Yesterday was glorious so I spent it digging. Well part of it. I also spent part of it bouncing around on our new trampoline with my 3 year old. The Brecon Beacons looked glorious, the sun shone on our faces, and the couch grass did not give up without a struggle. Everything I read about this weed/scourge is bad. It breaks up and can regrow from small roots, tufts, whatever. And I have a roughly 75 square metre patch or should that be field full of the stuff. And when it isn't just (ha!) couch grass, it's mixed in with a healthy dose of mint gone mad, sorrel and St John's Wort. Oh and did I mention the rocks. A 1.5 metre square section (to form vaguely raised beds I hope) yields several wheelbarrow loads.
So today I am nursing sore shoulders and last night I was absolutely shattered. And I have still only dug over two and a bit beds, leaving bits of couch grass that I shall hunt for later once I've removed the last of the stones.
Tomorrow's job, whatever the weather (and boy did it chuck it down today), is to plant my single blackcurrant (Ben Connan) and my single gooseberry (Greenfinch) which arrived in the post today.
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