This week I’m extremely excited about taking Mum and Terry to their first Chelsea Flower Show. Like me, they are fanatical about growing fruit and veg. Swifty has just about forgiven me for making him rip up the lawn so I could devote the whole garden to growing food. I’d like to take the self sustainability a step further but Swifty has banned me from keeping chickens, goats or bees. I had to settle for a wormery.
I guess this was always on the cards as gardening runs in our family. The RHS should ditch their advice phone line and just get people to ring my Mum instead; her encyclopaedic knowledge gleamed from my Grandad. I vividly remember one of my birthday parties at Grandad's house; within half an hour he’d got all my friends (like an army of child slaves) tying up the sweet peas. ‘Pass the parcel’ had to be abandoned.
I’ll have to stick to a strict budget at Chelsea as it’s easy to get carried away. Last year I brought a ridiculously overpriced pink watering can and truckle. Even in the garden I’m always on-message.
I guess this was always on the cards as gardening runs in our family. The RHS should ditch their advice phone line and just get people to ring my Mum instead; her encyclopaedic knowledge gleamed from my Grandad. I vividly remember one of my birthday parties at Grandad's house; within half an hour he’d got all my friends (like an army of child slaves) tying up the sweet peas. ‘Pass the parcel’ had to be abandoned.
I’ll have to stick to a strict budget at Chelsea as it’s easy to get carried away. Last year I brought a ridiculously overpriced pink watering can and truckle. Even in the garden I’m always on-message.
Anyway, just off to do ‘any other activity for 30 minutes’. Thinking of giving Davina another try, but this time cutting down on the number of squats and lunges. After all, don’t want to be pushed round Chelsea in a wheelchair.
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