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Weeds, weeds, rabbits and weeds


It's that time of year when a time-poor gardener wishes that the plants would grow at least half as fast as the grass and the weeds. And Bertie Baggins wonders what a bucket is doing in a wheel-barrow ... two reasons - one is to avoid dangling chains of poo strung together with indigestible lengths of weed that perplex a pup who can't quite reach to tug them out and the other is that the weeder handle has been chewed enough times already.




Four-legged-friend meanwhile decides to be helpful and starts pulling out the daffodil leaves ... which isn't actually helpful because they had been left to go brown because we want the daffodils to flower again next year. But Four-legged-friend is not aware of the need for photosynthesis and putting strength back into the bulb and it's a good game and he's only copying what I'm doing. Nobody told him that daffodils aren't weeds. Or that what he is pulling at is a daffodil. Or what a weed is.




While Four-legged-friend attempts his version of garden destruction, I reflect that all the gardeners I know have complained about the weather this winter-past and the devastation it has wreaked on their gardens. The frosts were a step too far for the hedge that once enclosed an end of the vegetable patch and has been suffering from rosemary bush die-back - tomorrow it will have to go ... whether 'tomorrow' is tomorrow or another day's tomorrow depends on how the Geography GCSE revision goes - exam on Tuesday, daughter needing help. Tomorrow.




Sadly there is more death and decay and general demonstration of my brand of garden-after-all-the-other-jobs-have-been-done gardening -

deceased honeysuckle RIP (Replace It Pronto ... but probably not very 'pronto') 




we've-been-sitting-here-all-week tomatoes and geraniums and might die of thirst soon





just-how-big-do-you-want-me-to-grow-before-you-notice-and-chop-me-down rhubarb flowers





the strawberry patch that once upon a time was a strawberry patch before the rabbits found it and decided that strawberry plants are good for breakfast




and the return of my these scaly little critters on the grape-vine ... which are apparently a sign of neglect - oops!




'Tomorrow' could be busy!

After an exhausting day of lying in the sun - guarding the wheel barrow and watching me achieving much less than I had planned in the garden while constructing a to-do list in my head that is so long that things will be forgotten ... which will have the advantage of making the list more manageable, but will then be remembered and have to be done at a later tomorrow -




Four-legged-friend and Bertie Baggins curled up together - in the big crate; the only crate that still has a bit of carpet ...





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