an ax to grind

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My priority for the weekend was to mow the lawn so our neighbors don’t hate us. Well, more than they already do for running power tools 24-7 every weekend and not having window treatments. But Joe was still fixated on the rear flowerbed—and he was the guy holding the pickax.

After digging out the old roots, Joe, in typically anal fashion, measured and staked out the bed with sticks. It’s a kind of figure eight design, all his idea. We’re considering building a retaining wall around it, but that might have wait. Rocks are one of those things you don’t realize people actually pay money for until you’re standing in Home Depot going “$2 a stone? Are they made of gold?”

Anyway, we worked until dark just to clear the bed, which means not only is on lawn on its way to jungle status, but we didn’t plant any of our trees. And I still have four raspberry plants in my office closet.

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