Bunnings – it’s all about the sausages, really

Last year Kitt and I took yet another step down the dark path of domesticity: we started going to Bunnings, the hardware/home improvement/garden/DIY/whatever place that has warehouse sized stores all around the country. It all began when we moved into a house that had a garden so we went there & picked up some gardening gear.

Then we figured it would be better to mow the lawns ourselves so back we went for a lawn mower. Of course any house has some maintenance required, even if you’re renting, so soon enough it was back for a few tools. Then Kitt decided to rennovate a table so it was multiple trips to buy a couple of sanders (be aware that the idea of power tools in my hands is a terrifying thing), more trips for sand paper and then brushes & stains.

Like an addict starting from “just a small taste”, our first little step had become a slippery slope and now we’re going there about once a month for plants, pots, pH kits (the new place has a fish pond), CAT5 networking cable, lighting, pegs, wood & nails for Nykolai’s latest school project (don’t ask :) and even seeds on a recent trip. Fortunately we’re not as bad as those who cannot leave Bunnings without spending lots more than they anticipated and mostly we leave with only the items we had intended to buy. Mostly.

Maybe it’s ‘cos the main thing I find of interest at a Bunnings Warehouse is the sausage sizzle going on outside the front doors every Saturday & Sunday. There’s always a school, sporting or charity group there running a BBQ cooking up sausages & onions to have in a slice of bread. For a few bucks you can get a quick bite, a drink and get a happy glow from the thought of helping a (hopefully :) good cause.

It certainly means that a mid-week visit to Bunnings just isn’t the same and, in fact, is something to be avoided. What’s the point of exposing yourself to terrors of a home improvements, handy man, DIY, gardening super store if you’re not even able to get a bit of BBQ?

Hmmm – I wonder if we’d ever go to IKEA if they had cheap BBQ food available out front? Nope – doubt it. Nothing can make going to IKEA bearable…

Screw this “Gardening is Relaxing” Shit…

I knew we’d become domestic when we went to Bunnings for the express purpose of buying a lawn mower & some gardening gear (spade, trowel, fork, rake, etc). Despite flashbacks to my initiation into the psychedelic world of Sydney’s 1992 dance party scene and hazy recollections of nootropics, virtual reality rigs and funky/chunky graphics, the closest I got to the Lawnmower Man was that I was this guy pushing a lawnmower around the back yard.

Oh well, at least I had a stack of aviation podcasts to listen to under my tarmac worker quality hearing protection.

I’ve been willing to put up with the boring hassle of mowing the lawns, even when the spring & autumn seasons meant rain and grass growing at a rate you could watch all day without having to pretend you saw movement. Sadly, however, today took me over the edge. I’ve spent today mowing lawn, ripping out crap from flowerbeds & driveway edges and otherwise trying to make the space look acceptable. What makes it worse is that we’re moving out of here next week and all this is just to ensure that the place doesn’t look too run down/dilapidated when the contractors come through to renovate the place.

After a day of mowing, bending, ripping, carrying & dealing with pissed off insects & arachnida, I think the next gardening tool I buy will be a flame thrower. Screw this “beautiful looking garden” shit – it’s either paved or the place comes with a gardener who gets paid to make it look good while I get my weekends back.