What a difference some weeds make

Before weeding

I wish that I had a massive garden. Well, a smallholding really. That’s the eventual dream, to be able to potter out of our house and see our cows and sheep grazing our fields in the distance, to wander about lovely large veggie patches next to the house whilst the chickens burble away at me demanding corn. I would use a razor hoe to grab weeds when I see them and all would be in perfect harmony.

Weeds creeping under the fence


Back to reality and my tiny London patio garden which has started to look really shabby around the edges. The problem? My neighbour rents his house out by the room to a bunch of people that have no interest in keeping it tidy. The weeds in his garden regularly top our six foot fences (which we had to replace last year) and they also sneak underground onto our land and push up through my raised sleeper beds. So we’re not just weeding our own patch (by hand and with suppressant material, never with pesticide), we essentially have extra work because he never deals with his. Anyway, moan over, it is what it is, but it has meant that the garden has become incredibly messy over the last few months when bending over has become a bit too uncomfortable for me. But with the baby arriving next week, I resolved to do something about it and just three hours after the gardener started, look at the difference!

Post weeding (Cat conveniently in shot again)


It was an odd feeling, hiring someone to do something I’d usually do myself in stages, but very satisfying to know that at least it’s done now, and that my poor plants are being given a break from the attention of the interlopers.

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We farm a three acre smallholding in Hampshire, England, having fled London in pursuit of the good life for our little family. We mess about with an assorted menagerie and try to be as self-sufficient as possible in meat and fruit and vegetables whilst enjoying our plot and an outdoors lifestyle with our son. I am the luckiest person that I know.

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