Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Yep that's really helpful......

Monday morning I awoke with the lark, or the cockerel crowing or something like that, either way I was up at 5, had my coffee and was raring to go.

The chickens were still blinking at me bleary eyed when I opened the hen house at 6, bunch of slackers that they are they don't rise until 8 as a rule.  The baby bunnies were all still curled up around their mummy while I was busy getting their feed and water, very cute.

With the animals sorted I decided to tackle a few weeds in the garden after the weekend storm.

So you need to picture the scene now:  I have been awake for a couple of hours, done the morning animal chores, managed to get the sole pair of nice-ish clean pyjamas dirty (because of course I didn't get dressed when I got up so as not to disturbed gently sleeping other half), so I am in my clean on 24 hours ago pjs, in my muck boots, now speckled with chicken poo and dirty animal drinking water, hoeing the garden for all I am worth in 20°C at 9 in the morning - when my dearly beloved stumbles to the front door.

He asks if I want coffee - I point out I am streaming with sweat because I am a tad warm but could do with a glass of water.  He shuffles back inside.

Half an hour later he shuffles back outside - would I like any help - I reply - very calmy - that would be lovely thank you.  (I do not at this point mention the water).

Half an hour goes by as he finds his gloves, goes to the barn to get a hoe, remembers that all my gardening stuff is now in the garage - where he told me to move it to in order to free up the space in the barn 3 months ago, so gets his hoe, and comes and stands in the same row I am working my way down.  I point out that another row would be a better place for him to start work.  He shuffles off.

I work down the row of cabbages, turn the corner and start down the row of beetroots.  It is very hot.  I have been outside working for a couple of hours now, I manage to refrain from mentioning the water and opt to just finish the weeding then call it a day in the garden.

As I turn around I catch from the corner of my eye the industrious hard work happening at the bottom of the garden as he weeds the pumpkin row - then I shake myself awake from my day dream and spy him eyeing up the redcurrants - there are some ripe for picking again - he cries.  I know - I reply, but I am trying to weed before it gets too hot to do anything ourside - oh yeah - he says - quite hot isn't it already.  Half an hour passes as he stares at the beautiful clear blue sky.

I work my way up the patty pan squash row, through the salads, then the tomatoes, around the fennel, around the cucumbers and get to the pea canes, only two rows of these and the whole top half of the garden is weeded and I can get a my glass of water because it is really very hot, and I have been working for a few hours now and a break would be good.

As I turn the corner to the peas, I spy a hoe on the ground and no other half attached to it - ah I think - he remembered the water, still better late than never.  But no - no sign of him, and the pumpkins could only be considered weeded if by weeded you meant untouched.

I thought I'd help you with the peas - he says from beside me.  Oh lovely but I've nearly finished weeding now and then I'm going inside for a bath - I say.

Oh thats OK - says he - I'll  pick them when you've finished weeding then you can pod them and put them in the freezer.


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