My wave of brilliance has given me blisters, the need for a
good back rub and soil in places it just shouldn’t be.
I have decided where I
am going to make the new garden but I thought it would be a good idea to start
with a path that connects the courtyard to the car pad because the garden will
be in between them. I found a good size length of wood to line the sides and I
will use the builders mix for the path with some flat river stones as a feature.
The water table here is quite high so I am going to use an area that is raised
above the lawn so I get good drainage.
This afternoon I grabbed my spade and fork, worked out where
I wanted the path to be and set to digging. The lawn is happily occupied by couch
grass (otherwise known as Twitch grass), a hardy asset if you have a team of rampant rugby players tearing across
it but for me, the one who wants to evict it, it has been a nightmare!
Four CDs
and three coffees later I have made a reasonable dent but still have a few
hours of work left to get it all pulled out and every little bit has to come
out. Couch grass has all these runners and it weaves itself into a mat which
grips onto the soil for dear life. You can dig, tug and pull until you are
breathless and beetroot red and it will STILL not release its deathly grip!
I must have looked quite a sight, boobs down, bum up,
huffing and puffing as I groped handfuls of rope like runners that refused to
budge even an inch. I lost count how many times I ended up on my butt, all I
can hope is that the neighbours haven’t posted my antics on you tube. All the
while Diesel is dropping his hotdog squeaky toy at my feet, completely
oblivious to my predicament and Mr just sat on top of the car sunning himself
while quietly supervising the project. Even the chooks ignored the commotion
and found themselves a nice nook to snuggle down and have a dust bath.
