Life has been quietly routine here for the last few days.
The only excitement was a visit from Navanman [don’t ask me to explain who he is – it’s complicated]. Anyways he arrived lugging a large holdall.
Navanman has a thing about our estate. He loves it and loves working on it. In fact he barely knocks on the door before lacing into our bushes and trees, hacking off branches with chainsaws, bill-hooks and slashers or other mysterious rituals. Naturally I’m not going to object to his little pleasures and I just let him at it.
So I watched him unload the holdall. He donned a hazmat suit and a space helmet, did some incantations and rituals involving a large hypodermic, a bottle and lots of water over a large backpack sprayer and set to work covering the garden in spray.
Curiosity got the better of me. I went out and asked him what he was spraying. Weeds and brambles says he. At least I think that’s what he said as it was difficult to hear him through all the headgear and a sort of Darth Vader yoke over his mouth I told him that I could see that but what was he spraying? Good stuff he replied and went back to spraying a hedge. He was supremely happy with this little job and was still there spraying as the sun went down.
Yesterday I glanced out the window and noticed all the weeds on the terrace were looking like they were all suffering from Brewer’s Droop. They looked distinctly unhealthy. Happy days!
I haven’t dared walk the estate since. I’m just wondering what else is on the point of expiring. Whatever Navanman was spraying it was really powerful shit. Any day now the trees are going to start drooping [except maybe the Weeping Birch as it droops naturally. It will probably start growing upwards]. Is everything about to die? Am I going to be left with a plot looking like the Fields of Flanders?
However if Navanman is happy then I’m happy.