Thursday, 12 May 2011


Those of you who are regulars will have picked up by now that I have a cleaning lady. I also have a gardener. This does not make me rich or posh. It is a hang over from the time when I worked every day and often all hours of everyday. They both worked for my husband after his wife died and so had already got their routines and bad habits.
My cleaner is a friend. She drinks copious cups of coffee in between a huge amount of vacuuming. She keeps me in touch with the village and we get on. I married her to her long term partner last year.
The gardener is different. He thinks I am just plain bonkers. Whose to say he's wrong? He is a suburban gardener , used to keeping small areas under control. Mine is not small in any was a field once and I am trying to grow an orchard amongst flowering shrubs and roses.
It has acres of Cornish wall and hedge around it and he doesn't understand when I forbid him to trim them into green concrete looking erections. the wild rose hedge mingles with the fuchsia hedge and they look and smell wonderful.
I love the valerian and the other wild flowers that proliferate and he is forbidden to root them up. He scowls at my approach and we have a healthy respect for each other.
He negotiates with me every week and we are slowly giving ground to each other. But I am and God together.

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