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.

Spanking the arse of neglect!

Way back when, in the mists of time, Hill 49 stood as a symbol of laziness. It was like a carbuncle on the buttock of good intentions, and those who have been reading this drivel for a while will remember that I showed my dedication to the gardening thing by battling Hill 49, until it was no more. For those who don’t know, Hill 49 was created by me shifting dirt I dug out of footings for a shed. Where Hill 49 stood used to be a Koi pond (not mine, but the bloke who I bought the house off – I only see fish as food), which I filled, before heaping more dirt on top.

Hill 49 was like this during the process of clearance…


…and I turned it into this!


Of course, having done 90 per cent of the work, I neglected the rest. The fact that the ground was seriously uneven made me regret ever having gone near it, and since then it has stood as a monument of one man’s neglect towards his garden.

The constant pissing down of rain has somewhat ruined the 2012 growing season, so I siezed the opportunity to well and truly give the arse of neglect a bloody good spanking. Oh yes I did! Look behind you! Boo! Hiss! Etc..

Last friday morning, I arose from my bed, took a day off work, showered, ate a large bacon sandwich, and headed out to face the results of my neglect.




The first job was to clear the space and level the ground (well, get it sort of level). I set about my task, and on the first day of sunshine and heat this summer, I toiled like a bloke filled with bacon has never toiled before, until I had done this…


Now, it might not look too impressive, but the contents of that 6 yard skip are purely soil and rocks that I dug out with my own now somewhat blistered hands!

The space that I cleared will allow the completion of the madness that is my greenhouse project, plus a space for rhubarb and raspberries!

This is my canvas…


The eagle-eyed amongst you will spot that I forgot to take a picture of the clear space before putting the door frame of the greenhouse up. I shall go into more detail about that during a greenhouse-related update very soon.

Oh yeah, it’s still sunny. Go figure!

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9 thoughts on “Spanking the arse of neglect!

  1. Andrea

    I had my whole mouth almost reaching my ears in smiling with how you weave your words. I really love the way you said it, most especially the ‘monument of laziness’. I might use it too sometime. But that outcome is really lovely, i am sure it will be teeming with life in a little while.

  2. The Idiot Gardener

    John, in my mind the arse of neglect is always bare!

    Hippo, listen, let me explain, if I was allowed to kill my neighbour for crimes against fencing taste, there’d be a For Sale sign put up by his grieving family!

    GoSS: yes, sunshine! I had to Google it when it first appeared. I thought my eyes had gone funny.

    Andrea, I hope it will be teeming with life. My new mantra is “Finish the job, you lazy basatrd!”

    Trailshome, they’re tomatoes. That bed is an integral part of the greenhouse. I needed to put the plants somewhere as I was running out of room, so I built the bed, and now am building the rest of the greenhouse around the tomatoes! That’s what you get when your only plan is to stop for a beer!

  3. Brigitta Huegel

    Dear IG,
    ha, that is a very well-known sentence to me: “Of course, having done 90 per cent of the work, I neglected the rest.” Strange, isn’t it? Maybe we over-achievers shun the perfect – fearing then there won’t be anything more to do.
    You really worked hard – and a second conservatory might be a great investment, if ‘summers’ remain like this one… Though at the moment: 32°C in Berlin – no complaining.

  4. Hippo

    So the bedsteads aren’t yours after all? Somehow I could not reconcile them with the obvious taste demonstrated with your bathroom.

    Taste here in Angola is subjective to say the least. Bling is definitely in. The other day Marcia pitched up in a new outfit and asked me what I thought. It looked as though someone had painstakingly woven shiny aluminium thread through an otherwise acceptable outfit and then, still dissatisfied with comprehensively ruining a perfectly good ensemble, threw a load of glitter over it.

    ‘It is breathtaking Darling’ I said, confident in the knowledge that irony is lost on Angolans.


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