We're both a little cracked up.
I'm trying to remember what happened to Tuesday and Wednesday.
I know what happened today. Thank you to fcuknuckle taxi driver who nearly killed me. He made a right hand turn and didn't even look to the left, where I was looking. The old man in the other car had good reflexes and turned into the kerb with his foot firmly on the brake and a prayer in his heart. My driver, and I use the term loosely, never blinked or turned his head. Apparently he can't read numbers either as he sailed past my two numbered bins, a numbered curb and a numbered fence before he pulled up. I waited until he was out of sight before I called him a camel jockey. I might get him again.
Yesterday I was in the garden all day. I have had trouble with the phone and internet cutting out but before Telstra comes out to check the line I have to make sure my trees aren't flinging the wires about. They were, even though the trouble is where the line is attached to the pole across the road. The branches weren't thick so no problem cutting through except for the delicate digits not up to the job or the knees not taking kindly to standing on a pile of rocks. It was the leaves all at the top. Cut the branches and they stayed in place so I had to pull them down without bringing the line as well. Swearing was mandatory.
Her Next Door heard the swearing and asked if I needed help, after the fact, dumb bloody woman. I think she's cut down her camelias along the fence which is bad news for me since her overwatering is good for my camelia. Now I have to mulch it and use my own water. Some people are so inconsiderate.
Then the usual crap of tying them together in small bunches with cotton and having the cut ends all pointing to the gutter edge in neat rows so two burley blokes with a bloody great machine can come and chomp them in two seconds. I hate this council and my protest continues with me paying my rates fortnightly as I want not as they want.
There's still one branch to go but I needs me a chain saw. Why will no-one lend me a chain saw? It's okay now, I've divorced him, there'll be no problem. Why also the high cost of Dettol? I used a gallon on all the scratches on my arms and I have blisters.
The study light globe has blown again and the replacement new fangled globe appears to be too thick to screw in. Bugger it.
There appears to be an earwig plague.
The magpies are using my bird bath as a spa and life style centre.
Scoria rocks can be heavy so if one decides to roll them with a foot one must make sure one rolls them right up the slight slope otherwise they roll back and crush one's foot.
Scoria rocks are a refuge for flat scaley beetles, earwigs and spiders. I hope I crushed a few of them.
I hurt now. I was meant to be a princess not a peasant.
"I was meant to be a princess not a peasant". I said those exact words to my hubby last night. He's all "huh??" so I explained that I'm not cut out to be a working woman, I'm meant to stay at home and be a homemaker (a little dusting, a lot of tv...)and if he ever manages to get a job then I can quit for a while and rest my aching bones.
Ever thought of a flat darls?
River, any chance of renting him out as a garden gnome?
Andrew, I have the place picked out. The Ozone Hotel at Queencliff has been converted and the top floor is now a penthouse with the tower included. All I need is the million and a half to buy it.
it's a jungle Out There
Pith helmet required.
and it's all Telsrat's fault
Garden gnomes breed faster than earwigs, J, you'll be over-run by strange bearded men before you can blink - with not a Lord Sedgers in sight.
HaHaHaHa. He's already a garden gnome. He spends a lot of time out in the yard just sitting and smoking*. With his sun-browned, wrinkled face. Garden Gnome indeed. My nickname for him is troll. Truly. He calls me smurf.
*(because a lot of the time he can't get any peace in his head. I don't know how to help him with that...)
River, he has too many thoughts in his head, he needs a hole to let them out. I'll lend you my geologist's pick.
Jayne, you've discovered his secret identity. He is really the King of the Gnomes and can be seen flitting through the shrubs and bushes on moonlit nights. Don't look if you think it's him, you'll be struck blind by his ordinariness.
Annie, usually I'd agree with you but this time my branches were a bit entangled with the line but it's still the connection across the street.
What a great place the Ozone would be for weekend parties.
Larfin me guts out... this sounds exactly like at my place and the same with the phone line as well...how i wish for a knight on a white charger who would do all the heavy jobs and then bugger off...
Andrew, I had fun times there with my boys in the 80s and it's funny how things change. We used to look at 'Lathamstowe' next door and wonder how it would be restored. Now it is and it's the Ozone that's been broken up into swish apartments. The boys picked the lock on the roof trapdoor and managed to make it outside.
I was lucky Therese, the winds yesterday would have brought the wire down for sure. I didn't even turn the computer on just in case.
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