The garden is a mess. And it’s only going to get worse.
That’s the scary thing about springtime: things were already looking pretty scruffy in our garden at the fag-end of winter. As soon as the place gets a bit of heat it goes fucking nuts, green things taking over the place like some bad science fiction movie.
So yesterday I dug over the vege patch and put in the first row of spuds. I don’t know if they’ll be ready in time for Christmas – I’m three weeks later than last year.
Then today I started mowing the lawns with our old blunt push mower (not the easiest on steep slope) and decided to chuck that in and get a Flymo. One quick trip with Bella to Mitre 10 to get the mower followed by a second quick trip to Mitre 10 to get a extension cord and safety switch (duh!) and we were sorted. However, I discovered that it still takes a bit of effort to mow the lawns with a Flymo… it’s just it makes a better job than the push mower ever did. Which is a shame, because I don’t really give a shit how good it looks, I just it want cut fast.
Still to do is all the new gorse and blackberry that has sprouted in the lawn since autumn; a careful Old Man’s Beard inspection of the areas where the regional council inspectors pinged us for it last year; and the pulling of several kilometres of convolvulus from our so-called flowerbeds.
Honestly, who would bother having a garden?