Today the bipedal residents of Chez Saintcrow go forth to slay dragons, pillage villages, and–
*is handed slip of paper*
–oh. Um. Okay. I mean, today is the day we go in search of supplies for the Glorious Fourth, including some gunpowder-related packets. There will be no huge booming issuing forth from our cannons this year. There’s no point, really, since there are several in the neighborhood who celebrate vaunted independence by blowing up a piece of said independent soil. Sparklers and smoke bombs are about it. Of far more importance are the fixings for dinner on that day–the children have requested franks, and cucumber salad, and bags and bags of crisps. My own humble need for a bottle of wine to take the edge off the artillery fusillade that will ensue once dusk falls a couple days from now is no less urgent.
Plus, I either need a bigger hatchet or a full-blown axe. A larger handsaw wouldn’t be amiss either. Nothing petrol-powered, although I’m sure I can hurt myself just as handily with an axe as I could with a chainsaw.
I’m talented like that.
This is my current hatchet–it has a knife hidden in the handle, too, which is no doubt an incredibly bad idea, but one I was unable to resist. (Look, when the zombies come, I WILL BE READY.) I do think something a touch bigger will be needed to get rid of the stumps from my recent brush-clearing–two diseased burning bush shrubs, a rhododendron similarly diseased, and a lovely Japanese maple seedling that would no doubt love to crawl under my foundation and crack things in half. The rhododendron flowered pink in spring, but that’s not the reason I took it out; it pained me to take the maple down.
Anyway, the burning bush shrubs had central stems easily 4-5in thick, and that’s just too much for my small hedge clippers. Hence my hungering for a larger handsaw, or hell, an axe. If I chop my own foot off it will no doubt be amusingly ironic.
As irritating as it will be to sally forth today when all I want to do is write (I am two chapters and the coda away from the end of the serial) I will console myself with the thought that at least I won’t have to leave the house tomorrow–or on the Fourth itself.
I’m also working on a SquirrelTerror story. I have to tell you guys about Bluto!Squirrel and how exactly Miss B got squirrel-shite all over herself…but that’s, say it with me, another blog post.