Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss

The gardener

It all began when we had our end year visit from the gardener. Mr. Swiss and I have now reached the golden oldie age where we no longer climb ladders or bend to weed the garden beds when not necessary. I did succeed in planting some bulbs for the Spring show, but my back complained and so did my legs. The gardener, a young man, naturally did all the work in the flick of a hand with help from his apprentice. My lawn had a few bare patches resulting from the tropical drought days we had in Summer and he suggested to sew some grass seeds in a rejuvenation process.

“But the birds might eat them all before they start growing.”

“No problem, I will mix them with the top earth layer and birds do not like digging for their food. I will also scatter some seeds over the surface…

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