We survived Friday the 13th

Or so it would appear. However, upon going out to look at the parking strip, which I am trying to turn into a lovely planted area, I took a look at the two buddlea bushes I put in last year, and decided to remove them, since they are considered an invasive species out here. When one considers that they grew to be over six feet tall in one season or so, in pretty lousy soil, one must wonder at their nature... evil, I suspect. When I had stripped them of their branches - no bloody sap oozed, nor weird howling ensued - I had a battle with the rest of them. Upon removal, the roots looked like ancient, gnarled war clubs from the Andaman Islands, and I quickly threw them into the yard waste bin before they animated themselves and started swinging at my head. Our two cats and a couple of felines visiting from neighbors sat or lay around, switching their tails and observing my toils.
Next, I went up into the little front "Sphinx Garden," as it has been known; it is so badly neglected and overgrown that it's a wonder the Sphinx hasn't taken wing to find another home, or come up to pound against my bedroom window, shrieking for relief from the tickling tendrils of morning glory and rampant perennial geraniums choking her abode. I madly wrenched wads of weeds, including some ivy that was working its way out the branches of a spreading blue spruce. Half an hour of this dervish business, and my arms were sore, my lungs full of ivy pollen. And the yard waste bin was overflowing, so it was surely a sign to stop. I have, I confess, "let things go" a bit, but it's been a wet spring, and I would far rather go running or climbing than muck about in the chilly drizzle. No excuse, now, so I'll keep whittling away at the vegetal drifts...
Off to read more of Winter's Tale. This book annoys me, it strikes me as a mixture of fairly imaginative attempts, mixed with cliche.