The Idiot Gardener

WARNING: This site contains information on gardening, brewing, curing meat,

building shit and hunting, all done in a piss-poor manner. It is not suitable for the

feeble-minded, the weak and lame, those of a nervous disposition, vegans and

vegetarians (and those other ones that only eat fish and the occasional bacon

sandwich - I think they're called 'hypocrites'), those who practice any

manner of folk singing or dancing, people named Colin or fans of Barry Gibb.

Bloody hell Barry, he’s only gone and bleeding done it…

By the spirit of Barry Gibb, I’ve only gone and bleeding done it.

An offer has been made on Smallholding B.

There followed some shilly-shallying.

I used a rude word to describe an Estate Agent.

The offer was accepted.

A solicitor has taken a bag of gold from me.

A conman is coming to do an EPC check.

Funding is in place.

I am going to buy a gun.

To not tempt fate, I shall say no more on the matter until the 5 acres, the barn, the house, the pond and the kennels are mine.

I am slightly shitting myself.

As if a sign, before writing this I went to pour a pint of Dirty Chimp from the keg. Halfway through it ran out.

I have two packets of home made bacon to my name.

I am virtually homeless.

It is time…

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