But a lawn with straight edges? Could I have one of them?
|This is what the olive tree|
looked like when
I first planted it.
But . . . I was thinking of digging up the garden anyway . . .
So, yesterday, knowing people might find it funny that I find it funny (and hoping no-one will be offended if I expect them to find it funny - after all, lots of people (you for instance) might have straight edged lawns and keep a perfectly straight face about it) - I began.
The box hedge is dug out.
The olive tree is gone.
The gravel path is stuck over with mud because I didn't cover it before starting.
Bulbs with shoots have been turned out of their hiding places . . .
* * *
Autumn, I find, is the perfect time for digging.
The earth smells good.
A fine rain comes in.
Digging, when you can do it, is good for its own sake.
If I had a big and beautiful garden, I wouldn't be able to do such things.
Mind, if I had a bigger garden, there wouldn't have been an olive tree in the way of the only place a lawn could be - and digging out the olive wasn't entirely straight-forward.
With a small and muddled garden, I can do some digging, make a lawn with esoteric humour and chat with the 'weeds' I've planted in pots, rearranging them from time to time and apologising because I sometimes forget to water them and even 'weeds' like a drink in dry weather.
(Don't tell 'House and Garden' Magazine. It's not their kind of photo shoot.)
P.S. If it weren't that hydrangea bushes are bulky, I'd be tempted to take out the espaliered apple and plant a row in front of a wall - give the garden a completely new and different atmosphere . . . sedate, peaceful . . .