DoR

This morning David and I dug out the fish pond liner and backfilled the figure-8-sized hole with rubble and dirt. I have a photo somewhere of the bloody thing, pre-removal, but I’m not able to find it ATM. The pond was in the wrong place and was unattractive. I’m hoping its removal accelerates the effort to replace our eyesore of a back garden with a cottage gardeny kind of space.
Then I scrubbed the kitchen floor, then I got on a ladder to trim the constantly growing wisteria vine. I put the A-shaped ladder up on four chairs to reach the higher vines. All the time thinking of Facebook slideshows on “Why men have shorter lifespans”--photos often involving men on precarious ladders.
After this early burst of activity, I spent most of the day reading a few issues of the Irish Times. A long overdue day of rest.
In the evening we watched France win the World Cup. We caught bits of Wimbledon, but not a lot.
It really was a gloriously unproductive day.
7-15