Wednesday 29 April 2009

The trials of top soil....

Well well, who would have thought it - I paid for mud! Not Kurt Geiger, not Gucci, not Yves Saint Laurant masacara, I handed over hard earned money... for mud.

Soil actually - and not just any soil, but great, 'proper good' soil that is going to feed my vegetables the food I can't. It's from under a house apparently, and very rich. Which is just as well because I am now considerably poor.

According to my secret team of experts (it's not what you know, it's who you know), it's worth investing in the good stuff so I bartered the chap down, he wanted £80 for two tons, I wanted to pay £30 for one ton, in the end I got two tons for 50 quid - and that's after he told me "you can't sweet talk me my ansum". Yeah right.

Now, I am not sure if it's because I am a girl, or because I had a dim moment, but I did not consider a few things... a, where to put the soil, b, a tarp to put the soil on, c, how to move the soil... well - I had a rough idea that the word boyfriend fits in there somewhere.

I rushed home from work (thanks boss for letting me off five minutes early), grabbed a rotting wheel barrow and a shovel (way to big for little me) and trecked home with the barrow precariously balanced in the passenger seat of my soft-top and the spade waving jerkily at all who dared laugh - it's a good look you know, country chic.

I also did not consider just how much soil two tons of soil is. I knew it was quite a bit.... but THAT MUCH? The chap - pocketed his money and proceeded to skillfully dump the soil in front of our garage on the road. It took about four hours to move it, I don't know what else we could of done, it was as good a place as any, the neighbours were amused.

My boyfriend was not.

Still, he rolled up his shirtsleves, gleefully rubbed his hands together and laughed at my latest effort to 'get something done'.

Ten cups of tea and sore everything later we washed the mud from outside our house and eachothers faces, returned the gardening tools to our friendly neighbours (see how gardening is uniting us already) and collapsed into bed - a job well done. I have the bestest, most supreme muddy patch in the world in which to play in, for some reason, this makes me more happy than the new shoes I got on Saturday... what's happening to me?

Watch this space for my vegetable picking dramas...

Tally ho!

Jess x


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