I hit the garden today. Thump – soil flew everywhere!
Damn – I promised myself that I wouldn’t stoop to such a poor gag. I am weak.
The temperature hovered somewhere around the 5°C mark, and it didn’t seem horrifically unpleasant. I took the decomposables out to the compost heap, and peered into the gloomy rotting contents, trying to imagine in my head what the stuff at the bottom must be looking like by now.
Due to the absence of any leaves on the bushes, this might be the right time to do some tidying up of the borders. I’d be able to reach to the back to extract the aliens, without needing to fight off a combo of attacks from my chlorophyllic nemeses. If the weather isn’t too horrific at the weekend, that would be an ideal way to pass the time. Thank God that Celebrity Big Brother will soon be finished – I made a mistake in sitting down in front of that show a few weeks back. If I had swiftly turned the television set off, I wouldn’t have formed any sort of interest in these people, and I wouldn’t find myself making time at 9pm every evening to watch them.
One reply on “My Chlorophyllic Nemeses”
[…] The other day I got very excited at the prospect of doing some gardening over the weekend. I hadn’t expected it to be quite so cold. However, on Sunday afternoon, after having been party to the sun’s rays for a few hours, the back garden finally warmed up to a bearable temperature, and I ventured out for a couple of hours before the light faded and I was forced back inside. […]