I’ve never been one for gardening, the extent of my green fingered interests lying mostly with occasionally mowing the lawn and popping to the tip to throw away all the dead plants Mrs Afterwards bought in an attempt to brighten up the back way.
About 2 weeks before lockdown we started a building project, a cellar conversion is underway with a new entrance meaning the builders had to dig our where previously I was cultivated a lovely collection of weeds, hosepipes and rusting bicycles. As they dug out for the steps and the new door they discovered a mass of old stone which seemed to have been used as backfill when the house was built in 1906. Driven, I think, by my love of cutting corners and looking for shortcuts I insisted that they not worry about moving it but to leave it and I would instead build a rockery.
I then went away to research rockeries.
Anyway, long and not particularly interesting story short, Ive spend the past many weeks putting together what I think passes as one (who knows how long has passed – we are, as you know, in lockdown time and that doesn’t move like real time) . Something I am sure will be proven by bearded scientists in years to come in an attempt to explain just how it was possible that people got so fat during quarantine when they swear they went for a long walk everyday and ate lots of salad.
There was membrane laying. rock piling, soil carting, plant planting, fountain fitting, light fitting and pebble placing. The photos below show my progress.
I would note that as pretty as I think it looks, I am currently having some problems with finding it all a little creepy and unnerving. The plants (I just went for alpines and succulents) are spreading at a phenomenal rate. The succulents doubled in size in a week and I swear to Jeebus they sing this sweet little song when I look at them but I know that they want to lay spores inside my orifices and control me and make me do their bidding.
Fuck them! Might just lay a patio.