Turf War
I really don't mind how my garden looks, as long as it is reasonably neat. However, to the crazy octogenerians in my life (aka parents), this presents a problem. They are keen gardeners and my lack of interest in all things green makes them feel they have to step up to the plate to compensate. They love to meddle.
Last week, they became concerned about the state of my border in the front garden. In fairness it did look a mess, the lavender bushes and roses were very overgrown. My reaction was to agree that yes, it would have to be sorted out, but I hadn't the time to do it right now. I told them to leave it alone, it would be too much for them. I came home on Wednesday to find they had cleared it.
Left with a fait a compli, before I could remonstrate with them, they moved on to what was to be done with the area. All sorts of fancy things were mentioned - most of which involved them doing heavy digging.
"No, you are not doing that!. I am going to turf it over", I said. Their faces fell, they tried again,(this was war!) but they finally admitted defeat.
Yesterday, they descended on me, proudly showing me the new rolls of turf they had bought.
"You get on with what you need to do", they said, " We can do this piffling bit of work"
Of all the things I had planned to do yesterday, gardening wasn't one of them, but I couldn't stand by and watch the octo's struggle. They really aren't as strong as they'd like to think. One of these days their reluctance to admit they should slow down a little will do them no good. Turf is heavy. My back is aching and I am behind with some other jobs, but at least my dear parents are in once piece.
Last week, they became concerned about the state of my border in the front garden. In fairness it did look a mess, the lavender bushes and roses were very overgrown. My reaction was to agree that yes, it would have to be sorted out, but I hadn't the time to do it right now. I told them to leave it alone, it would be too much for them. I came home on Wednesday to find they had cleared it.
Left with a fait a compli, before I could remonstrate with them, they moved on to what was to be done with the area. All sorts of fancy things were mentioned - most of which involved them doing heavy digging.
"No, you are not doing that!. I am going to turf it over", I said. Their faces fell, they tried again,(this was war!) but they finally admitted defeat.
Yesterday, they descended on me, proudly showing me the new rolls of turf they had bought.
"You get on with what you need to do", they said, " We can do this piffling bit of work"
Of all the things I had planned to do yesterday, gardening wasn't one of them, but I couldn't stand by and watch the octo's struggle. They really aren't as strong as they'd like to think. One of these days their reluctance to admit they should slow down a little will do them no good. Turf is heavy. My back is aching and I am behind with some other jobs, but at least my dear parents are in once piece.