No Night Sweats N o  N i g h t  S w e a t s No Night Sweats
Sydney's Post-Punk Bands
I Like Music
Slapp Happy are Terrific
A List of CDs
Text is What I Write
Crime Fiction is Silly
[ The Only Power Tool I Know Like the Back of My Hand ]
I spent an inordinate amount of time mowing the front lawn yesterday! This was caused by the vision splendid in my head trying to be transferred to some version of actuality. I normally try to mow the damned thing as best I can : Ie not too many bald spots, generally the same height all over, an even texture about it and, lastly but most importantly, completed in not too much time. However, I have known for some time that, for example, if I don't hold the mower at a certain angle on a certain part of the lawn that I'll invariably create a particularly vicious over-mown spot where grass has little chance of appearing again for weeks. I have never mown this area 'correctly' - Ie to my total satisfaction. But yesterday it was slightly different. On the afformentioned 'spot' I exerted an extreme amount of effort and held up the mower in ways that it was never meant to be held up just so that this area was as delightfully well mown as the rest of the lawn. And
this wasn't an isolated incident!! Last point : NO, I'm not anally retentive.
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