Tag Archives: mowing

Wild no more

Today was all about the wildflower patch. Or, rather, the complete decimation of the wildflower patch. Amazingly, it took almost all day. As well as hitting it with the whipper snipper (strimmer for British readers) it had to be raked … Continue reading

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Garden tour

Well, the rain seems to have gone. Today we had a lot of sun distributed between the grey clouds and quite chilly wind. It felt good to be once more working in the garden with the sun to warm me … Continue reading

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Marmalade torpedo

How quickly things revert. One day you’re traipsing around the beautiful bits of France and the next you’re ankle deep in weeds making up for it. Two weeks neglect is a long time for a weed. Even without rain. Actually, … Continue reading

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Puppy confusion

I spent another day hard at it, attacking the weeds in the hot border. In order to preserve my Lovely Hands (see Monday’s entry) I have purchased a box of non-latex, latex gloves. They give you the freedom of dexterity … Continue reading

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My little princess

My feet were killing me today. Following yesterday’s long walk, the last thing they wanted was to be wrapped in socks and trainers. But they would have suffered more if I hadn’t. We set off for the bus as usual … Continue reading

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Green eyed devil dog

Bob Hoskins died today. He was suffering from Parkinson’s and died from pneumonia. I’ll never forget him in Pennies from Heaven and Who Framed Roger Rabbit? He had an amazing capacity to play the everyman role in so many films. … Continue reading

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Stuck in the middle

This afternoon I hosted a meeting between our kitchen guy (OptiBob) and our builder (Dave the Builder). It seems that Mirinda and Dave have some concerns which only OptiBob can sort out. As it turned out, OptiBob and I sorted … Continue reading

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Welding

Being a Wednesday I should be reporting on Date Night, but, instead I went to Farnham to check up on the builders. I do feel my life is a bit topsy turvy at the moment. And it was a beautiful … Continue reading

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Wet grass and magazines

Last week I had a phone call from a woman I’d never heard of. She was desperate. Could I swap an FATN magazine recording. Of course, I told her. I can only assume she’s a presenter from Friday’s. So, this … Continue reading

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The full Irish breakfast

Nicktor and I sat under the gazebo, enjoying the dying rays of the sun over a cup of tea and he remarked that the lawn always looked so much better after mowing. I corrected his use of the term ‘lawn’ … Continue reading

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