scum-buster yesterday and this morning I tried it out on my kitchen floor. It works pretty well, IMO, but did uncover an unexpected problem. It seems that my grout is not black.
Below, photos of the most recent pieces of furniture I’ve gotten:
My floor is covered with styrofoam schmutz.
On Sunday, Glinda and I worked outside for a few hours. There was an electrical mishap. We no longer have a fountain. This led to a lot of brainstorming about what the garden should look like, and we both decided we’d prefer to have a wall fountain. We also decided that in spite of loving wisteria, our vines aren’t really doing much except threatening the electrical lines. They don’t bloom except at the top where they’re on a horizontal plane. So I think we’re going to replace it next year with an apple tree. I found a semi-dwarf honeycrisp, and since there’s an apple tree in the next yard I don’t think we’ll need to plant another for polination!
Once we clear out the things we no longer like we’ll plant a more cottagey garden. We both love banks of flowers. This will open up a larger expanse of lawn for us to use for parties.
It’s ten. All the noise has stopped. Maybe I’ll just go take a nap.