I'm not so much a 'Constant Gardener'
as more as a ' resistant' one, this I freely admit – being of sound
mind and meager body. I lean towards the flotsam and jetsom of life
than the flora and fauna of me backyard. But, every now and then I
throw myself at the mercy of garden life,and take up a shovel against
a sea of herbaceous borders. This weekend I have spent hours of
blood, sweat and toil, digging up and turning over an area of soil at
the end of the garden. Was I rewarded for my efforts by the discovery
of a horde of old gold coins, a long lost family piece of jewelry
perchance or even unearthing a Roman mosaic flooring, the answer
to this is ….NO ! What I DID find however – beyond the fact my
garden was laid over an old cat repository site a sort of crap version
of a pet cemetery, and still seemingly fairly active - was a ton
and a half of stone sleeper blocks, a selection of floor tiles and a
mass of knotted fibrous roots.
I only continued out of scientific research, I wanted to see how far down I had to go before
I struck actual... SOIL !
It seems to me that anyone who
believes they can tend to their garden armed with just their trusty
spade and rake are sorely misguided, and are doomed to
disappointment. For the modern gardener now needs pneumatic drills,
excavation diggers and in extreme cases high explosives. He also
needs to be fully aware of protecting his borders – re fencing –
archaeology and most importantly have a good medical plan !
I finally retired from green duty
for the day, my green fingers now red with blood, sustained from a
nasty run-in from a thorn bush,and numb with an over enthusiastic
handling of nettles. So, in conclusion until I venture out-back once
more I say, “ Don't give me all this ' Love Your Garden' malarkey,”
and if Alan Titmarsh ever came to MY HOUSE I'll tell him just where
he can....DIG IT !
