Our garden is getting a makeover, courtesy of my husband's hard work and the discovery that our baby is willing to sit and watch paint dry. Until recently my husband had to dash out to the garden as soon as the baby napped if he wanted to squeeze in a bit of gardening and DIY at weekends. But recently we discovered that, bundled up in the absurdly warm all-in-one pramsuit (seriously, it's like clothing for the North Pole and suitably shaped like a baby polar bear, with ears on the hood) and sitting in a bouncy chair on the garden path, our baby enjoys watching us at work.
First up he watched me pruning our two rose bushes and four fruit bushes in the front garden. I chatted away and he seemed quite interested. Next my husband started painting the garden fence panels, turning them from rather weathered grey wood to a new-looking brown. The baby is willing to watch one fence panel being painted at a time, about twenty minutes, before beginning to wriggle about and want to do something else. He also stared curiously at a large hole being dug for a new bush in at the bottom end of the garden. My husband has fond hopes, in a few years, of telling him that there's treasure buried somewhere 'in that bed that needs digging' - I temper this with recollections of my own childhood where various children, over several summers, enthusiastically 'dug for Australia', creating a fair-sized duck pond rather than a neatly dug-over vegetable bed.
Still, we'd like a pond in the garden as well so maybe one day....
First up he watched me pruning our two rose bushes and four fruit bushes in the front garden. I chatted away and he seemed quite interested. Next my husband started painting the garden fence panels, turning them from rather weathered grey wood to a new-looking brown. The baby is willing to watch one fence panel being painted at a time, about twenty minutes, before beginning to wriggle about and want to do something else. He also stared curiously at a large hole being dug for a new bush in at the bottom end of the garden. My husband has fond hopes, in a few years, of telling him that there's treasure buried somewhere 'in that bed that needs digging' - I temper this with recollections of my own childhood where various children, over several summers, enthusiastically 'dug for Australia', creating a fair-sized duck pond rather than a neatly dug-over vegetable bed.
Still, we'd like a pond in the garden as well so maybe one day....
No comments:
Post a Comment