He's getting there with the back garden. Especially compared to what it was like when we first moved in. And he's done a good job of filling in my holes, i haven't got the heart to tell him though that he's wasting his time, they will only appear again. I tried blaming it on the heavy rain saying it washed the soil away in places. But i don't think he bought that one, well you can't say i didn't try, and they do say god loves a trier and i can be very trying at times.
I think he's got his work cut out trying to cut this back but I'm sure we will get there.
Hard at work.
I wish my friends would walk by so i could say hello.
I can here noises next door, are they going to come out and say hello.
I think you've missed a bit. Do you like the nice pile of rubbish i made, I'm only joking i never cleared all the branches away, i could of if i wanted to. But if Dad thought i was that clever he would want me to make him a coffee as well and i wouldn't want to do Mum out of a job.
I feel better now after having a drink of water.
I'm not skiving or hiding. Honestly.
Anyone would think it was hard work.
Group hug for a job well done.
Dad's car aka my taxi.
I've got a funny feeling we're being watched.
Thanks to Mum for being the photographer for the day, or as she likes to be known creative director. She's having a laugh isn't she. Just because she's gave herself a fancy title doesn't mean to say I'm going to pay her anymore. It's like me calling myself an observation operative instead of a supervisor.