I’m hoping I just prevented my yard from making the transition from meadow to rainforest.
It was -this- close. Indeed, I held up thumb to index finger merely a breath apart.
The attempt that was made to clear out the weeds before I moved into this house was half-assed, like much of the installation of the albeit amazing quality materials inside the place, but I can’t wait around and hope that the landlord sends someone over that’s actually willing to do what he’s being paid for. That is clearly too much to ask.
You can’t give $20 to a day laborer and expect them to do $50 worth of work. I don’t know for sure if that was the case, but it happens a lot around here.
I actually had a little fun working outside. Every time I abolished some kind of post-dandelionesque bloom, I imagined a combination of Horton Hears a Who’s and that alien race inside the locker on Men In Black being catastrophized.
Yes, that’s a word, because I used it and therefore it is.
Tomorrow will be more sweat and more sunscreen, and hopefully even more accomplishments. You’re more than welcome to help, but keep in mind I pay merely in beer.
Is it really only Saturday?