Gardening, slugs and church matters

I LOVE GARDENING! I have been a fan for quite some time but this year my dear friends, my outdoor space has really come into its own. imageThis is due in no small part to the massive efforts of H2B who, as regular readers will be aware, demolished a shed in about 43 minutes to make way for a vegetable patch.

Initially I did come over a bit Barbara and Tom Good and really got enthused with the whole grow your own thing, and I am still committed to the watering and the weeding.
However, since our recent mollusc invasion it has become clear to me what serious organised crime really is.
The gangs of highly tactical, slimy, disgusting creatures that appear almost as soon as the sun goes down are, bite by bite, munching their way through my dhalias, runner beans and basil (which I have grown from seed. It’s like they are eating my children).
It has to stop. I can even hear them chewing with their vile slimy mouths and they are so blasé about the whole thing. I swear one even turned round and looked at me the other evening and if they had hands (which they don’t) I am pretty sure I would have been given the finger if you know what I mean.
However, the more I think about this, the more I realise why this is happening to me, and yes, it IS personal.
Last year I re-homed two giant african land snails. Dolce and Gabbana (as I named them) were not blessed with charisma or personality but I cared about them, cleaned out their tank, fed them lovely lush leaves and kept them spritzed with regular water spraying.
They are pretty low maintenance as pets go and hibernate from October until May. When they failed to wake up in May we put them on the lawn on a rare sunny day and hey presto-they woke up! However, 24 hours later they were definitely ex-scargot if you know what I mean and Dolce and Gabanna were no more.
I buried them by the runner beans…need I say more? Either they weren’t quite dead and have escaped to ravage my vegetable patch, or their mates consider me to be a murderer and are punishing me by systematically destroying my garden…

The other horticultural dilemma I face is why oh why can weeds put up with basically the hottest summer since 1976 but my sweet peas start to faint if they are not watered hourly? Answers on a postcard please…

Church. Now here’s a thing. I am not really a churchy person. Having declared myself an agnostic and been accused of being a member of the church of Disney some time ago, I haven’t given church much thought.
Imagine my surprise then when I found myself in one at the weekend.All in the name of the imminent nuptials of course I was there to hear the banns being read. And rather nice it was too. We had a good old sing song, said a few prayers and then there was a nod and a wink and a glass of Pino was thrust into my hand. And no…I hadn’t got it confused with the pub.

Tomorrow will be a difficult and sad day for many people I know. This blog is for all of them and one person in particular. EG I actually love you so come and join me on the patio soon xxx
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