I really
should have taken a photo a month ago when the daffs were in full bloom all
over the back. (One flowering thing bloody Bambo won’t eat.) It looked
fabulous. Now it’s time to trim them all back.
One thing,
now that I’m looking properly, is growing (and growing) increasingly clear: the
weeds didn’t get (or perhaps did not read) the memo. This is a rock garden,
featuring heather and lavender. No other vegetation need apply.
Well, except
ferns. We like ferns. Wherever they wish to pop up they are very welcome.
As for the
rest, they’ve got to go. So I start weeding.
What, I hear
you ask, does the broom have to do with anything? It is actually playing quite
an important role. It is allowing me to sweep away the bloody pine needles
(which, moistened over winter and adhering together like mud, are encouraging
weeds to spring up apparently out of nowhere).
Two hours
later, much better. There’s still a considerable amount to do back here, but I
think it’s time to kick Stella off the zero gravity chair, make a cup of tea
and read the paper.
For now, job
done.
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