Garden Reclamation

Where's my lawn gone?

 Last Thursday we returned home, after our ten weeks visit to Spain, to find our neatly mown back-garden lawn; not quite up to the standard of a tennis court; had turned into a meadow and the previously tidy shrubberies looking like miniature jungles. The grass had grown to knee level for an average height person but for a shorty like me it was up to my thigh.

 On Friday afternoon, assisted only by my middle-aged electric hover lawnmower, I began my garden reclamation. I couldn't delay the start as the rotary washing line had to be brought into use, without delay, and part of is circle of operation was above the lawn. After working for a nearly two hours in the heat from the blazing sun in the cloudless azure sky, and the added fact that the Wimbledon Men's Semi-final was being shown on the television, I stopped for the day with only part of the task done.

I've almost found it!

Three more mornings of half-day working; had to take into account the Wimbledon Finals on Saturday and Sunday, and the afternoon siesta periods; were needed to return the lawn, its edging, and neighbouring nine inches wide strips of the edges of the shrubberies back to some resemblance of acceptability. The cut grass is looking beige and dry but the emerald green hue will soon return.

There it is!

During the time of my labours I was constantly under the observation of the resident family of Blackbirds. They were vigilantly inquisitive, seemingly happy that they could probe for worms and grubs on the newly cut area. They were venturing very close to me, and my hover, quickly moving into fresh pastures beige.

It's keeping its eye on me.