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Green Fingers

I did some gardening, for the first time since we moved into the house. Normally, my pot-bellied wife takes care of the garden, but now that her tummy is really ballooning at an alarming rate, she is physically unable to weed, mow and plant.

I’m not much of a wizard in the garden. When people say that I’ve got green fingers, they generally refer to my nose-cleaning habits, not my gardening skills. In fact, I couldn’t remember when was the last time that I took care of plants, apart from mowing the grass in the back yard. The tools I found in the shed looked vaguely familiar, but don’t ask me what you should use to weed the weeds or to trim the bushes. I decided on some claw-like implement on a long stick and what I recognised to be a common rake. Armed with these basic tools, I succeeded in loosening the weeds with the claw and then rake the together. Success was mine!

The many thistles were another matter. Our front garden was stuffed with thistles, in fact. You’re obliged to remove them as fast as possible, otherwise the police can come around and give you a warning, or even a ticket. Despite the enormous size of our thistles we never had any complaints. I figured out why, as I discovered the bodily remains of at least three police officers between the sharp spikes of the thorny plants. I had to rip them out with roots and all, otherwise they would grow back in an instant. Back-breaking work, but luckily I’m completely spineless as anyone who knows me can tell you.

When I was done gardening, our front garden looked like the lush green space that is the Skeleton Coast: an absolute desert. Apart from the odd green sprout that I identified as a real plant or flower between the jungle of weeds, and our rose bush, there was nothing left. The wind was blowing up the dust and tumbleweed rolled over and over.

Let no-one say I do a half-arsed job!

You Haul 16 Tonnes

Last Saturday, I decided to clean the rubbish out of our garden and bring it to the container park. Because of the refurbishing of the dining room (that we don’t use to dine) and our bedroom, and the reparation of the roof of the annex, we had a number of piles of various types of debris in the garden.

Cats On The Loose

Sunday was the big day for our two man-eating tigers, Macka (pronounced Match-ka) and Snijeg. After a year in prison they were given early parole. They were born in the wild, but their mother disappeared mysteriously so a friend of mine took them home and managed to persuade us to adopt them. That meant they would live their lives confined to the walls of our second floor apartment.

But when it became clear earlier this year that we would have to find another place, it wasn’t before long that we decided to find a house with a garden. Not just for the cats’ sake, we want also want our children to enjoy playing out in the garden. The bonus for us will be that we won’t have to take them to the park every couple of days to keep their ADHD in check.

Macka and Snijeg had to remain indoors for the first couple of weeks, to get them accustomed to their new surroundings. At first their territory was limited to the kitchen, living room and the small space next to the kitchen that has no official name yet and where we installed various things that didn’t find another place yet, including the washing machine. Last week we allowed them to run havoc in the hallway and on the stairs to the first and second floor, after I had carefully tucked away the telephone and internet cables. One of their favourite hobbies, apart from ripping the new wall paper to shreds, is chewing on thin cables like the ones that hook up a stereo, telephone, computer or any other very expensive device.

And now the last magical gate has opened. The last couple of weeks they have been mystified by the garden door. They were allowed a view onto the world beyond, through the fly door which they surprisingly didn’t shred to pieces.

Snijeg (the white one) was the first out. Despite being fond of water, Macka didn’t like the rain. But he soon followed. With their behinds close to the ground and their heads bobbing up and down, they sniffed their way onto the terrace and later into the garden. They loved the shrubbery that borders our garden, but they were a bit apprehensive of that strange green blanket that covers most of the garden. The lawn was wet, but Snijeg quickly discovered that it was soft and fun. Best of all, you can chew on it, just like the plants in the living room! Slowly they worked their way through the whole garden. Snijeg eagerly followed a couple of young doves that were fighting in a tree close buy. Whether he wanted to make new friends or he was thinking about lunch I do not know.

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