About 4 weeks ago I started an already overdue blog post with this:
'Good Lord, it's amazing how working away, painting and decorating and half term visitors slow down your blogging !
'Good Lord, it's amazing how working away, painting and decorating and half term visitors slow down your blogging !
They don't however slow down the growth in the garden which is reaching fever pitch and rapidly descending to jungle chaos as usual.'
This post was intended to continue and tell you how my garden was still going to remain neglected as I had agreed to help my lovely neighbour sort out her garden. We have an American family next door who have come over on secondment to the Navy, but now he has been posted away leaving his wife and 2 small children to cope with - well everything!
Little did I know quite how long it would be until I finished this post.
Anyway off I toddled next door with my kit and was slightly daunted by the job ahead...
but at the same time inspired by some of the beautiful shrubs and plants buried in the garden...
However 2 hours in and only a very small dent into the work disaster struck!!
I've found it hard not to be slightly scornful of garden related accidents unless they are ladder or power tool related, and tripping over in the garden one would think would be a cause of embarrassment rather than anything else. However tripping over a stump and using your face to break your fall on a concrete path has cured me of my scorn.
Please don't ask me how it happened, what my hands were doing, or why amongst all that softish greenery I chose the bit of concrete to land on because I am as baffled as everyone else. Anyway I rendered myself into a bloody heap that had to be scooped up by my knight in shining armour husband, helped home and patched up.
There was then a week of hibernation as the terrifying small children effect was quite depressing, I felt a hundred years old and very decrepit. Not only was my face scraped, bashed and cut but it then moved on to the bruised, swollen and discoloured phase as well. I discovered that not only can you get black eyes but a black chin too! It looked like I had grown a goatee beard!
I was an absolute gorgon!!
Be grateful that there are no photos, kind reader, and also be assured that I am now fully recovered. Apart from some small patches of light scarring that will go with time and a slightly tender nose I am back to normal (although still waiting for replacement glasses grumble, stupid varifocals, grumble, grumble).
I have been back to the garden and started work again with my son acting as a labourer for the heavy digging. Needless to say he takes every opportunity to make me feel a fool - he was unimpressed by the stump, tried various types of re-enactment (he obviously has the reflexes of a cat so is in no danger of any injury) and keeps asking me how on earth I possibly managed it.
Suddenly doing my own digging is becoming more appealing!!!
And my garden is even more of a jungle than ever before and now totally out of control.
I have moments of rising panic, but then I think at least my reflection is not still cracking mirrors and I vaguely recognise myself again!
Time for a cup of tea I think, and a google search for gardening helmets!
To end here are some sunny pictures of next doors garden, just to lighten the mood!
Tra la laa! xxx
This post was intended to continue and tell you how my garden was still going to remain neglected as I had agreed to help my lovely neighbour sort out her garden. We have an American family next door who have come over on secondment to the Navy, but now he has been posted away leaving his wife and 2 small children to cope with - well everything!
Little did I know quite how long it would be until I finished this post.
Anyway off I toddled next door with my kit and was slightly daunted by the job ahead...
but at the same time inspired by some of the beautiful shrubs and plants buried in the garden...
However 2 hours in and only a very small dent into the work disaster struck!!
I've found it hard not to be slightly scornful of garden related accidents unless they are ladder or power tool related, and tripping over in the garden one would think would be a cause of embarrassment rather than anything else. However tripping over a stump and using your face to break your fall on a concrete path has cured me of my scorn.
Please don't ask me how it happened, what my hands were doing, or why amongst all that softish greenery I chose the bit of concrete to land on because I am as baffled as everyone else. Anyway I rendered myself into a bloody heap that had to be scooped up by my knight in shining armour husband, helped home and patched up.
There was then a week of hibernation as the terrifying small children effect was quite depressing, I felt a hundred years old and very decrepit. Not only was my face scraped, bashed and cut but it then moved on to the bruised, swollen and discoloured phase as well. I discovered that not only can you get black eyes but a black chin too! It looked like I had grown a goatee beard!
I was an absolute gorgon!!
Be grateful that there are no photos, kind reader, and also be assured that I am now fully recovered. Apart from some small patches of light scarring that will go with time and a slightly tender nose I am back to normal (although still waiting for replacement glasses grumble, stupid varifocals, grumble, grumble).
I have been back to the garden and started work again with my son acting as a labourer for the heavy digging. Needless to say he takes every opportunity to make me feel a fool - he was unimpressed by the stump, tried various types of re-enactment (he obviously has the reflexes of a cat so is in no danger of any injury) and keeps asking me how on earth I possibly managed it.
Suddenly doing my own digging is becoming more appealing!!!
And my garden is even more of a jungle than ever before and now totally out of control.
I have moments of rising panic, but then I think at least my reflection is not still cracking mirrors and I vaguely recognise myself again!
Time for a cup of tea I think, and a google search for gardening helmets!
To end here are some sunny pictures of next doors garden, just to lighten the mood!
Tra la laa! xxx
As someone currently nursing poorly ribs I can tell you, gardening is dangerous! I I feel your pain. Every bit of it. Be careful out there.
ReplyDeleteThank you, hope the ribs are getting better too! x
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