You are probably wondering why I decided to take a day off from the blog yesterday? Well I'll tell you why. It was all the husband's fault, as on Saturday, he MADE ME DO GARDENING. We had planned a big family barbecue, and the plan was to eat outside, weather permitting. The thing was that the front and back gardens resembled Beirut on a quiet day, so armed with various instruments of torture, we set to it.
The husband had a load of top soil on the back of his trailer, and the idea was to scatter it across my borders, around the plants, and over the weeds, thus rendering them invisble. The husband calls this 'colouring in' and it works for me and my OCD very well. So once I had done all that the borders looked presentable. Empty, but yes, presentable.
The husband was in charge of the front. You'll remember that he removed our hedge some months ago, leaving an area of muddy scrub-land outside my front door. We had mulled over lots of different ideas as to what to do with this new space, but in the end decided to grass seed it and just have a bigger lawn. Armed with a rake, a roller and a box of grass seed, by 4.00 yesterday, he was all done. To be honest, it looked no different that it had looked in the morning, but I'm no Alan Titchmarsh so I kept my mouth shut.
It was then suggested that a couple of large pots might be in order to stop people driving over the corner of the lawn when they visit. This is the husband's pet hate, and his anger has reached such levels that he is now checking the tyre treads of all the neighbours' cars, and comparing them with the tracks on the lawn. So it was off to the garden centre for plants and pots. The man in the garden centre was the Voice of Doom. and warned me about planting out my bedding plants before the end of May. MAY? But my guests will be here in 24 hours. I joked with him, saying that if it looked like there was going to be a frost, I'd dig them up and bring them into the kitchen for a warm up. Amused, he was not, and as I wandered off with my purchases, he muttered something about it 'being on my own head'. You know me though, I live on the edge, and frost holds no terror for me...
So pots were done and strategically placed to deter the drive-by lawn terrorists, and we headed back indoors, very pleased with Saturday's work.
On Sunday, the husband disappeared in the morning, and was gone for a couple of hours. I heard him return and about an hour later, he came into the house and asked me to come outside. This was the verbal preamble to the hedge massacre, so you imagine my trepidation. Following him outside, he gestured to the patch of dirt between the road and the house. It was now green.
The husband had done his own version of colouring in, and had 'found' some turfs.
And after all that, you know what? It was bloody cold all day, and no one even looked at the garden. Hopefully, at some time in the not so distant future, I will appreciate all that we've done over the weekend, but right now, I don't know why we bothered.
By the way, today we have to dig the allotment over. I am writing this from the boot of my car, in a car park far,far away.
Hopefully, the husband won't find me...