Spidermansion

“How am I supposed to get anything done when you choose to stretch your home across my path, Mr. Webb?”

Oh, I can call you Spiderman?

“Okay Spiderman. You created a high-rise condo between the rows of basil and lemongrass. There was I, busy doing some weeding, and bumped into you, sunning your golden body on your top porch.”

But….(in horror) listen to you! I am to go around? Go to the end of rows so long that they reach the moon, and then walk back on the next side?

“Well, since you own this place, your logic prevails. I be walkin’.”

Me, walking.

I. Trudie Palmer One Love