Have you noticed how it is with men?
You set out to do a job. For example, cutting back the really thick jungular growth in the back garden. You, the female (for argument's sake) is up a ladder, cutting the fronds that cover the roof of the outhouse. You call out to the male, "Could you hold the ladder, darling, because I'm about to pull, and I might go backwards!" The next thing you know, you're on the ground packing black bin liners and the male is up the ladder.
You realise that the male is happily cutting away. "Darling," you say. "It's best to bag up as you go. It's the short straw and we don't want to be doing all the bagging up at the end."
Later still, you're out the front. "Sweetheart," says the male. "We need to cut that dog rose right back."
"We'll uproot it," says the female.
"We'll never be able to do that," says the male.
The female gets on with it. 
The male expresses surprise at how the good the spade and fork are. The female points out that she is a Cheshire girl, plus she lived in the house for nearly five years before meeting said male. When she sees garden tools advertised as ergonomic, she buys.
Later still, the female carefully explains to the male. "If you take the time to put small bundles of greenery into the bag, it's quicker than trying to put an enormous load in all at once."
This rant is obviously not about any man in particular and very much about all men in general.
Do not underestimate the gardening strength of the middle-age, middle-class
female.
And, also, the male does gardening in the $10 slip on sandals he bought in Cuba, when his big toe swelled up. The female does it in the lovely lovely lovely £80 Berghaus walking shoes she bought yeterday in Blacks and she wants to break in before holiday.
Furthermore, people pay a fortune to go to a gym to do less exercise, in less pleasant surroundings, than what I did today. A bit more of this (actually, a lot needs doing...!) and I will be back to my fighting weight. So watch out!
