One does not garden. One values one’s nails too much. One’s hero is ‘Lady’ Margot Leadbetter.
One and Dh in 1977.
Luckily our garden is 80% paved, with only a small rockery/soil-covered section to one side. Until Sunday the rockery was covered in weeds. No longer. I distracted the girls for an hour on the trampoline, alternating between bouncing and reading stories and shouted encouraging words at dh as he donned some gardening gloves and pulled up massive weeds in a rather manly fashion.
Yesterday he spent a morning in his own personal version of heaven [insert name of massive DIY store/garden centre] and bought various packets of seeds and a germinator-thing. This morning he and the girls (sporting children’s gardening gloves) spent an hour or so planting stuff. I was upstairs working. You read the first paragraph, right?
Apparently they have planted ‘some flowers’ (as yet undetermined) and peas. The germinator (looks like an incubator for plants) is going to grow mint (for my Mojito’s dahling) and currently resides on top of the bookcase in the playroom. Just after the lunch the girls inspected it and moaned that everything was taking ‘AAAAGES’. Well, that’s gardening for you.