I’d like to clear up a couple of points here before we get into the nitty gritty.
Firstly, I like having a garden. Grass is nice to lie on (but I don’t) and for kids to play on (which, weather wise, they don’t), and a well kept flower enhanced border is aesthetically pleasing, especially of an evening when some meats have been grilled to perfection on the barbecue, my belly is full and I’m sitting back with my chosen alcoholic beverage enjoying the sun (again, weather wise, thats unlikely). However, I like the idea all the same.
Secondly, I hate my hedge. Its a schizophrenic beast which is half soft downiness and half raging, twisted gnarliness. It gets out of control easily and the only way to calm it is to attack it with some electric shears which have seen much better days… about 5 years ago in fact.
It is with these two facts in mind, that I have today come to the conclusion that I don’t hate gardening, I hate destroying.
My jobs in terms of our garden are simple – I never grow; I only cut, trim, rip or churn. Kate does the gardening as she tends to the flowers and weeds (itself a form of garden genocide, but on a much smaller and “greater good” beneficial scale) but I only spring into action when the grass needs to be controlled or the hedges (damn those hedges) need to be taken down a peg or two.
Not like I’d want to swap or anything, because there is no chance that I have the patience or any sort of aptitude or skill to tend to a plant or a bush. The time I spend out in the garden, laying waste to seas of grass and slicing into complex horticultural structures, is growing however and that makes me sad. Exhausted as well (not to mention pained as another twig decides to fight back and scrape a deep trench into my arm) but painfully sad because I have to give up 4 hours or so at a time to do something that I don’t like, and don’t get paid for it.
No wait, that sounds selfish. What I meant to say was that one sixth of my weekend time awake is spent not creating but decimating. Thats not fun on so many levels.
So, I’m not a gardener, I’m a taker of lives in the Green.
I desperately want that to change but the only way I see that happening will involve a chainsaw, bricks and cement.