It turns out that carrying five litres of weed killer from Huddersfield to Halifasx can be a bit of a pain. Mainly in the shoulder my rucksack was on.
And that was with most of the journey done by bus.
What’s even more annoying is that I then decided not to use the weed killer because it says you should try and avoid using it within six hours of rain, and the skies were black as anything. And now, some twelve hours later there has not been a drop of rain, so I could have done the bloody stuff.
Instead, though, I helped mother in her new found vendetta against plant life.
Mum has realised that keeping the garden as dad used to have it is beyond the scope of a small, half-bling woman. So she’s working to remove things and downsize the plant situation.
First target on her hitlist was a hazel which, it’s fair to say, has gone mental quite recently. But she looked it up in her book and discovered it could go to twenty feet high and fifteen feet wide and decided she doesn’t have the tolerance for it, so we cut it down.
It was probably approaching half of its target height and was well on its way to spreading out, because having cut it back it was amazing the difference it made. Not just in the garden, but in the relaxed nature of the aforementioned small and half-blind pensioner.
Then it was full steam ahead with chopping things up. Mum said that my aunt is arranging for my uncle to come up and chop things down with his chainsaw. But I’m not having that. Chainsaws are fun. And because they only ever show up for the fun stuff, I’m trying to get all the trees dealt with before hand. Without a chainsaw. I used a manual saw which was partially powered by expletives.
But then, it’s quite hard to cut down a tree which, over the course of its growing life has swallowed into itself several portions of trellis. There’s nothing more soul destroying than cutting through a tree trunk only to find that gravity does not kick in as you’d expect and the section of trunk you’re dealing with continues to hang in place.
It took more effort to get it removed from that position than it did to saw through the fricking thing.
But I have a taste for it now.
And, apparently, so does mum.
I know where I’m headed next. But, unfortunately, any route to it is hugely overgrown.
Oh, and it involves holly. So there will be a lot more expletives to drive the saw.
If I can ever get to it.
And I’m under very strict instructions not to just cut it off at the bottom and “see what happens.”
But if I do it while mum’s away visiting my sister, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. I mean, it could take out any of three neighbouring gardens and/or the polytunnel greenhouse.
But again, what she doesn’t know…