The weekend was spent in the sun. Saturday at the beach on a lake, getting burnt to a crisp. Sunday at the air show at Moffett feild. Monday in the garden, killing.
We killed the Lavender, we killed the grass. We killed the small furry mammals that frollicked in the greenery of our horticultural experiment.
First, V held the little buggers attention by waving a large sponge soaked in boula base. As the fuzzy little buggers ran to meet her, I leapt upon them with a steaming hot iron.
After a few minutes of pressing these guys into a stiffened cardboard-like state, V walked to the other end of the yard, then charged towards them and slammed her foot into the anus of each.
And now, we both have neatly pressed slippers.