Look, things escalated - OK?

Yes, sorry for my absence yesterday but things escalated.  You see, yesterday was a slight, very slight, harbinger of Spring.  Not only was it slightly warmer but the wind dropped and the rain ceased altogether.  Given these remarkable conditions as I gazed through my double-glazing, I felt emboldened to go outside and try to sweep up the detritus that had gathered around my 'garden' in the past six months.  Not that I have anything against detritus, frankly I find it quite easy to love it especially when compared to the effort required to clear it!  However, there is another voice in this marriage - need I say more?

I have pointed out before that my 'garden' is more accurately described as a micro-garden.  For the benefit of my Texan commenter, Michael, I would guess that it is roughly 0.000000000000001% the size of Texas.  It is, therefor, all the more remarkable that so much crap can accumulate in such a tiny space.  Most of the space is taken up by a patio and if that puts you in mind of a long, spacious and elegant terrace - think again!  You can just about get three people on it providing one of them is standing!  Partly this the fault of the 'Head Gardener' who insists on a plethora of pots and tubs - all of which have to be moved around if cleaning is to take place.

Anyway, without a word of complaint - well, not audible, anyway, I wouldn't dare! -  I set to with broom and bin.  Alas, this uncovered the actual stones of the patio.  Now I have nothing against grey - no-one can accuse me of 'greyism' - but the 'Head Gardener', from the sanctuary of the conservatory, indicated that the patio needed power-washing.  I wasn't too downhearted because it is so many years since I last used my power-hose that I was fairly confident that it would never work.  Wrong again!  Needless to say, given my inherent Scottish miserliness, I only bought it because it was the cheapest at the Garden Centre and the damned thing still works perfectly.

All this is by way of explanation that I spent most of the day blasting away at those damned stone slabs and whilst some of the grey went, alas, so did most of the cement that that holds the stones in place, so now I have the prospect of spending God knows how long outside re-grouting - such fun!  Anyway, by the time I finished every joint in my body was twinging or twanging or sometime both.  Suffice to say that I lacked the strength to even contemplate pushing down keys on a keyboard, hence my absence yesterday.

Are you all feeling sorry for me?  Huh, thought not!

 

Comments

[Whitewall]

That gray David, is properly called patina. It is a mark of character and durability. You should never wash the patina away. Same for antique furniture. The value is often in the patina. As a matter of fact, I view the gray I have accumulated over the decades the same way--patina= character and charm. And I do so with a straight face.

[Whyaxye]

There are some splendid members of the traveller community who would gladly undertake such small manual tasks. They'll clean your gutters, too, and check your soffits and advise on any other small jobs that need doing in order to save you endless trouble later. If they think you are sufficiently old and frail, they'll thoughtfully accompany you to the cashpoint and tap in your PIN, too. They'll even do it repeatedly.

[Up2L8]

Whitewall;

I view the gray I have accumulated over the decades the same way--patina= character and charm. And I do so with a straight face.

Is that your subtle way of letting us know you are not bald? :-)

[Whitewall]

Whyaxye, these members seem quite thorough and thoughtful in their dealings with elderly people. Almost like a profession?

[Whitewall]

Uppers-
"Is that your subtle way of letting us know you are not bald? :-)" Why yes, yes it is. What hasn't turned loose turned grey...or silver if I need it to be:)

[backofanenvelope]

I have this problem with my concreted backyard. I use some stuff that farmers use in their milking parlours. Takes off all the grey (and green) off and burns holes in your clothes. Has the added advantage that it kills all plants lurking in pots.

[missred]

I call my gardens, front and back, the lower and upper forty. Forty square feet ;) I have often wanted to patio in the lower forty leaving just flower borders, but alas, being the droning dismal dreaming dewberry I am, it is still a goal.
This last summer I completely stripped my upper forty, laying new grass, new soil and mulch. I have yet to replace any plants. I realize it may have been an extreme reaction, but the noxious weed I have been trying to fight for at least 10 years finally broke my patience. It won the battle, but I think I am going to win the war.

[Michael F Adams]

I wonder whether Zoysia would grow in those interstices. It's very slow, but, within your actuarial lifetime could fill in all the cracks, be much prettier than grout or mortar, never be mown or moaned-over again. It's the schmoo of grasses, there to serve, and humbly, too. If you wanted to fill a lawn with it, even a very small lawn, you'd need to lay out as much money as grass, and still wouldn't get it to fill in. However, for your purpose, it would be lovely, IF it will grow there.The Chief Gardener would be enchanted, once she got over her shock at your having an idea.

[TheBigHenry]

David,

"... it is so many years since I last used my power-hose ..."

That wouldn't be the tool you'd use to make babies with all those women you admire?

[David Duff]

Michael, I had a quick look at zoysia but it looks as though it would not only fill in my cracks but in the end cover my entire patio including me!

Alas, Henry, 'power-hose' would not be an exact analogy, more like little sprinkler!

[Michael F Adams]

Well, it might, but again consulting the actuarial tables, you'll be covered with other sod long before then. It grows v-e-r-y slowly, and it grows in the cracks, not over the stones. It's worth a tiny experiment. It would look lovely, I predict, an over-all rustic effect. I'd mail you a couple of plugs, but our dept of Ag and yours, would have joint and collective conniption fits.Of course, the Devil in me says that that alone would make it worth the postage.