Poor Pickings

"I remember when all this was green... worms the size of yer wotsit. You've really let it go, 'aven'cha. No wonder me fevvers are goin' grey."

Remembering all the work Janet and I put into renovating the back lawn after the builders had finished with it... just as it was beginning to look like grass again... boom, heatwave! 

Apparently we are one of the few places where the water utility isn't issuing a hosepipe ban - we get our supplies from aquifers rather than reservoirs, and still have some dampness. However, no need to gush...

We're leaving it in the tender care of our neighbours kids. It's either be a desert or a marsh when we get back. Given we're on a meter I'm pushing for desert... we can always seed again.

Of course, the weather's on the change... who knows, might even be a lawn. Gardening... it's for the birds.