A Thorn in My Side

Actually it's in the side of my thumb. And it hurts. A lot. I woke early this morning and all I could feel was my thumb throbbing. Why is it that something like that has the power to cause your whole body to focus in on one teeny tiny spot?

Yesterday I helped DH prune our roses and rosemary and lavender bushes. An awful job. And one that I promised to do. You know how it goes: "You can have XYZ only if you promise to look after it." Well, "you" is usually the kids and "XYZ" is usually an animal, but this time "you" was me and "XYZ" was roses.

You see, DH hates roses. Well to be exact, he hates pruning roses. He readily admits that he doesn't understand their needs and that he doesn't want to be responsible for them.

Enter Jules who loves them and wants a garden filled with them and agrees to care for them. Until the time comes to prune them and she has absolutely no idea what to do. Like the knight in shining armour that he is, DH rescues me and takes charge. Phew!

The things we do for love. Because I'm convinced that it's only because he loves me that DH agreed to prune the roses yesterday. And he's out there now finishing the job.

When we moved into our house there was a swimming pool where our rose garden now is. It was one of those above ground swimming pools, except that the previous owners had set it deep into the ground so only about 30cm (12") was above ground. It was dangerous - especially since our youngest was just 2 years old at the time and could have easily stepped straight into it. We pulled it out and filled in the hole with several loads of sand.

A short time later I fell in love with a weeping cherry tree and planted it in the centre of what had been our swimming pool. Then I surrounded it with lavenders and there they grew quite happily for several years.

Then came the day when we decided to rejuvenate the area and drew up plans for brick paths and circular garden beds. We even started digging the paths. Then we had a phone call from our neighbour. Our water pipe which until that moment we had no idea ran under his garage had burst and was flooding his garage. We had to replace the pipe and to do so ended up having to dig trenches through our garden.

And that's how it stayed. For years. It looked like a war zone with its criss-crossing trenches and overgrown garden.

Then a miracle happened: we drew up new plans; DH and Sons moved the weeping cherry tree and replanted it; they filled in the trenches and dug new ones; they started laying brick paths and planting grass seed. Now it's a place to be enjoyed. Except for those times when those demanding rose bushes need pruning.