Pond overhauls and rabbits of doom

For those of you interested in the things we’re doing to Our Towers, Saturday morning it was about the pond.  And Rabbits.  Rabbits of Doom….

But first the pond.  We went from this:

To this:

Via this:

(Which was very stinky and ridiculously heavy.  We left it to dry out for the week before getting it in the car to go to the tip this weekend.  Of course, it’s rained every day since so it’s just as wet, but hopefully a little less potent in enclosed spaces….)

Now, the rabbits.

The previous owner of Our Towers left a rather…eclectic set of garden ornaments.  Some I disliked, some I hated.  And then there were the rabbits.  They scare me – so much so I’ve not moved them in case they have some power over the garden; their eyes full of doom follow us around outside.  There is one part way down:

And one right at the bottom:

And I was starting to be kind of ok with them, until we noticed on Monday that another, far bigger one had appeared out of nowhere on the side of the pond.  And he really is scary:

Himself and I are 99% sure he was not there before; I mean, we’d have noticed – he is quite large.  I checked my photos, but I cut that part of the pond out in all the ‘before’ photos.  I know they say rabbits breed like…rabbits, but surely the garden ornament variety aren’t included in that?  But then, how the hell…..?

The rabbits of doom:  I’ll let you know if they breed further.

:o)

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And a new dish is born!

I think I got a bit cocky with my cooking.  I was doing so well, and then…

Well, it’s probably best summed up by the thanks I got from Himself which went as follows:

‘Thank you for the pancakes.  They were delicious.  And thank you for the…um…cauliflower with…um, with the cheese gravy.  That was lovely too.’

It was meant to be cauliflower cheese.  I have no idea how I managed to make the cheese sauce go so incredibly un-saucy.

It’s a good job Himself is so well trained and he not only says thank you, but also eats everything put in front of him, because I don’t seem to be channeling my inner Mary Berry very effectively these days.

On the upside, should you ever want some cheese gravy, I’m your woman :o)

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A public service announcement

You know that warning written in really small letters on the side of sugar free polos?

Yes, that one /\

It says ‘For some people especially children excessive consumption may produce laxative effects’.  Well, not only should it include a comma or two, but it should also specify what ‘excessive’ is.  Because when you are used to eating a bag of mint imperials a day but your dentist went white when you told her and said you had to kiss goodbye to all your teeth over the next few years or switch to sugar free, half a pack is not in any way excessive.   And true, it might not be having quite the effect warned about, but I am one step away and have been trumping like a trooper all afternoon.

Norman has forgiven me, but I am not sure I’ll get away with such noises in the office tomorrow.  So I’m not sure if this is a public service announcement to save you embarrassment should you be tempted to consume half a pack in a day or if it’s to warn people in my vicinity tomorrow that…well, ear plugs might be required :o)

(And to Himself:  I’m sorry!)

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Weekend observations

When you finally have a weekend day that’s not soggy or freezing and you’ve wanted to get in the garden since you’ve moved in, much can be accomplished in little time…to start with.

Removal of two trees?: 30 minutes each

Removal of tree stumps: 2 hours and one very large hole in it was decided that a stump can be quite a feature…

Removal of pampas grass (because we are not 1970’s swingers): 20 minutes

Removal of roots: 1 hour in  I woke up two hibernating toads and decided for their sake I’d leave the roots for another day.

But doing this:

Meant we got a sunny spot (which before was mostly dark) for a cup of tea and piece of freshly cooked cake:

There is still more to do, including stripping the garden of some…interesting ornaments.  Despite borrowing a huge estate car to take everything to the tip there was only room for one this time:

There are no words.  Especially as his brother, a peeing boy and three rabbits who have perfected the death stare are still making the most of out lighter, brighter, bigger garden.  Sometimes you just have to grit your teeth….and hope by next weekend you’re able to move without squeaking again so you can evict them too.  (I didn’t know I could ache this much…)  :o)

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The losing of the plot

I don’t know if it’s too much work, too much running, too much house-wife-ing (because not only am I now cooking proper food that doesn’t include toast, but last week I took the hem up on a pair of curtains.  Just call me a domestic Pogess), but I seem to have finally, completely and utterly lost the plot.

Last night Norman cat and I were doing a bit of tidying up waiting for Himself to get back.  I was chatting away to him while he sat behind me watching from a cardboard box I’d put to one side for recycling while I stuffed things in drawers when I heard:

‘Hello.  It’s me.’

I froze, squeaked and turned round to see Himself had walked in the house without making a sound.  Of course it was him who had spoken.  But for a few seconds there I really, truly, honestly thought Norman had learned to talk.

I think I need a lie down.  In the sun.  For about a fortnight….

And in other news, it snowed (a teeny tiny bit) in Beachbumpkinsville!  (I’m assured this is only marginally more likely than cats learning to talk…) :o)

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Sometimes…

Sometimes, even when it’s cold and wet you have to trust that going to the beach will still be fun, because you’re with Sister 1 and Little Pea:

Sister 1 fell down a hole as I took this picture…

…even if you did have a tummy ache and Mummy and Auntie Pog made you walk a lot anyway (although you could still eat sweets, so it probably wasn’t that bad):

And sometimes, even though it’s freezing cold and really, REALLY muddy, it’s worth meeting lovely friends in between Beachville and Bumpkinsville to go for a walk:

Especially when at some point everyone cries with laughter;

One person almost loses their boots in the mud;

Everyone loses their sense of direction (we had to get the Google map lady to talk us back when we realised how lost we were);

And at least three of the party almost lose their dignity through laughing far more than ladies who have had children should (apparently).

Giant gate or tiny friend?

Always though – not sometimes –  there is nothing better than a lot of belly laughing :o)

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Mostly about breaking stuff

Himself has been away for work this week.  Presumably I am now quite rubbish being left on my own now and have taken to breaking things.  This was last nights text messaging between us:

The snow reference is because it’s been snowing in New York so Norman decided to make snow at home, by removing tissues from their box and shredding them.

Today I have broken the back door.  Well, it wasn’t completely me and it isn’t entirely broken, but, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing He is coming home tomorrow.  Hooray!

I might just sit in my happy, calm place until he walks in the front door in case I accidentally demolish the house or something…. :o)

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