Parachute weed seeds keep punching me in the nose. Ouch! Cleavers sticks to my hands, grass clumps have been giving my shoulders a great workout. Bits of me are sore already.
Rough and tough weeding
This is rough, tough weeding, and not particularly enjoyable. A small, insignificant gardener is battling indestructible weeds of epic proportions (cue brass section). It's a big-screen gardening blockbuster, physically demanding, and will wreck my digital dexterity (piano practice scheduled for later will have to be Adagio sostenuto). My gardening jeans, clean on this morning, are already filthy with soil.
The area I'm working in is right on the edge of my garden universe. It's a bit wild, filled with half buried tree stumps, self-sown Pittosorums and Viburnums. Paths are smothered with ground cover growth. There's also a grove of Genista, all self seeded from one little plant called 'Little Imp'. Very naughty!
Four Hours Later...
I need rejuvenating! Just said hello to a tired ninety-year-old lady in the bathroom mirror. Eek! Not looking the slightest bit heroic. I'm sorry, but that's enough weeding for today. Cheers to the invasive Lamium and the Periwinkle, though. Not much manages to grow through you two. Keep up the good work. Might shift in some more Agapanthus, packing the roots really close...
I didn't do the Agapanthus. Spent a happy couple of weed-free hours in the calm of the glass-house potting up flower seedlings (mainly Orlaya and Marigolds). Shifted some bigger ones outside to harden off. Giggled as one of my Fred cats tried (unsuccessfully) to walk down the glass roof. Plop he went into the garden, after a spectacular slide. Didn't seem to bother him at all.
More of The Hump Garden Weeded
Am now going back into the garden to shift the hoses and pour buckets of water on the new roses. I will ignore the Hump, and glide around in silence thinking serene, weed-free thoughts. Yeay!
Aha! Guess what? Today I am continuing what I started yesterday. The Gardener Strikes Back, right? Let the battle recommence. Cue battle music.
So far I've weeded resolutely for three hours, on my hands and knees. If I pull out one parachute weed, then that's up to sixty little seeds (I counted them) that won't germinate next spring. So even pulling one out is a good thing, yes?
Six hours I've done. In one place. I've cleared Periwinkle and Lamium off a path. I've weeded, and weeded some more. I've planted four barrow loads of Agapanthus pieces. Heroic I am.
Rewards : a triumphant march, flutes tootling happily, from the shower to the kitchen. Then a nice cup of tea and more of my autumn train ride (Youtube) across Siberia. People assume that Siberia is full of nothing. Well, I'm enjoying watching lots of interesting nothing. So there!