Grubby in the garden

The garden calls for attention, its sullen stare makes us feel guilty as it has taken second place to the allotment. We dedicate our bank holiday weekend to it and are rewarded with blue sky, floating clouds and sunshine.

I want to sort out my small vegetable patch which has pride of place outside the back door next to the greenhouse. This year I have more space now the allotment is an established member of the family, I will grow mixed lettuce leaves which I can pick, serve and eat straight from the garden, my own back door vegetable shop. I will also plant some aromatic herbs.

I want to do so much but Mr fatigue still has me in his grip.  Mr H said I should add 'Grouchy' to the Blog Title, cheek. I want to try and lay a small path to make access to my veg plot easier but he replies: 

A) we haven't got any slabs

B) are you off your head

C) where on earth would you get the energy or balance from to lift and lay them...

D) I will do it once we have bought some...

Grrrrrrrr. I storm off....slowly...

Like a stubborn Carol Klein I try to move pots, dead head plants and clear the patch but ten minutes in I feel sick and my head is heavy, low work does not suit me. Mr H takes one look at me and says enough:

Why don't you re-creosote the shed instead? It's a sit, stand job and I will do the veg plot

Good plan..Smooth 70's on the radio I hum my way through songs as I turn me and the shed dark brown.

  

After the surgery Mr H would put a sun lounger out at the front of the cottage and it was a joy just to sit and watch him while he gardened. It was hard for me to stand from the chair let alone garden. Like a judge at the Chelsea flower show I would mark his efforts out of ten. I progressed to short standing up jobs; trimming the lawn edges was my favourite with long handled edging shears. Now I can do short sharp bursts of gardening. 'a bit at a time' is my motto; but I always want to do more.

My main job is to make drinks and provide snacks, I offer Mr H a banana when he sees me munching but he is not so easily fooled:

Open your mouth

No

He moves towards me and I back away, Open your mouth, let me see what you are eating!

Giggling I move away as I tell him Banana

He spots my treats in the kitchen, my sweets are banana flavoured so I am telling the truth...sort of.