Spring forward

A small reminder to everyone in the UK to remember to put your clocks forward by one hour tonight. Officially you should do this at 1am but making sure your alarm clock is done before you go to sleep is probably all you need worry about until tomorrow.

It’s yet another sign, alongside the buds on the cherry blossom I can see from the window as I type this blog post, that spring is coming.

And that means, once again, the war against our garden begins.

Yes yes, we should’ve been out there already but in a trend similar to last year, every weekend we find ourselves at home and with free time, it’s been raining. We do keep saying that we should go out of an evening and do a few bits and bobs then but given that we leave the house at 7am, and don’t get back in until around 6.20pm most evenings then.. yeah the first priority is usually dinner.

This year we have the porch to re-varnish, the fence to paint (both sides of the garden) and that’s at a minimum. We have other plans but they constantly change and, to be frank, we are still fighting the years of neglect the garden had before we moved in.

When we bought the house the thinking was that we would enjoy being out in the garden, and sitting out of a summers evening but so much has changed since then that it just hasn’t come about that way. We’ve slowly been chipping away at the neglect inside the house but, as yet, we aren’t in a position where we could sell it without investing more money. Not that we are planning to sell up, but given the current climate I’d much rather be in a position to be able to, than be in the position of having to do more work.

So, the chore that is the garden will need to be tackled, it really must. Really. Must. I mean I should stop typing, get up and at least spend an hour or so today, whilst it’s dry and before we head through to visit family. I should. I must. I will.

Just let me go reset my alarm clock first…

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Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

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Chore? Chore?! Surely a mistake? Shouldn’t that read “pleasure”?

And it’s good for your physical and mental wellbeing.

AND if you jump on the bandwagon and grow your own, you could literally enjoy the fruits of your labours.

*AND* a bit of digging will provide somewhere soft for the cat to crap.

What more reason could you need to get out there?

mum says:

graybo – (in defense of my boy!) poor G has soil like brick – solid clay, which makes digging not only a chore but frankly bone breaking. A ‘bit of digging’ in his garden will never produce ‘somewhere soft’ in spite of their efforts to dig in compost etc. In fact he could set up in the pottery business come to think of it…?

Cheers Mum,

Although the truth is I’m just a lazy sod.. but ta anyway!

Join that scheme whereby you ‘give’ your garden to someone who wants one, let them do the work and share the produce.

You either enjoy gardening or you don’t, IMHO.

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