doodle by andre: a hands-off policy


WE EACH HAVE BOUNDARIES, LINES WE DON’T WANT CROSSED. Apparently a certain garden tool depicted here sits right on one such line. Uh-oh. This isn’t the first hint of trouble: Not long ago she was digging herself into a pretty deep hole all alone (and this despite the fact that they already garden in separate beds). What will be the next chapter in Andre Jordan’s story of gardening on the rocks? Stay tuned.

  1. Susan says:

    Andre, she is giving you BOUNDARIES. That is not to bad. I would go and get your own garden fork and tie a big ribbon on it.

  2. Ailsa says:

    Oh oh is right.
    But separate tools is a good thing; yours can be cleaner.
    But you’ll know you’re really in trouble when she calls you the dog’s name by mistake. Mea culpa. ;c)

  3. andre says:

    ha, thanks Susan.

    Yesterday we got a lawnmower – which was really exciting until we realized just how much of the ‘public grass’ outside our house we had to maintain.

    In England the Local council does it for free (along with garbage pick up).

    I’m currently trying to convince my wife that what we need is a tiny sheep.

  4. andre says:

    oh a pygmy goat would be perfect. I shall look for one on Craigs List. And it can be a brilliant surprise for my when when she comes home from work today!

    but seriously, thanks for the ‘plant tons to avoid lawn care’ tip.

  5. Roxana says:

    It’s all so clear. Allow me to translate. A garden fork is an intimate thing. Anthropomorphically speaking, it’s nothing short of an extension of one’s hand. Grabbing another’s garden fork in the midst of unsettled business is akin to attempting to hold your spouse’s hand moments after running the family cat over in the driveway. It’s simply ill advised.

    Really, there is only one thing to do: Slip a sparkly little lovely on one of the fork’s tines just to let her know you’d do it all over again. (Marry her, that is ;)

  6. chigal says:

    A pygmy goat! That’s what I’d do, for all my so-called friends to see, a la Randy Newman’s “Uncle Bob’s Midnight Blues.”

    Well, that or moss roses.

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