Instead of building sand castles, and running carefree down the beach, we’ve spent another weekend beating ourselves up over not getting as much done around the house as we’d like. Given that the range is seemingly infinite, we shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s frustrating never-the-less.
We now have the clothes dryer mounted on the wall (a sort of postmodern taxidermied trophy), with the ducting properly venting humid, linty air into the great outdoors, instead of (as the previous owners opted for) under the house. The new dryer, in case of the Wellington weather, the clothes drying option of choice is the new rotary clothesline coupled with some sunlight and wind-vigor – brilliant.
I managed to resolve the eyesore irrigation (I dug a hole and buried it), and to eliminate the strange and untidy liana approach to the connecting pipes – again, courtesy of the previous owner. This should make the roses happier – I managed to get the nasty old stumps pruned away, tidied up the bark mulch, and generally the roses are looking better almost immediately. Next weekend I hope to get the rose garden underplanted with spring bulbs, and this’ll inject some fertiliser into the rose beds as well. I managed to limit my blood and skin loss, but I never get away without some wounds…
To top it off I mowed the lawns, tidied the edges, and trimmed the base shoots off the ornamental cherrys. And now, I’m in bed, cozy, tired from working with my hands instead of my head, writing, and listening to the rather heavy rain outside – the first decent rain we’ve had in quite a while. Life isn’t too bad at all.