Eye of the Storm

Further to what I would have you believe, it hasn’t been all dank and deluge this last week. Wednesday was beautiful. The sun shone, the breeze was light.

This fabulous day was to be spent working at The Fit Family’s lovely country garden where I have recently created a new bed. This new border, sunny and sheltered, has been planted full of exotic lovelies such as Hedychium greenii, Wachendorfia thyrsiflora and a variegated beschorneria. However, the ground is poor, little more than clayey, rocky subsoil, so improvement was imperative. Unfortunately, synchronicity was not on my side and the spent mushroom compost did not come in time for planting. Not ideal, but it could be added later, getting the plants into the ground was the priority. The soil improver was due to arrive before my next visit.

And so it had. A pallet of the lovely stuff had been delivered, along with a builder’s bag of woodchip mulch. The only problem was that it was 4 wide steps and several tens of meters away from its intended place. It was also pouring with rain. Not to worry, I thought, I’m sure Mr Fit will be out in just a minute to help me.

Luckily, after my sojourn at Cliffe, I have advanced level barrowing skills, albeit a little rusty, and gamely I began. The bags were much heavier than the last load I’d distributed and I couldn’t even lift one into the wheelbarrow let alone get it up the steps. Not the best start. What now? Jedi advice from an ex-boss echoed in my ears, (who was actually more Gimli than Yoda, with a temperament to match) “Old age and cunning, Gill, use old age and cunning”. Inspired, somehow I managed to hoik one into place, cut it open, empty half into the barrow, hoik the half full bag out. Then backwards I inched up the steps and across the lawn to the bed. And repeat. Twenty-two times. In the rain.

Unfortunately, Mr Fit had a pressing appointment (non-specific) elsewhere (or was it an allergy to rain?) and wasn’t available to assist.

I can’t think why I’ve got a bad back.

This week all that was left to be done was to apply a woodchip mulch, which would finish the bed off nicely. As I was driving to work, the sun shining in a rather disturbing manner, I was hoping that the fairies might have helped in the fortnight I had been away. But no, no supernatural help had manifested itself. There, looming proud, was the full bag of chippings next to the nine remaining compost bags. Mr Fairweather Fit, as he shall be known from this day onwards, appeared eager to help by shifting the compost. “Blimey, these are much heavier than last time!” he said as he lugged them up the steps, puffing and panting, then barrowed them to a more convenient corner. Another pressing appointment beckoned.

I spent the next few hours shoveling chippings into the wheelbarrow, hoiking them up ……… you get the picture.

Can’t imagine why ….. you get the picture.

17 thoughts on “Eye of the Storm

  1. A picture of the bags would have elicited even more appreciation…but it is keeping you employed at a time many gardens go to sleep. Those plants are completely unknown to me I must google them! Get him indoors to give you a good massage makes such a difference. I mean Mr OTEG!

    Liked by 2 people

      1. Would you consider removing one barrow load in order to get the photographic evidence? There would be no need to bring it back down steps simply to bring it all the way back up again. Just a thought. 😜

        Liked by 1 person

      1. No problem. My preliminary design fee will be £230 ex VAT. My standard terms allow for 45 minutes of plan revision time. Thereafter, £100 per hour or part thereof. Do you want me to add provision for chocolate Hobnobs? Additional fees for catscan of designs are negotiable.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Gill I can’t figure out how to contact you otherwise than through a comment. May I use the photo (properly credited and copyrighted) at the bottom of Eye of the Storm for my blog review in the Port Coquitlam Sprout newsletter (our local gardening club in BC, Canada) please. What is that plant in seed? Thank you, Joan Fisher (je_fisher@telus.net)

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