Hanging around...

The evil whirligig has gone from the garden! O frabjous day!

There was potentially a great Cornwall battle in our very near future. A battle of wits, of senses - common and others to boot.

Bry would say "it might be ugly but it's practical" and I would narrow my eyes and say "but I hate it". And he would shake his head and reply "but what's the point of getting rid of it when it's there already?" And I would smile wryly and say "but I want lines of washing flapping in the breeze". And he would roll his eyes and say "besides, it's cemented into the ground" to which I would nod sadly but then joyfully declare "where there's a will there's a way".

Thankfully, the battle is saved for another day (wait till he hears what I want to do to one of the drive way bits) - as the area that the evil whirligig sits is the only bit of the garden that swings could possibly be set up on and guess what the kids got for their birthdays?

Swings. Exactly! Give yourself a wee cheek chook for being so clever.

Now I get my lines of washing (currently hanging between the apple trees), the kids will get hours of fun falling off swings and Bry will get the pleasure of realising once more that when I have a vision for something, attempts to sway me are FUTILE!

Futile.