I'm really indecisive. The subject of how many times the kitchen and Aga have been moved gets brought up far too often if you ask me.
Unfortunately, I'm just the same with the outside. We are Not Happy with our garden. Basically, it's not big enough (and neither is the house) but it's all we're ever likely to have so we,
I, need a way to come to terms with it and lurve it.
Gardening books, mags, programmes and shows have been scrutinised, nay obsessed over, in a bid to find Ideas. But some changes are happening and some have been thrust upon us. And all without a plan being agreed.
Take, for instance, the shed at the bottom of the garden. All forlorn, unloved and leaking it stood, forgotten. Until Hubby decided he needed it for His Stuff. So it's been spruced up, made water-tight (funny how that happens when
he needs it) and moved.
Actually, I quite like its new home, near the house, at the top of the garden. I'm thinking a lick of paint, something lovely growing up the sides, room inside perhaps for a fork or two. He's thinking Hands Off!
The bottom of the garden, also neglected, is now crying out for attention. "Do something with me before the neighbours complain" it shouts at me every time I look out the window. Sometimes it cries "Look at all this wasted space. Space! Wasted! How could you, ye of such small home crammed with lots of kids!"
But for once I know what to do. The climbing frame is earmarked for where the chicken pen is, nicely hidden by the willow tree. Next to it will be the hammock strung between two more trees. And that space opposite, recently vacated by Small Shed will be home to my Potting Shed! Hurrah! I did voice concern that
my shed was a little too close to the Children's Corner to be anything remotely retreat-like but Hubby, with his shed no where near the children, assured me it would be fine.
We, of course, have done nothing yet. There's the rubble waiting to be used as a base. And the overgrown jungle hill has been flattened and is waiting for....well, not sure really. What we really need is a remote control to freeze frame the children for, um, two months to give us a chance to catch up with everything. Either that or a nanny. Alas we have neither so this weekend we will be cracking on.
And the motivation? The chicken pen has now been vacated, thanks to Mr Fox, who rather ironically made good use of the space made by Hubby's shed removal to spy the chickens and make off with them. We've had hens for years and never had any trouble.
I shall miss the Bossy one, who kept laying in my herb bed. Really I feel quite sad about them both. And the partridge eggs Broody (who was always broody) was incubating. Still, I'm trying to look on the bright side, in an irritating Pollyanna-ish way, because I guess it means the garden plans might, finally, come to fruition. If I don't change my mind.
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