The Gardener

Well, friends, we've managed to reach an all-time low in patheticness.

We've hired a gardener.



Now there are two things I want you to notice about our garden.

First, notice the size. It's so small, we could post it in a letter. Second, notice The Weed That Ate the Universe (And Our Sidewalk Along With It). For a closer look at this magnificent specimen...



We don't know how this thing reached such massive proportions, but somehow during the summer it managed to attack and destroy our lives. We've tried cutting it down, but the thigh-sized trunk merely laughed at us and tried to bite.

So yes. We decided it was time to call in Professional Help.

I'd like to say we have good reasons for it, like I'm pregnant and Scott's got hayfever, but let's be honest. We're all friends here. We just simply hate yard work. And our lawnmower isn't the snazziest, and our strimmer is dead, and no weed killer will ever be a match for The Thing. And I really am pregnant and shouldn't be pushing lawnmowers up uneven, uphill slopes and spraying weed killer, and Scott really does get hayfever which leaves him miserable for days after an afternoon stirring up weed particles and grass cuttings. And best - our best excuse! - our friend Yerik has started up a lawns, trees and hedges business, and what friends wouldn't want to give a pal some work?

So Yerik came over last night and surveyed our lawn. He's going to keep it regularly mowed (for a very reasonable price), and he's going to attack the weeds with - get this - a BLOW TORCH. A blow torch! A gas blow torch will put the weeds out of their misery in seconds, he tells us. Boy, I hope I'm home when he kills The Thing!! Haha, TAKE THAT, SUCKAH!

Now maybe our neighbours will stop sending us gardening service quotes and leaving their rubbish in our yard...



and we'll be able to sit in the back on warm evenings and barbeque while watching the boats sail by.



...without the neighbours cats burrowing in the brush.