What do you reckon, thistle breath?

When we bought the farm we inherited a vegie patch, complete with a nice high wallaby-proof fence, watering system, weed barrier underneath the entire lot, 4 raised beds with gravel paths between and raspberrie stalks or whatever they're called. In fact, its probably the only thing around here which had been done to a decent standard. So far all we've grown in the vegie patch is weeds cause we aren't keen gardeners.

Wayne did get all excited at once stage and weeded, then turned the soil in one and a half beds, adding some of the lamb poop rich soil from under the shearing shed in the last few weeks. I promised I'd get out there and take care of 2 of them myself to help, but mainly so I can try growing strawberries.

Note: I'm not a gardener. In my world plants either live or die. I try but I manage to kill about 3/4 of all plants I put in the ground. Even some in pots! The perfect plant for me is a 'Zefi-Proof' plant. In fact, it'd be really handy if that was written on labels, it would sure save me tons of time and money!

However, hope springs eternal, so I'm always buying pretty plants in the hopes that this one might survive.

Gotta give it to me for optimism.

So, yesterday when we got home at a reasonable hour (no meetings or training after work, YEAH!) we let Wally into the yard and sat there chilling out over a cup of coffee. Ah, thats the life. Good for the soul. Anyway, as we sat there I looked over the vegie patch and for some inexplicable reason I actually got up and pulled out a few weeds.

One thing led to another and before I knew it I was halfway through one bed! I'd even removed my too big gloves and was getting my hands dirty! Every time I pulled out a thistle, Wally was there to help.

Since I'd done half a bed I figured, heck, may as well keep going. So I did a bit more.

Wayne came along, leaned over the fence and warned me I'd be sore tomorrow. I noted I was sore already but I only had a bit more to go, I hate leaving things unfinished. (Which is why I don't START them!) He then stood there and instructed me as to how to pull up weeds properly. I gave him the look he made himself scarce. However, not before telling me to move the rake cause I'd step on it and hit myself in the head with it.

I said I hadn't moved it, it was where he'd left it. No, he said. He'd never leave it there. And besides, I said, stepping on the rake and hitting myself in the head would be his trick, not mine.

Well, he went off to play with Wally or whatever and I kept plugging away at the weeds. Soon I was done and Wayne came in to inspect my work... and

WHACK!

He stepped on the rake and hit himself square in the @ss!

Some days its like a comedy show around here, I tell ya!

Anyway, Wayne was right about one thing. I was sore this morning. I woke up and as I struggled to get myself out of bed I pondered the wisdom of starting to ride again at my age...

I dragged myself into the kitchen where Wayne was already drinking his coffee and he looked at me sagely. 'Thistle back', he said.

Best thing for it is to pull out more weeds!

z