I've got those front-garden blues, sho'nuff. I chopped off a lot of wisteria, disturbing Mrs Blackbird by accident (her nest was well-hidden). Then I chopped up a hedge-type plant I once knew the name of. I now have a huge pile of choppings (and no-where to put them), and a bald, sticky thing bereft of leaves, sticking up out of the ground, frowning at me for exposing its under-branches for all and sundry to see.
I have no transport except my bicycle, so I can't drive the choppings to the dump, and the compost bin is full-to-bursting, having consumed more than was good for it last weekend, greedy thing. The choppings will reside in black bags in the front, making our house ever-more Clampett-like, till I can conceive a plan. The wisteria looks better though.