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
[ That Damned Garden ]
I'm writing this on the holiday Monday whilst I have just enough strength left to lift a finger and tap away mindlessly at the keyboard. Ya see, I've just spent most of this glorious holiday weekend toiling in my damned backyard and I figure that I'll be too sore tomorrow morning to do much of anything until about 9am. Now don't get me wrong - I really, really enjoy the fact that the grounds to my little abode are about 4 times the size of the house but, with one thing and another, we never get enough time to get out there and do the standard gardening chores. Therefore, we wait until there's some sort of long weekend and work ourselves silly : chopping, pruning, killing, weeding, etc, etc, etc. Although I'm as tired as buggery and the 4.9% alcohol in my bottle of Hahn Ice is soothing me even more, I'd have to say that I'm right pleased with the results of the toil. It's a shame that I cant look out my window and see the damn beautification, however, because most of the work was done in a spot that has no natural vantage point from the house. Ah well, my muscles know that it was done and my beer raddled brain can imagine the rest.
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