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Monday, April 05, 2004

The next step in our twenty-seven year renovation plan, is our garden. Talking about the garden may give the impression that the house renovation is finished and it’s time to move on. Ha! That is far from the truth, the reality is that we are just sick of the house. And of course I now am telling myself that our windows look good in the pink undercoat colour – who really needs painted windows anyway?

So, we have been discussing plants and garden type things for some time now, and in an effort to actually put names to plants, we went to the Garden and Flower show on the weekend. This is so we can actually talk about the garden without saying things like: “Under that tall funny looking tree, lets put in some of that stuff that has those flowers with leaves that look kinda light green and grows about so high, do you think that grows in shade?”

So there were many pretty flowers, and many more hundred million thousand people, and I snapped away with my spunky little digital camera and we now have hundreds of ideas about what we like and want to do. We still don’t know what anything is called, but now at least we might have a photo of a plant that may aid in it’s identification. And quite a few photos of old people that kept wandering into shot – not yet sure if we will integrate a few of them into our garden design as well. Could look good having an old lady in a rocking chair in the corner of the garden.

For our wedding anniversary we spent Saturday night at the Westin, which was great fun. We got to pretend we were rich and famous for just a moment. That moment was spoiled a little by the Bulldogs v Collingwood match – our two AFL teams. I was trying not to gloat at half time, as there was a foot massage* resting on the outcome of the match, and just as well because we went down in the end. And yeah – he might still be waiting for that massage after he couldn’t contain himself and did a little victory dance when his team won. Talk about rubbing it in.

I solved the dilemma of the leather wedding present for Mr R, as we went shopping yesterday and bought each other new shoes. Practical, and Mr R argues that it is also romantic, as he will think about me when he wears the shoes. I am not so sure about the romance bit; I think he will relish being able to stomp on me as he walks around.



* Ah, the feet/foot plural conundrum. When it comes to talking about a massage of the feet, “foot massage” sounds better than “feet massage” and yet it does imply that only one foot will be getting massaged. So if Mr R ever does get a massage out of this bet, you can bet that I’ll be exploiting this and there will only be one foot being massaged..


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