Kill the triffids

Too many long, hot weekend afternoons wasted on mowing brown lawns and incessant weeding as a teenager means I haven't done any gardening since I left home. I always just lived in apartments, or paid someone else to come in and mow the lawn every couple of weeks, because life is too short to be getting dirty in the garden

But the back yard in our current place was getting seriously overgrown, especially with these really annoying thin vine things, and even though it wasn't a big garden, it was getting well out of control. So I started hacking away at it a little bit, making a bit of space, and then I started hacking a lot, and I've ripped into it for weeks now.

It turned out to be exceptionally therapeutic, you put on a podcast and get stuck into it, and get your hands dirty. The kid likes sitting in the garden and getting her own tiny hands filthy, and it doesn't matter if she tears up a bit of the lawn. It's all got to be scorched.

It helps that some of the plants look like triffids, because that book and TV show scared the fucking shit out of me as a kid and I deadset thought they were a real thing. I'm gonna tear into those fuckers with glee and I know they're not triffids, but I'm still going to wear some thick gloves. I just base my gardening style on the philosophy of Judge Joe Dredd: Get you retaliation in first.