This is what my garden looked like this time last year.The Urban Meadow.
I wasn't going to let it happen this year. I went out there armed with shears, secateurs, trowel, spade, cannabis tin and huge mug of tea.
I had to come in for a few hours because it was so scorching hot.
Is there anything quite like the ‘Oh Shit’ moment you have when you manage to pull or dig up something that has bulbs at the root?
And the immediate, panicked, effort to stuff them back into the ground before they notice.
I go by the general rule, that if it has bulbs it must be flowers not weeds.
I do it every year and every year I make a mental note to remember they are there.
For all the fucking good it does me!
I’m also considering renaming the garden “Connaught”.
Fields of fucking Stones.
At some point in the past the Anderson Shelter has been pulled down and broken up.
The debris is about 6 inches below the surface of the ‘soil’.
When I hit half a brick or a grapefruit sized bit of concrete with the spade, I’m not fucking happy.
It jars my back.
It's the same pissed off-ness I get when old dears say,
“Oooh!, You can’t beat the old workman. Did a proper job back then”.
I look at my house, that hasn’t got a single straight line or right angle, and think,
Beat them?
They need fucking battering with a Spirit Level.
Bastards.
Sodding Romans managed it with a lump of lead on a string!
If they’d done a proper job I would have a back like a tuning fork every third spade full.
The BBC2 programme, ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green’, has introduced me to the most hideous thing on earth.
The menstrual cup or 'Moon Cup' as it was euphemistically called.
A plastic, funnel like contraption that is worn ‘internally’..
I’m explaining no more.
It was horrible.
Made worse when the lady said it could be, “Popped in the dishwasher”..
I felt as sick as a plane to Lourdes.
I’d rather use Sphagnum Moss and risk an Aphid infestation, you fucking dirty bitch!
This is what it looked like by the time I had finished this afternoon!
The wood has been added to keep 'Hissing Helmut' away from my Rhubarb and Herbs.
To great effect, if you look closely between the Bay Tree and the composter!
3 comments:
Much better. Its usually a shame what a bit of weed can do to the garden. Not in this case.
While ploughing the fields, I scattered.
You remember that big bag of seeds?
Something may come of it.
Trill used to 'sprout' sometimes!
Ah...Sphagnum Moss, the Boss Moss. I do my spiel on it at least twice a day, although I only reveal the First Nations use for sanitary towels when I feel they won't all faint. (They get a bit scared when I talk about nappies, - diapers to them - they're not really appreciative of the antiseptic properties of the Boss Moss, but they all laugh when I say the word 'pants', and bear in mind it doesn't even mean the same thing here. ) Still, they get to jump up and down and make the blueberry bushes move and that takes away the unpleasant memories.
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