it's like ground force, but with more alcohol
It was a gorgeous, sunny, glorious day on Saturday. We decided to tart up the garden this year (next year, we'll redesign and put in some decking) and headed out to our local garden centres. I should probably mention that although I can appreciate a nice looking garden, I enjoy spending time in our backyard, and I love wandering around looking at plants in garden centres, I know absolutely bug all about gardening. I have a basic understanding of plants, such as most of them require water and light to grow, but that's about the extent of my horticultural expertise. So most of Saturday was spent cutting back and trimming various things that I can't identify (if they just have leaves, they're "shrubs"; if they're bushy and have flowers, they're "flowery shrubs"), attacking weeds with a big fork, hacking back an enormous climbing viney thing, and playing a fun game called "Is That a Weed or a Plant?" We put down a layer of bark on the border to suppress weeds and make it look a bit nicer (I admit, I know a tiny bit about gardening from watching reruns of Homefront in the Garden and Ground Force), and Paul mowed the lawn. We bought a chiminea
, which chucks off a lot of heat and adds a lovely atmosphere to the garden when it's lit in the evening. Top tip: don't place it too close to open French doors (or face it towards the house if you've got doors and/or windows open) or the ground floor of your house will become covered by a fine layer of ash. And your house will smell like a campfire.
Paul made us a delicious jumbalaya for dinner and to celebrate our first outdoor meal of the season, he made margaritas. What happens when you've worked really hard all day and you're very hungry and the weather's fabulous is that you may overindulge in food and drink. Although we thought one more margarita was an excellent idea on Saturday night, Sunday morning (and the rest of the day for that matter) we realised that it may not have been such a wise decision. A discussion has ensued about living on grilled chicken, fish, vegetables, fruit, and nice big glasses of water for the next few months.
Yesterday, Paul found the energy and strength to relocate 8 massive paving slabs the size of tombstones from a path leading to the shed to the back of the house. In lieu of a deck (unless someone buys us one as wedding gift), we're extending the patio to fit our chiminea and a wooden table and chairs (an upcoming wedding gift from Paul's Mum and Dad). I stayed inside and decided that it would be a good idea to not jostle myself around too much.
Today I can barely lift my arms to drink my morning tea and can't climb the stairs very quickly. My allergies went ballistic yesterday from all the clipping, trimming, weeding, and crawling around pollenating things. But it's fantastic - I love having a garden. Even if it kills me.