What a day. Awake at 7, up at 8, in Waitrose by 8.45, banana oatmeal muffins made by 10, wandering Winchester by 11.30. Arrived home at 1.30 and decided to do a spot of gardening before settling down to read The Guardian. Which we did, but only after 4 hours of backbreaking work. "A spot of gardening" turned into two trips to the garden centre, as we realized that first three and then 13 bags of plum slate chippings weren't going to adequately cover our front garden. In fact, the second trip to the garden centre turned into two trips in and of itself, as I had forgotten my purse and had to drive home to get it, while PJ sat on the final six sacks of chippings. We pinned down a ground cover sheet; I hefted bags of slates from car to garden; PJ sawed borders while I scattered slates; and finally we filled and moved plant pots — tomorrow, we will actually plant the pots with the autumn-planting bulbs that I bought today (after watching Gardener's World last night).
We are both shattered, but it's been well worth it. The formerly unkempt, overgrown front garden is as tidy and low maintenance as I could wish for. The slate chippings will look lovely when it rains (as it often does), as that's when their vdeep purpliness becomes apparent. And we did it ourselves -- and have the aching backs and arms to prove it.
From this:
To this:
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