Boy, that blog title could go in a couple of different directions, couldn't it?
Heh.
Well, guys, we didn’t blow the bees up this weekend, although we DID pour about 5 gallons of gasoline in down the hole last night and I swear to god, if they’re still alive after getting a petroleum-based monsoon I will fucking MOVE TO DELAWARE because they are obviously zombie bees bent on destroying the earth as we know it. Yes, just like my zombie Lymes Disease. My world is filled with zombies - isn't yours?
So instead of pyrotechnics, this weekend was full of backbreaking manual labor, kind of like a Soviet gulag but with more snack breaks (and bees, obviously). But the whole “moving tons of rock using only manpower and a waning desire to live?” Oh yeah, we definitely had that going on.
It was concentration camp-tastic.
To update you newbies (of which there are several, and HELLO! Welcome to my nightmare!), we’ve been working on the backyard every weekend for the past two months now in preparation for the impending “wedding” (and I use quotation marks because that is exactly what the “wedding” has become to me. A thing. Not a special day, or a reason for celebration; a thing that all other things must be finished before. In case you’re wondering? Yes it sucks, and yes, I’m probably going to lose my shit somewhere in the next 12 days. Prepare yourselves; it won’t be pretty. WOW this is a long statement to be housed in parentheses. Should I have made it into its own paragraph? I dunno. Is it lunchtime yet? What was I talking about?).
So this weekend was the culmination of 2 months worth of digging and raking and weeding and replanting and moving rocks from Pile A to Pile B. All the while running from zombie ground bees with an inflated sense of entitlement and indistinct property borders. Oh, and spending money.
Can’t forget that part.
On Saturday, we dug, hauled, and repositioned 1.5 tons of 3/8-inch river rock and 5 yards of root mulch (which doesn’t seem like a lot, until you realize that 5 yards of mulch takes up the same space as a California king bed). And yes, the yard looks spectacular, but mostly? I’m just glad that the big projects are finished, and I can now start working on the 39547205429456103 other little projects that need to be finished by next Saturday.
[Begin freak-out mode in 3…2…1…]
So I’m going to be straight with you guys, because we have nothing if not an honest relationship, right? Right.
The posts this week and next are kind of going to suck.
And by kind of, I mean without a fucking doubt.
Yep
Big time suckage.
Suckus Maximus.
Because at this point it’s really all I can do to show up at work every day while knowing that I have more important things to do, like make name-tags for wine glasses and clean the bathroom. My mind is elsewhere. It’s everywhere, and it’s nowhere, and it’s definitely in no condition to suck the humor out of life and regurgitate it back onto this blog.
But don’t worry – if we DO end up blowing up the zombie bees (and perhaps the entire backyard)?
I’ll post pics.
Trust.
6 comments:
Ground Bees. Here is what you do (and what the Warden did):
Get a shopvac.
Plug it in.
Stick it in the hole.
Turn it on.
Do not move it for hours upon hours.
When you do take it out, plug the hose with something (a sock works nicely).
The shopvac will suck the little bastards up. And then do not open the shopvac for a while. They will die.
Trust me, it works.
Good Luck with your "Thing". Hope all comes together for you.
That's the problem with weddings and why I'm in no rush to do it again! But it will be worth it all when you look around on your wedding day and realize it's the best day of your life. Promise.
So does Google still have you in that black hole? Cause I need a 50th follower. That's real. I have a special post lined up, your name will be mentioned, and I will personally come urinate in your bee hole.
Wow. I don't even know if that's right.
Also, I may or may not be falling in love with Liz just because of her knowledge of sucking off bees.
So the other night, I had a dream that I was attacked by about 345 bees who ALL stung me. And it was so vivid, I actually felt the stings!!!
I spent the next two days wondering why I'd a) dreamt of bees and b) what it meant. Then I read this post. And remembered you'd written about bees earlier and I had commented.
AND it all makes sense.
Phew! :)
After all is said and done, you will be glad at how it turned out, i'm sure it's worth it too.
Shouldn't those sucker bees start dying by now that it's getting a little cold?
When I read the title of your post I was like, lucky boyfriend of yours...
Well he still is though.
Post a Comment