I get really fed up with cats and rooks in my garden. I had to give up on the vegetable and herb patches because the cats kept using it as their toilet and the rooks kept digging it up! I still regularly shoo them away when I spot them.
Yesterday I saw a black cat or a rook through the etched glass in the back porch door, (which was why I was unsure as to which it was exactly) so I quietly fetched the key to the door and placed it as quietly as I could in the lock.
"I'm going to have to be quick, unlocking then opening the door," I thought to myself, so I took a deep breath, turned the key and as soon as it clicked, snatched open the door to find...
...a black bin liner on the path.
Well disguised.
Saturday 21 December 2024 - Wythenshawe parkrun #599
15 hours ago
4 comments:
Ruth says:
That is very funny! We get both in our garden too. I'm debating whether to grow veg when we move. Are the results worth the effort (especially once slugs, snails etc have taken their turn...)?
Oh yes! We found the salad leaves most successful, but we had potatoes, peas, broad beans, runner beans, radish, carrots, parsnips, beetroot, spring onions, still have blackberries, (courtesy Uncle Alf and Aunty Joyce?) rhubarb, a new currant bush, (red, I think) and a few herbs in pots.
The children loved growing, picking and eating all of them, makes a huge difference from taking them out of plastic packing from the supermarket for some reason.
Now you're going to have the country life, you have to 'buy into it' and really enjoy it. Ooooo, get an Egglu! You've got to have hens, I want some!
I think you're all going to be really, really happy up there, getting away from the city just gives you such a completely different pace of life.
And mum's going to get around to writing to your mum, at long last! 'Bout time.
Ruth says
Now the hen issue. Here again, I have thought about it, but not sure I can take the poo....?
Excited that your mum's going to write to mine! It'd be lovely if they could meet up.
...makes fantastic compost for the veg patch, I believe...
Chicken poo, not my mother's letters!
Post a Comment