Gardening

An icy wind blows. The sun is shining. I’ve got my washing out & it seems to be drying fast. So much for the weatherman’s prediction of rain!

We’re once more without a gardener. Di has decided she’d prefer the security of a regular job at the power station rather than the insecurity of a rather seasonal job as a self-employed gardener. I can’t entirely blame her. However, it does mean we’re once more without a gardener.

Last week, as it was milder & I was coming to the conclusion Di wasn’t going to manage on her own, especially if she was going to end up with phases of 12 hour nights, I got out & did a bit. The Fox was impressed by what an impact I’d made. We’re now wondering if, between the two of us, we could keep on top of it. After all it is supposed to be low maintenance.

My anxiety is if I have another spell of ill-health. The garden was immaculate when we arrived here. Then I went through a phase of ill-health (cancer) & we had to support parents through the loss of my brother, dementia & subsequently all their deaths. By the time I was up to venturing into the garden, a few years later, it had already become a jungle, with self-planted trees, rampant weeds such as couch grass & mare’s tails. It would be a pity for the same to happen again & I can’t be confident my health will keep going. For that matter I’m not even confident about the Fox’s health since his stroke (even though he’s more or less got back to feeling like himself again at last). We also must accept the fact we are both in our 60s now. Time’s chariot is winging its way this way fast. The Fox becomes a pensioner next month. Another few years I will be joining him. Neither of our energy levels or fitness are what they were.