I have never really got gardening. You do it outside in the sun (I don't really do sun), it involves bending over a lot (which I don't do) and it is hard physical work (three words that strike terror into my heart). When I was growing up we had a fairly large garden, some of which was given over to growing stuff apart from grass, but anything we planted always seemed to come to fruition while we were on our summer holidays.
It is therefore somewhat surprising to me that the drive to purchase our new garden came from me as much as from Susan. I think part of the motivation for buying the block we did was that most of the really physical work had been done - it has fencing, mature trees and the ground was tilled. But it is big - the vegetable plot would take a tennis court, and there is about 4 hours worth of grass to mow under the trees.
On Thursday when we were assuming control of the garden we met the man who makes hay on the large piece of land that borders on two side of the garden. Yesterday he stopped heaving hay bales (his machine had broken and he was doing it with a pitchfork) and had a chat with us about how good the trees were looking and how warm the weather was.
Then - this morning I got up at 7.00, went to the loo - and while I was in there I heard an almighty crash. At first I thought it was the top half of the staircase deconstructing itself, but on opening the toilet door I found the ceiling that once sat under the new bathroom floor was now sitting on a table by the back door.
down even before I had a cup of tea.
I feel like I need a lie down even before I have started.
*can't tell if she was trying to be funny or not...