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The Bang Bang Theories


Since it’s April in OH, when I haven’t been too bushed to do stuff, I’ve been working on my bushes.

For a girl (yes, ME, Reader – I’m a young, nubile girl – keep your “she’s an old lady” thoughts to yourself because a/ that’s wrong already because I’m not a lady and b/ remember to be NICE to me, I’m all you’ve got on this bloggy) … let’s continue.

For a girl who really despises yard work, I’ve been busy doing yard work for the past few weeks. I still have leaves to rake up from last fall! This yard, Reader. Let’s just say that it’s a lot to manage for a girl* (see above) who dislikes this part of her life.

Girl Trixie even has an awesome Yard Guy, and she paid for this luxury even when she couldn’t easily afford it, because as she stated, “I’d rather give up hair cuts, getting my nails done, and dining out if I can have someone else mow and trim the yard.” That’s a lot of sacrifices, and I happily made them. Of course, during Times of Corona, it’s wasn’t exactly a trick to stay home and avoid all things entertainment.

My Mister – also known as The Great Indoorsman – feels the same about yard word, which is no surprise to anyone who knows the G.I.

So we have a Yard Guy, yet there’s still a lot of yard to manage. There are two super long flower beds that are fuck-alotta work.

Now, what I’m about to tell you next is going to have you all kindza jealous over Trixie’s Glamorous Life. I spent Friday evening after work digging up bushes and replanting them in various parts of this super-rocky yard. And I wasn’t even drunk. It was a fully-considered decision.

What I’ve learned: Don’t dig up bushes on a slanted yard with a giant hill in close proximity wearing slip-on sneakers.

I almost – almost – dug in, slipped outta my shoe, fell backward and tumbled down that hill.

As I’ve told My Mister, should I fall the ravine behind our house while doing yard work, please put on my tombstone, “She died doing what she hated.”

This is my second close call. The other recent time I was affixing a bungee cord to a tree that’s drooped over, trying to sister it to a neighboring tree to get it to stand upright.

It’s a precarious life I lead over here at Chez Bang Bang, Reader. Don’t let the glitz and glamour throw you.  With great yards comes great responsibility.

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