Gardening.
I am bloody sick of gardening, everytime I go out there and do stuff more stuff needs to be done. It' s never bloody ending. I cut back all the hedges two weeks ago and they've grown bloody back! The lawn needs to be cut again and the beds I filled with shrubs and annuals are choc full of dandilions and daisies that appear to be thriving despite my digging them up every other day. Urgh, and I won't go into the smiders and slugs and snails and weird wood lousey things that look like armadillos. Blee max 5.
And then there's the weather, rain and wind and sun and no sun every two to five minutes is not exactly ideal, jacket on/jacket off. Cross making. Plus when I lifted up one of the 20L bags of top soil it had split rather mysteriously during the night and it went everywhere.
After a brief furious crying jag -where stuff got kicked across the 'lawn' HAH!- I have retired in here to sulk.
In fact fuck sulking, I'm going to the gym. The garden can go to hell too.
Gardening, sometimes I"m against it!
And then there's the weather, rain and wind and sun and no sun every two to five minutes is not exactly ideal, jacket on/jacket off. Cross making. Plus when I lifted up one of the 20L bags of top soil it had split rather mysteriously during the night and it went everywhere.
After a brief furious crying jag -where stuff got kicked across the 'lawn' HAH!- I have retired in here to sulk.
In fact fuck sulking, I'm going to the gym. The garden can go to hell too.
Gardening, sometimes I"m against it!
Labels: grumpy
posted by fatmammycat at 2:36 p.m.
16 Comments:
There's a great solution for your gardening woe's. It's called concrete.
I like your thinking Mike.
Stupid iPod needs charging, but THEN I'm going to stomp off. Oh what am I saying, iPOd I luv you.
My fiance is against gardening as well and would rather pay someone else to do the dirty work. I don't mind doing a bit of gardening now and then, but I certainly have no problem sitting here in the sun room watching the "lawn boys." Life is good.
Lawn boys!? Where in the hell can a person herself a few of those? I'm asking... for a friend.
At least you actually make the effort to attack your garden...I couldn't be arsed. I prefer untamed, wild, horrible views out my back window. And I live in a flat in Smithfield
dandelions and daisies??
hon, you have a Wildflower Garden amongst your shrubbery. make yourself a mojito and celebrate the spring.
grumpy??
well, at least a bear isn't ripping your heart out of your chest cavity and eating it.
Share my lawn boys? I don't know... Maybe if I get the fiance to put in a pool I can get some pool boys. Then there will be enough to go around!
Wild flowers my sainted arse. What ho Finn, imagine spraying the Pooh Bears, I dont think she's be too worried. What do we think an adult moose weighs in at?
Dead Star! Harro, I've spent many a filthy early morning in a lock-in in a certain pub over in Smithfield, pints were drunk, fight were had and once a Norweigan was arrested. Fine times.
You don't have to share them if you dont' want, just oil 'em up and take photos. For a friend! A friend I say!
Lawn boys and pool boys, yes please!
Eva, don't forget the oil!
Lawn boys
And pool boys
And oil
Oh my!
(you Wizard of Oz fans will understand)
mikec: fuck concrete...napalm the shit out of it (watch out for eight year old vietnamese girls btw).
You can get napalm in woodies...aisle 7...ask the hairy, gormless, acne-ridden, speed-metal lovin' shitbag drifting close by...and hope he/she/it (delete as appropriate) doesn't ask if you want fries with it..
Oh I MISS gardening! We're living in a thumbnail-sized apartment with no nature whatsoever, and I miss it!
Except, of course, for the effect it has on one's fingernails. Those gloves are useless.
I'm with you, FMC. Fuck Nature; I'm allergic to most of it.
The Spouse Sparrow takes care of all the gardening-type stuff now, thankfully. I'm sure nature never intended for poor Spouse Sparrow, a former pasty-faced Norn Iron boy to be drudging in 119 degree heat in Southern California, but I'm sure as hell not going to do it; I'm allergic to grass and have a bug phobia. The lawn can cark it, for all I care.
Carolyn, buy window boxes. Much easier to manage and no carting stuff about the place.
Napalm eh? Hear that Sparra? I'll provide the soundtrack if you want the fun of blowing shit to sky high. We can light cigars and watch it burn.
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