Why I hate gardening...and a joke!

The Spring cleaning bug has hit me big time, Monday was spent blitzing my sitting room from top to bottom and I'm ashamed to admit to finding a couple of Easter eggs that the Easter bunny hid last year (in my defence they were very well hidden inside a pot on the top shelf. Yesterday was the turn of the garden. I took all the bottles to the bottle bank and cleaned the patio, then I turned my attention to my neighbour hedges. We have a wall all around our garden and both sets of neighbors have hedges which grow up and over our wall. The first neighbour has ivy which was obstructing my washing line, growing over my walls and shed and making my garden feel really small (it's small enough anyway so doesn't need to be made any smaller)! Eight and a half bags of ivy later and that side of the garden is looking respectable. My other neighbour is an older lady living on her own so I always cut down the bush that grows wildly up and over our wall. Bear in mind that I do all the cutting by hand with a small pair of secateurs and you will understand why I was not happy last night. I finished about a third of her hedge and I have blisters on my fingers and thumb and a very sore back. I'm sitting here looking at the hedge on this beautiful sunny morning knowing I have to go out and finish what I've started. There is also my first neighbours hedge out the front which is growing over our front garden and blocking out light. By the time I have finished I think I will have about 25 bags of garden waste to dispose of (which I will have to pay for). So to recap I will have spent two days cutting down hedges that do not belong to me, hurting myself in the process and then I have to pay to get rid of the copious amounts of garden waste, no wonder I'm not a happy bunny.

On a lighter note to fit in with Mum's theme of Witty Wednesday here's a joke for you.

To Be Frank:

A man walks into the street and the rain, and immediately manages to hail a cruising taxi just about to pass by. He tells the driver his destination, gets into the taxi and the cabbie says "Perfect timing, just like Frank".
The man says "Who?"
Cabbie : "Frank Feldman. He's a guy that did everything right - all the time. Like I was passing, just as you came out of that building there. Things like that always happened to Frank Feldman"
Passenger : "Well there must be some clouds in everyone's life, surely?"
Cabbie : "Not with Frank Feldman! He was a great athlete too. Could have won a tennis Grand Slam, played golf with the pros, anything. He sang like Sinatra, danced like a Broadway star, and you should have heard him play the piano. Sensational! What a guy, eh?"
Passenger : "Sounds like he was someone really special, then"
Cabbie : "There's more. He had a memory like a computer. He'd remember everyone's birthday or anniversary. He knew all about dining out, which wines to order, which cutlery to use, all that stuff. And he could fix anything, he was an expert electrician, carpenter, plumber and so on. Me,
I change a fuse and it knocks out all the lighting in the street. Not Frank Feldman, he got everything right".
Passenger : "Wow, some guy then!"
Cabbie : "And he always knew the quickest way to get from A to B, avoiding traffic jams, not like me. I always seem to get stuck in them".
Passenger : "Mmmm. There aren't many like him around".
Cabbie : "And he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back, even when she was wrong. He was always immaculately dressed, too. Shoes always polished, clothes always exactly right for the occasion - he was just the perfect gentleman. Never made a mistake. Nobody could ever measure up to Frank Feldman".
Passenger : "An amazing fellow! How did you meet him?"
Cabbie : "Well, I never actually met Frank"
Passenger : "Well, how do you know so much about him, then?"
Cabbie : "Because I married his widow, that's how".