Today's wizard wheeze was inspired by the rare appearance of some sunshine. I decided to get out in the fresh air this afternoon to tackle the overgrown yet dead (how can the two things go together!?) morass that laughingly calls itself our garden.
I started simple - in the front yard where we only have a couple some low maintenance pots and a couple of plantable areas. Forty minutes, some grunting, bending and downright unattractive bum cleavage displaying later and I stood back to admire my handywork. A lovely colourful pot and fewer leaves - was that it? Seriously? For all that work.
*sigh*
The back 'garden' was a different story. A mess of deadwood, soggy lawn, borders strewn with weeds and cat pooh (a huge source of chagrin - see my post on cat chasing... grrr!), I definitely had my work cut out.
But I was determined to make the most of the first decent weather we'd seen in weeks, so off I set. Armed with my trusty secateurs (must remember to give them back to my Mum at some point...) I quite fancied myself pruning and preening my beloved dead things in a fashion not unbefitting of Edward Scissorhands... why is reality such a disappointment in such situations?
Bearing in mind my little garden is... well, just that, it's little. It is perhaps 4 metres by 4 metres, and at least one third of that area is taken up by paving stones - which doesn't leave much to work with.
So picture me, taming an aged honeysuckle and wrestling with a monster clematis (so attached to the neighbour's fence that I actually broke it whilst pruning... shhh, I propped it back up!). To help you imagine, I'd liken the scene to something between an all-American wrestling match, a snake charmer faced with 100 really angry pythons and two cats slap bang in the middle of a particularly viscious fight... Nice!
But just over three hours later I walked away with all my limbs, the sight in both eyes (a miracle in itself) a back that I know will refuse to play ball tomorrow and only a handful (or should that be two armfuls and half a face) of scratches and cuts. Oh, and let's not forget the a massive sense of achievement at my tidy (if now desolate) garden.
I'd forgotten just how therapeutic a good bit of
