Saturday, 7 March 2009
Today on the way to Longleat (sp?) I saw some mulch for sale. Me and Vicky once spent much of our free time sitting by the pool and saying 'mulch'. We'd create silences just so we could break them with 'mulch'. We'd lie in bed and not go to sleep, just to say 'mulch'. It was the funniest thing, the word mulch, that summer. We'd laugh every time we said it. It was how we said it, perhaps, and the pointlessness of both the word and mulch itself.