Wednesday, July 20, 2005

The new farmer Giles

A couple of weeks ago I made enquiries into securing an allotment. Understand this was not due to any great desire to grow my own produce, as I've never done any gardening beyond lawn mowing, and I always manage to get tangled in flex every time I do that, but only to get myself a little privacy, and a shed to enjoy it in.

Living at home is not at all bad, and although I have my own room and privacy, I don't have any space I can really consider mine. Well, now I do. And fuck me if it's not the most misguided, dumb-assed, ill-considered thing I've ever done. The plot hasn't been cultivated for about two years and is a fucking jungle. Luckily it doesn't look like too many of the weeds are of truly evil varieties, and that cutting and digging will get rid of most of them, but three hundred square metres is an undeniable shit-load of digging. I'm taking a four stage approach to the clearance. First, sickle away as much growth as possible; then get the secateurs out on the brambles; when all the really woody growth is down to ground level, break out the strimmer. Finally dig, fork and rake over. It's far too late to plant anything this year, but with all the work I'm not going to have a sowable plot until January anyway. Fortunately, there are already some pretty mature apple and plum trees, as well as tons of rasp, black and gooseberries, but the most amazing discovery recently was of a fucking pond in the middle of it all, completely obscured by wild growth. This discovery was, most fortuitously, made with only one leg and my sock has dried nicely. I haven't got the first idea of what I'm doing, but it's good, honest, hard work and I'm getting a hell of a tan.

And some fucker's done padlocked my shed.

Category: Meatspace

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