Last Sunday I dug out a load of earth from the bottom of our compost bin/wormery. That was properly hard work. You have to open a little hatch, no, first you have to clear the weeds, THEN you prise open the hatch and then you delve in and grubble out the thick, black, soft, claggy, compost, and all its accompanying worms (sorry, little fellas). That's as far as I got with the garden.
He managed to mow the grass, no first he got the mower out from the bag of the mini-shed, then he found the thingy for sharpening the blades, then he sharpened the blades, then he replenished the petrol, and THEN he mowed the grass.
Mowing makes an instant difference, although I was sorry to see the single cowslip that had appeared in the front lawn disappear. And all the tiny violas.
This week he has painted the concrete rain shelter over the new front door - oh wow - that smartened things up. Once we have replaced the door number and the door knocker (hopefully NOT with some horrible synthetic push-button "Westminster chimes"), and got rid of the weeds and put grass seed on the bare patches on the front "lawn", and dug out the front flower bed, and replaced the weeds and twitch with some carefully chosen evergreen shrubs, we will have a respectable and inviting front to our house. After 31 years.
Meanwhile we have changed the dead daffodils and gone-over camellia and hellebore with two of these, one either side of the front door, using up the earth extracted from the wormery.
Nice.
Oh, and we also took about 10 bags of accumulated unwanted stuff to the British Heart Foundation. Just another half-dozen bags to go. You remember - the things that I started clearing out back in the first week of January? And the bags of clothes etc from my parents' flat when they moved in February?
So that's caught up with the New Year Resolution, the one that said "Two bags to the charity shop every month".
That's happiness-making.
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