I have a shrubbery

Today, I tackled trimming the hedge. Which was a much, much bigger project than I realized when I got stuck in, because Snowmageddon managed to patchily kill about half of the hedge, and there was no way to save the rest and have it look good. I tried.

The hedge was overgrown anyway, but I hadn't dealt with chopping it back because that was too much work for too little reward. Well, now it was time and past time, so it got severely pruned down to within the boundaries of the flowerbed and all the dead bits removed.

Calmer Half was somewhat aghast at the radical chopping of the hedge; he was not a fan of removing all the concealment of the front of the house. "Why didn't you just leave the dead bush up until new bush grew to replace it?"

"Because I don't want our house to be an eyesore."

He looked puzzled. "It's not an eyesore. There was a bush there. Now there's not, and that's a privacy matter."

I shook my head. "Honey, that's not how this works. Bushes have to be living or they're an eyesore." The long-winded explanation about needing to remove dead material in order to get proper growth would be wasted here.

He looked resigned, and accepting if unhappy. "You would know. You're the go-to on growing things. I most definitely am not."

I grinned. "Yes, I know. I love you, but your concept of caring for a bush begins and ends with 'Triple tap it left center right, aiming low, in case a terrorist is hiding behind it!'"

Calmer Half perked up."It does! And it works, too!"