Well I know I promised not to do any more gardening stuff (for a while) but I just wanted to show you one of the bloody weeds I pulled out from our ‘lawn’ yesterday. He put up such a fight that I felt like stringing him up like I’d just landed a tiger shark:-
That’s a single weed, at least 5′ tall, and yes those are sharp barbs. I’ve got cuts on my arms that make Amy Housewine look like an alabaster doll. I reckon landing a tiger shark would have been a doddle compared to this bugger. Anyway he’s on the bonfire now and today he gets his come-uppance: burn weedy burn.
The garden’s starting to look a little clearer at last. Here’s a view of the back terrace where the weed monster used to live:
I wouldn’t exactly call it a lawn yet but at least you can walk on it now without stepping on something soft and black and wondering is that Scruff the tragic vagabond or a mamba? Speaking of which the pooch hasn’t been around for over a day now. He clearly doesn’t like the look of me with giant strimmer in hand and visor on my face looking for all the world like the Tolentino chain-saw massacrer. Run dawgy run..
pp
Pasta Paulie 