Roguing

Gardening activities at the moment are limited to grabbing handfuls of cleaver and other sneaky weeds from throughout the path beds and borders as I go back and forth.  The cleaver in particular is threatening to dominate my wild (for which read wilderness) garden and I suspect that Fernando has been playing secret agent, as last Summer he kept appearing from mysterious corners covered in the sticky seed pods of these brutes, which now seem to have dropped and sprouted everywere.

For all its dominance, weeding cleaver isn't such a chore.  It's quick to poke its head above the canopy of more welcome flowers, and with a light tug, huge long strands come free.  Like a magic eye picture it takes a second to get your eye in and suddenly cleaver is everywhere.  A few minutes yields a huge and satisfying handful.

The strands that have managed to hide away from me are threatening to flower soon, and the neighbours aren't as limber as I am at reaching deep into the beds, so there is always the threat of incursion from next door's garden.  So you'll be finding me, early mornings and in pyjamas, astride the borders pulling up cleaver for a while yet.