Over the years they’ve gone from ‘charmingly overgrown’ to ‘hey, I think I found D.B. Cooper’s hiding spot.’
See? Charming. Except ‘charming’ becomes ‘frightening’ when they reach about 8 feet tall. On top of that, quite a few of the older bushes were dead and/or dying, so it was time for a pruning.
I was a bit overzealous. By the time I was done there was more on the ground than left standing.
They look a bit sad, but should grow like gangbusters now that they have more room. They damn well better grow back looking charming and cute, the damn things left me with dozens of scratches all up and down my arms and hands. It looks like I own a very bad-tempered kitten.
I thought I was done for the day. Ha.
About an hour after my husband got home from work, there was a really loud bang outside, which we thought was a neighbor firing off what sounded like a g.d. blunderbuss. However, it was a transformer that went boom, leaving us without power for a few hours.
When all else fails, go back to work!
The man of the house went down into the swamp to cut down all the remaining dead bushes with a chainsaw.
While he was in there, he cut down a small poplar tree and some wild cucumbers as well.
Then came the fun part – burning the brush. Because that’s just what you do. Composting is for weenies. We are nothing if not tacky, and set a (larger) tire rim on top of the (smaller) tire rim fire pit and set it alight.
Darkness forced us back inside eventually, but it was still a candle situation for another hour or so.
As much as I’m tempted to say that was a rare evening, it was not. Me, deciding to tackle something best left to 2 people? Normal. Power outage? Normal. Lighting things on fire? Normal.
See you in a few!