It is that time of year again, says Mummy, when one must turn
one’s thoughts to the Great Outdoors and things that must be done to get the
yard ready for spring viewing. Of course, we kits are the only ones who view it
(via the Great Indoors) but that is neither here nor there, as They say.
What is glaringly apparent, continues Mummy, is that our yard
looks perfectly rotten! Had I known this, of course, I would have taken a
stricter line with said Mummy, ensuring we kits were not embarrassed knowing the
neighbors might have seen our wayward acreage but still, there it is.
The reality? There is this whacking great patch of lawn full
of rolling hills and weeds (the likes of which should win Mummy some sort of
award for Most Unwanted Varieties in a Single Piece of Landscape or some such
thing). So Mummy has decided, at much risk to our capital investment
expenditures on fish, to install a Patio, teeming with flagstones and walls,
surrounded by deep beds begging for lush plantings which, says she, will make her
yard work simpler. I say it is most distressing to suddenly find the lawn
crawling with fellows who, unannounced, could have been burglars of any
variety. And to hear the ominous sounds of gargantuan Monsters chewing up the
turf is, frankly, a bit thick for this quiet-craving guy.
For my part, I have taken the occasional peek out the window,
keeping myself carefully hidden from view – I am, after all, in my skivvies –
while maintaining some measure of composure for documenting the facts. So far,
these fellows have dumped piles of rocks and dirt everywhere, pulled up
plantings and otherwise generally ruined what I always thought was a tidy but
of landscape. In other words, it [still] looks perfectly rotten.
I think Mummy’s plan is a bust.
How to break it to her, that
is the burning issue of the hour….
