The way I hate saplings, I never thought I’d do this.
But then I’d never owned one of these.
I spent yesterday putting down stone where the hot tub will go. I’ve really got it down and every fucking one is placed perfectly. A millenia or two from now, a race unbesotted with bankers will find these pavers and remark at the craftsmenship with which they were laid. When a perfection of level at height was achieved, the 16″ squares fairly sucked to the earth, uttering a final “Whoosh!”
Be that as it may, I’m hurt bad. The grass is coming up along with every kind of weed imaginable. I’ve spent hours pulling them from the yard. My index fingers and thumbs are stronger than steel from pulling fucking dandelion roots. My pecs feel like hamburger.
And it is far from over. At least I have knee pads. Last night the Wife remarked that after these 60 or so were done, she’d like another patio around back, as though the stones were arranged like so many dinner plates.
In her defense, we are amazed that people could have lived in this house since 1972 without ever having a patio.
Baby trees! I love baby trees!
Alas, my Mama’s indian-name is “Tree-killer”.
I also am a great killer of little trees.
The little trees do not count with Mama. She kills giant oak trees (3 at last count). And giant magnolias. Anything that might block the sun on her garden or fall on her house.
Trees fear her.
Yep, my Mom took out 38 pine trees and all the live oaks because she was afraid they were gonna fall on the house. Yesterday, the Wife picked out four biguns in the back that have to go.
Poor trees. I mourn them.
They’re in a better place.
Oh Fec. You make me laugh.
That almost looks better than my Chili for the Asheboro Chili Cookoff– Check out Hot Head Contest Blog http://www.hotheadcontest.blogspot.com/
Another hot site. I recently found the hot wings at Buffalo’s too much to bear, but the medium were perfect.
hot tub, did someone say hot tub, I ‘m there
It was part of the baggage when we moved. It reposes at the end of the driveway awaiting installation. I should live so long.
if you need a hot tub test dummy count me in
We go in au natural. Therefore, vomit bags will be provided. And it’s been a while since I caused a case of psychosomatic blindness. My hot tub name is “the hairless cow.”
A friend of mine orders the medium wings at Buffalo’s but asks for a container of the hot sauce. He then dips the wing lightly in the hot sauce and says it’s the right combination.
Also, they’re not on the menu but ask for the “Daytona” wings at Box Seat. A combination of sauces with some brown sugar on the outside causes a slightly blackened wing. It’s one of my favorites and half price on Thursday.
Somebody really ought to do an exhaustive review of wings in the triad. Even if nobody read it, what fun.
It must be nice having friends.