D.O.P.-T.

[weofodthignen]

I gave the bush outside the dining room window a trim. The housemate stood by the ladder watching out for me leaning too far to either side, as I carefully reached with the long-handled loppers for the tall branches reaching above the canopy over the window, and in a few cases arcing down under it. I'd previously shaped the sides. The men who cut back the bushes so the house could be tented last summer didn't do the tops, but made a gap behind each bush and cut them back harshly underneath so they could get their trucks down the driveway, so I wanted to let the bush grow back a bit first where that tunnel effect had been, but it's not ideal to have no light at all through that window; however, bits of it were unreachable without a ladder, and I fell off the ladder the last time I used it. The bush is nice: it looks like a privet, but the flowers are like miniature white roses with fluffy insides. I hope I left enough buds.