Who would like a 'holiday' in this part of the world in exchange for planting all the things I have in pots into the garden? I'm sure I don't care where you put them just so long as they get planted somewhere. Then I wouldn't have to agonise over placement, wondering if that's where I really want to put it, and will it look right with the other things around, or will it grow too big, or not big enough, or not at all? I won't have to walk for miles around the garden wheeling a barrow full of compost and stacked with spade, fork, secateurs, trowel, watering can, fertiliser, snail pellets, mulch and, if there's any room, the plants themselves. I won't get to the far corner of the garden and decide that the ground is too hard and needs watering and feeding, and these plants probably wouldn't suit that position anyway. Then I'll move them all back up the hill, climb the steps and plonk them back on the deck from whence they came. Now I'm too tired to put everything else away so just let's leave it in the barrow, and wait for the inevitable question at the end of the day, "Have you put all your tools away?" Oh bother!!
On second thoughts, I withdraw the offer of a such a holiday. After all, this is my garden and it will just have to live, or die, by the decisions I make. Isn't that the challenge and the joy of gardening?
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