The wrath of Jehovah

I am not religious. Seriously. Ask anyone. Check my x-rays. You won’t find a religious bone in my body.

So, imagine my surprise today down in the garden when I realised there was a God. A proper, Old Testament, vengeful, pissed-off-with-humanity God. There must be, because nothing less than the wrath of Jehovah could explain the invention and sale of plastic netting.

At one point, as I struggled with a roll of it this morning, I genuinely thought I was going to lose my mind. I confess that after the first hour of cursing, I did consider ringing Cec for advice. I figured there must be something obvious I was missing. (This before I recognised plastic netting as Jehovah's vengeance.) But then I remembered I am a strong, independent woman who can figure things out and get shit done. So I persevered.

Six hours later (yes, six hours), my thenar (look it up – I had to) is aching from the staple gun,  I’ve run out of netting, but the three large frames have netting attached.  If you look too closely, it ain’t pretty, but from a distance they looks fine(ish) and should get the job done.