Thoughts had while planting veg

“Digging is a pain in the ass. Actually, it’s a pain in the back.”

“What’ll I do with all this topsoil and grass? I don’t need it anywhere else in the garden. Hmm, I’ll just pile it all here under the hedge and worry about it later.”

“What are all these tiny white roots? Grass roots? Something more sinister? It’ll take years to extricate all of these. I’ll leave them.”

“Aieee, what if a rat makes its nest in the pile of grass under the hedge? Rats love compost and things. I hate rats.”

“I’m not making much progress here. I was doing better the other day with the broken spade.”

“Eww! A worm!”

“Another one!”

“Yuck.”

“What’ll I do if I see a rat in my vegetable patch? I couldn’t stay here. Move house. I’ll move house if I see a rat.”

“Christ, what’s that? It’s fat and yellow and sluggy. Maybe it’s a slug. Or a caterpillar. I’ll cover it up and pretend I didn’t see it.”

“Feck it. Another nail broken.”

“‘Sow in drills’? Which ones are the drills again? Peaks or troughs? Hmm, I’ll go troughs.”

“My jeans are ruined. I like these jeans. I got them in Gap in New York. Still, I look more like an authentic gardener with filthy aul jeans. And I’m not wearing a bra. Way-hey, I’m like Charlie Dimmock with brown hair!”

“Why I am planting beetroot? I’ve never cooked beetroot in my life.”

“My back hurts.”

“OK. That’s enough for one day. Time for a cup of tea and a fag.”

“Imagine. I could practically be self-sufficient in a few months. Once I could live entirely on beetroot salad.”

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