A very pretty garden

Behind my house there is a very pretty garden. Sounds like the opening sentence of a kids novel. We planned and nurtured this over our life here which is 44 years. At this time of year it is at its best and because of the weather conditions this year it is green and lush. I’m not taking any credit for this because I’m not really the gardener. I do the spade work. “dig hole there” etc the green finger bit is my editor in chief. The plan was that all year round we would have colour in the garden. Every year we add something which adds to the resulting outcome. It’s a nice place to spend your time. I’m rabbitting on a bit here but bear with me. The first week of my treatment cycle is always the worst. To claim you feel like s*** is a fair description. I managed to cut the grass before getting treatment but this morning I felt strong enough to get out there and cut it. A lovely day but towards the end I felt exhausted. If anything would upset me about getting old and being poorly it would be that I could not look after our garden. The thought of it getting overgrown and in disrepair is not an option I want to contemplate. I guess it’s a bit like many personal things hiring someone to do it; well they wouldn’t look after it like we do. So for the time being I might be a bit slower but behind my house there remains a very pretty garden.