Dear new diary,

I'm sorry I haven't written anything since the last post, but I've been having an almighty battle with the tangled mass of vegetation that is known as my garden.
Even with the help of friends (they work for the promise of food bless'em) there is still a long way to go to get it looking like a normal garden and not somewhere you might say 'Dr Livingstone I presume?'.
I've been wrenching Ivy away from walls, and pulling up so many weeds that I now have a compost heap that can possibly be seen from space. I have discovered plants that I cannot find in any gardening books, and am starting to watch the skies and check for strange pods on the embankment.
I've been scratched, bitten, stung, and bruised, have lost 3 pairs of gardening gloves and managed to ruin a perfectly good pair of shorts during an altercation with a rose bush.
Despite what anybody says, I don't believe that gardening is relaxing.
Anybody got a flame thrower and 8 tons of concrete they don't want?

ttfn,

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