I was not a fan of this bush. It blocks the light. It has big dead leaves all the time. Recently MQD and I discussed the fact that he isn’t really a fan of this bush, either.
I am also not much of a fan of sitting around on my ass. Unfortunately (for this bush) I woke up this morning not much of a fan of doing laundry or emptying the dishwasher or going to the gym.
So, I started hacking at the bush with a bolt cutter (like you do.) I gave it an all over inspection and made peace with the fact that my ordinarily green self was most definitely going to kill this bush. Sorry, little birds from last spring, but you will not be moving back into that old nest. I saved that branch with last year’s bird nest for last and captured the Horton Hears a Who-ness of the moment.
The hacking at the branches was a good time. It was satisfying. Quick actions and immediate results. And then I started to dig. And dig. And dig. My tiny helper grew weary and began to ask “You can’t do it, Mom? You can’t do it?”
Oh. I can. And I will. But it was not a particularly good time.
I dragged the zillion pound root ball to the end of the driveway. Lucy asked “All done? Nap time?”
Nope. I explained that the fun part was over and now we had to clean up.
So. That’s what we did today.
I skipped the gym. But I got good and sweaty.
I suppose I will go back to the gym tomorrow. I can’t just keep digging up my yard. Right?