From blogger to slogger

My little potter in the garden turned out to be more of a slog. I have advanced from blogger to slogger!

What started out as a minor remodelling of a flowerbed turned into a landscaping exercise of major proportions. He Who Can Fix Anything temporarily abandoned his removal of the engine from the car to ensure that I did a proper job, as always. I can be sure that whatever small job I attempt, he will turn it into at least 3 hours' work, involving hard labour and broken nails. This time I got wise to that, and immediately got the nail clippers out to do a quick manicure rather than end up with a snap-off. Then it was on with the gardening gloves and pulling out the old plants that had got straggly and moth-eaten and were nothing more than a trap for dead leaves blowing in the wind.

HWCFA then proceeded to dig all of the soil out of the flower bed, which is just a narrow strip of soil along a wall, bordered by brick paving. I had intended to remove the bricks along the edge but discovered, after 30 years (doesn't time fly!) that they were actually cemented in place and it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. The soil only went down a foot before turning into concrete. At least we know we have a foundation. Then we sieved the entire pile of soil, discarding years of broken mussel shells, odd stones and ancient roots. The pile of pure soil left behind was a joy to behold and he decided he would paint the wall before we filled it in again. I took the opportunity to take the gap and leapt into the car under the pretext of needing to get fertilizer and punnets of annuals at the nursery, and left him to it!

It took five minutes to get the plants and I then spent a leisurely half hour enjoying a cappuccino and chat up at the local coffee shop. Once I had given the paint long enough to dry, it was back home to continue the job. Twelve pretty little dianthus are now adorning the revamped flowerbed and I have to say it was well worth all the effort. It has certainly transformed that area of the garden.

Once that was done and the customary braai was had for lunch, I headed for the front garden, where I proceeded to pull out most of a huge tangle of vygie (don't know English name!) that had expanded over the years and looked rather tired, together with a massive arctotis which had borne 1 flower over the last 25 years. I only kept it for its attractive grey foliage, but I have decided to turn the front garden into an indigenous paradise for birds, to match all the other frontages in our road. I have a long way to go to catch up with the impressive array of aloes, proteas, vygies and other specimens of our magnificent fynbos, but you can be sure that nothing that I plant will have a bulb attached to it, as it will go the way of every other bulb I have ever planted, down the throat of the porcupine.

After the day's slog, I was feeling somewhat crocked, to the extent that I actually decided to have a hot bath! I picked some branches of rosemary and lavender and crushed them under the hot tap, throwing them into the bath after that, and lay in my own herb-scented water, which I am sure did me a lot of good.

At least I know I won't have fleas and my hair will be shiny!