Wednesday Witter #5: technical hitches and grass

A close-up photo of some grass on a lawn.

This week has mostly been one of trying to get things done amid really annoying hindrances. I’ve been doing my best to complete projects at work before I leave next week despite technology’s best efforts. I’ve also done battle with nature in a desperate bid to find the garden I’m convinced the house came with.

I’m almost there with the former, but the latter is another story. The surprisingly wet ‘drought’ we’ve had has aided the foliage in its evil mission of robbing me of family time.

The dense grass behind our house had got so long that I could have lost Dylan in it. I’m sure the jackdaws that hang around our house were laughing at me as I tried – and failed miserably, as I knew I would – to tackle it with the push-along mower. Wankers.

I resorted to the strimmer that my dad gave us when he got a ruthlessly efficient new one. It has all the enthusiasm and gusto of a work experience kid who didn’t get their first three choices. After attacking the thicket in between four recharges, I found what looked suspiciously like a lawn. Huzzah!

It still needs a mow, but it looks vaguely normal now. I also still need to reclaim the path from the bay tree and other annoying green things with stems and branches. As you can see, I’m not very good with plant names. I decided not to bother when I noticed that there were loads of spiders in the former. Plus I was starting to get dive bombed by the seagulls who hang around to irritate the aforementioned jackdaws.

I turned my attention to the small, neglected area in front of the house that used to be known as the front garden. If you’ve ever played any of the Batman games, the bits where Poison Ivy has got up to her plant-spreading mischief in particular, you’ll have an idea of what faced me.

There was bindweed absolutely everywhere. Forming a carpet on the ground, choking the life out of the roses, climbing the wall and even inside the gas meter.

After an age of pulling up metre upon metre of the bloody stuff – and getting attacked by a small swarm of bees for good measure – the front garden was won back. It actually looks worse now. Next time I’m going to let it grow and pretend I’m going for the ‘wilderness’ look. Well, it works with my face and hair.

Anyway, those jobs are sort of done and I’ll be focusing my energies on my last hurrah at Cats Protection tomorrow. The live Twitter feed at the National Cat Awards awaits. Unless technology has its say once more…


  1. brinabird

    My hubby decided a long time ago that he does not want a house with a garden as he says he will not be the one mowing the lawn! We will just have to make sure there is a park nearby. That is if we ever actually buy a house!

  2. sarah

    your assault on your garden sounds like a indiana Jones adventure…then the cats protection league bit at the end..not sure how that fits in with the movie but hey ho!
    where are you off to? somewhere nice and not grassy?

  3. Sarah Miles

    God, I wish I had some bindweed to choke my roses…I hate the bloody things and they refuse to die. The more I hack them down, the more they sprout into life.

    I gave our bushes a good trim at the weekend *sniggers* and found the fence again!

    Are you sure the stringy, branchy things aren’t clematis?

    Enjoy your last day at CP!

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