That pesky patch at the far end of the flat terrace that I never got round to sorting.
Well I wished for rain. And this is what we got.
Snow. A good mighty day of snow.
Marvellous for walking in, but not for finding one’s weeds. I waited it out. And that snow melt created the most perfect moist surface on the ground at last.
This is gardening as it should be. All prongs into the soil, a sharp push with a boot, twist and over it goes.
So I spent a lot of time kneeling and sifting and flinging. But that was fine. I tell you it was a smile on my face winter job.
And the actual soil was a dream. Just rock, stones and soft dirt. Only one random bit of broken glass; which makes a nice change after weeding the guest house garden steep bank where every second handful of dirt seemed to yield a bit of broken beer bottle.
And I had company for a lot of the first day. Yes, Artur was doing a spot of surfing on the back of my legs while I kneeled. He found it most accommodating. and I had to learn how to bend and weed in a wide arc. I didn’t want to shove him off. The warm furry cat is actually a bonus in winter weather.
He got bored eventually and mooched off.
And I was able to work a bit faster. I can’t leave this soil bare for long. I need to chip branches and mulch the soil for spring. For now it is weed free and friable as can be. I have to either buy more plants or just be patient and take cuttings in spring.
Next job – next door. The other side of the fence. The wild boar have run amok and I want to level the bank around the huge pine tree.
The weeding material makes a perfect product to build up the edge of the bank beside the fence.
Next week – the thrilling promise of yet more shots of artfully raked dirt. Just in time for Christmas.