Some people leave footprints on our heart. Cats leave fur on our sweaters. Dogs leave drool on our shoes. Families will crap on our doorstep. So when life gives you crap, garden it and make roses.
Thursday, February 05, 2015
Do it Yourself.
I just had to share this with the gardeners who blog and that wouldn't be me. Mosaic stepping stones done the easy way. Put the broken pieces of your trinkets and crockery face down in a cake pan and put the cement over the top and let set. No, I don't know how much cement or how to get it out of the cake pan but when I was mulling this over, I happened to walk past a $2 emporium and they had aluminium turkey roasting pans and not expensive. Brilliant, let the step set and just rip the pan to shreds. Smaller steps for a border around a little garden could be done the same way. I have the crockery, I don't have the cement but one day my garden will dazzle. Well, part of it will. The water meter is disappearing into the ground so a little border around that is a good starter. The glass pebbles can be bought from the $2 shop in different sizes.
Going well on the treadmill. That old saying about a watched pot never boils is also true about the timer on a treadmill. I find that if I close my eyes and go into a slightly meditative state, not too much I have to mind the feet - lift, stride, fast and repeat - then open the eyes sometimes I've been walking for 10 minutes and the green buttons have gone around a full lap. Burnt up 28 calories this morning.
The only problem is that walking around Southland is like walking without a safety net and my balance is still crapola. Thank you to nice door man at JBHiFi who grabbed my arm when I tripped and nearly ended up in a '50 shades of grey' embrace when I turned to thank him and tripped again. Some days I shouldn't be let outside at all.
The Bear is sitting on the treadmill beside me, 4.23 is food time. I am resisting the temptation to turn on the machine, really resisiting. Damn he read my mind and is sitting by the door.
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7 comments:
Congratulations on all fronts.
Really big congratulations.
You are (almost) shaming me into exercise. Much needed, well over due exercise.
You're a stronger woman than I, I might not have been able to resist :)
Congratulations on the treadmill, also for tripping right where someone could catch you. That's a handy skill. I always trip where only the footpath can catch me. Ouch! not that I trip much.
The mosaic steps look nice, it would have to be quick set cement and maybe line the pan with gladwrap or baking paper for easy removal. I'll have to ask someone at Bunnings.
EC, you garden, that's enough exercise for anyone. I don't even water, just yell out the door, that Autumn's on the way, wait for rain.
Ax, he would not forgive me. He really does not like women except for me who opens food cans. He hasn't forgotten the females who sank the boot, walking stick and wheelchair into him at the Home.
River, that's why I thought the aluminium pans would be great, just rip it off. You can buy small bags of quick set cement at Bunnings. I thought a tiny cupcake pan with one glow in the dark stone would make a nice path border.
Poor Icebear, I am ashamed of my evil impulse :(
cover the timer on the treadmill. It makes me want to cry. I hate the damn thing.
I watch crap on my ipad to distract me on the treadmill to help me stay on as long as possible. Even then it is a stretch.
Love your idea for the mosaic. Better idea would be to just concrete the whole yard. I hate gardening.
Sense a theme here?
x
Ax, don't worry if he stops dead in front of me one more time, I'll strap him to the machine.
Kelly, everyone will know when I win Tattslotto, the front and backyards will be bricked but I will leave the trees. Gardens are full of crawling things.
How can you not concentrate on not falling off the machine? If I covered up anything it would the the amount of calories I'd just burnt, 28 in ten minutes, I inhale that much just walking past a box of donuts. The doc told me to work up gently so I anticipate getting to an hour in maybe 2 years.
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