One of my early blog posts was about Mr G, probably the most sprightly 90 year old you could ever wish to meet. His wit was slightly quicker than his feet, and he always had a twinkle in his eye and an abundance of cheeky banter.
He was a very keen gardener, and we’d often joke about what was growing (or not), who had the biggest onions, and how the carrots were doing. (His never grew: mine always got attacked by the carrot fly). He’d also been instrumental in fuelling my enthusiasm for gardening, as I’d bought his old rotovator a year or two ago. From that moment, no patch of grass was safe in my garden, and the veg plots multiplied.
When he was gone, the garden was still overgrown as he hadn’t been well enough to maintain it, and this then became a worry for Mrs G, as they had both taken such a pride in the garden: it was always immaculate and well looked after.
This weekend, four of us decided to do a Ground Force. Armed with bags, tools and of course, the rotovator, we sprung into action. The task looked daunting at first, as the veg plot had gone to seed and the weeds had taken hold.
This was only half of the plot!
However, with four willing pairs of hands and a good few runs to the tip, the garden was soon cleared and was taking shape
A couple of hours later, the area was tidied, and the path was at least clear enough for Mrs G to be able to use more safely. We’ll go back in a week or so and do a final tidy up and prune, but for the meantime, it’s certainly looking a lot better.
I’m sure Mr G would have been pleased.
