Oh fickle weather how you torment me! I was hoping to have a leisurely cuppa and grass cutting day at my Nan’s. She can’t do the garden by herself, so one of the family goes and keeps it tidy. I said that I would go over there today and cut the grass. This isn’t a big task, the three areas of turf are only 9-10 feet square.
Unfortunately, our grand British weather decided to rain just as I arrived. I had geared myself up for this and I had my wellies so I was determined to do it. While my wife took our nan out shopping, I patiently waited for a break in the rain. After about an hour, it stopped and I was poised and ready for action.
With all the precision of an F1 pit crew, I quickly assembled the mower and made my way across the lawn. Despite my anxiety convinced that I was going to get electrocuted or something, I carried on and went on to the strimmer. Clippings of grass flew everywhere as I turned the lawn into something they would be proud to use in lawn tennis or golf.
I even resisted the constant nagging in my mind to wash my hands as I so often get when I do these things. My stubborn side refuses to stop me doing these things, even though it nags away at me for a while afterwards.
I would take a picture of the said lawn in all its splendor, but I fear the gardening fraternity wouldn’t be able to cope with its sheer beauty…actually I forgot to take one, but it looks as good as it sounds.
Now I am off for a cup of tea and maybe yoga!