It’s my garden. The grass is slowly growing taller, especially in the patches that are carefully watered with grey water. Some bits are going crispy in the sun, but it seems better now than it was maybe 5 weeks ago.
However, DH has mentioned that the grass needs mowing. Oh no! The guy who mows our lawn tends to take the short back and sides approach and that means not just a couple of bald spots, but patches where the grass gets crispy. Normally this doesn’t matter. In winter, it fixes itself quickly. But in summer, the bald spots will stay for ages.
I’ve asked the lawn mower man to cut it “long” but it seems the message doesn’t stay in place long enough for him to finish the lawn. He’s a good bloke in many respects, he is neat and tidy with his gardening and he works very hard. He just puts the lawn in its place so hard it shouts “Ouch!”.
It’s been so hot, I’ve done next to nothing in the garden. I should creep around in the pre-dawn to tuck mulch gently around the rose bushes’ feet, and wear my pink rubber gloves while squashing aphids. But instead, I’m revelling in the early coolness that creeps into our house, finally enjoying a restful sleep. Selfish, I know.