Monday, 12 March 2012

Gardeners learn by trowel and error..

Spring has sprung and suddenly I want to spend all my time in the garden.  However, following a recent op I’m not yet able to lift our steamroller of a lawnmower.  So I asked Mr V to do the lawn.  I was a bit twitchy about this request.  The garden is my domain after all.  I don’t have OCD for nothing and prefer my blades of grass to point upwards, and the finished lawn to have that manicured criss-cross chessboard finish.  Mr V assured me it wasn’t a problem, so I left him to it and set about digging over a flowerbed and planting 180 mixed bulbs.

One hour later I’d finished planting.  Mr V had long since disappeared.  He’d put the lawnmower away but left an extension lead out.  It resembled a ball of tangled wool.

            ‘What happened to the extension lead?’ I asked incredulously.
            ‘I haven’t the faintest idea,’ Mr V scratched his head.  ‘It somehow got all knotted up.’

Such is the way with Mr V.  He does one job and makes another.  Fifteen minutes later I’d sorted out the extension lead and put it away in the garage.  And that was when I discovered all the bags of grass cuttings dumped on my little ornamental wheelbarrow.  I lifted the heavy bags off to find the wheelbarrow – awaiting a tray of seedlings to bloom – quite broken.

My husband runs a company, is logical about money, wise about teenage tantrums and rarely loses his temper.  It never fails to amaze me how some people can be so good at certain things, and...well...not so good at other things.  I’m not the cleverest of people, but like to think I’m practical – that what I lack in brain power I make up for in common sense.  I tried not to let irritation get the better of me, took a deep breath, told myself the extension lead was now useable again and possibly the wheelbarrow could be repaired.  At least it wasn’t like the time when Mr V had taken a video tape from my bedside drawer and used it to record a football match.  And erased every single filmed memory of the children growing up.  Feeling a bit more soothed, I walked past the lawn and stared in amazement.  Yes, quite moth eaten.

I decided to go in and make a cup of tea.  The door to the kitchen had been left open as it was such a beautiful day.  I stepped into the kitchen and encountered my dog, an awful lot of mud and several flower bulbs.  Turning on my heel I went back to the flowerbed I’d not long since finished working on.  Yes, completely dug over by my pooch with bulbs all over the place.

Gardens are lovely places but not necessarily Paradise.  I sighed and went back to the kitchen to make my cuppa...

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