One of the simple pleasures in life. Other Half finally gave into my nagging and acquired a hosepipe (cue - hosepipe ban). He has been taking responsibility.
On Sunday, I persuaded my mother not only that her garden needed watering but that, also, I was the person to do it. She was all for me filling and refilling the watering can from the water butt. She's good like that, my mother, she invented reduce/reuse before anyone else had ever heard of recycle. (Note to Joseph, Eleanor and Ben: Grandma is cool!)
But I thought 'sod that for a game of soldiers'. After about ten refillings, I was sweaty and knackered and the garden, not enormous, was barely touched.
So I insisted on the hosepipe. It made me feel quite manly, in a girly sort of way.
What a difference it makes! The very flowers leap into action, revived, they sing "Thank you Gert!". The temperature falls, the air freshens.
I finally persuaded Significant Other to let me do our garden. Twenty minutes I stood there saturating our gorgeous but small cottage garden (note to Eleanor - our garden is beautiful, full of flowers...).
It is one of the gorgeous, simple pleasures that makes life worthwhile.
