Somewhere under the Gatwick flight path

Well.... we've finally hit our Southern stride (which, I admit sounds like some Country and Western dance move, but fear not, while I have brought you the foibles of a Morris Man, I'm not about to declaim on the joys of boot scootin).Fereday is employed (big cheer)!!!! He's now working out at a beautiful garden centre near Cobham which has a very nice vibe - I was even invited out on the Saturday before he started to meet the team and see the lay of the land.... which I thought was a really nice touch, though (being me) I did wonder if this was a polite way of checking out whether the missus was a nutter. I just about restrained myself from running around the plant aisles shouting 'Oklahoma, Oklahoma, Oklahoma' in a tribute to Steve Martin's character in Dirty, Rotten Scoundrels, so job safe and Fereday pootles over to the leafy greens of 'Expat-shire' every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday to tend to a brood of planties. I think I can take some credit for his success - years of living with me and spending time with my family means he speaks fluent 'American', and the centre is an area heavily infiltrated by the expat community. And he's as bouncingly happy about his job as a slug on a cabbage which has just discovered its cabbage comes with extra cabbage as a free side order. I don't think anything could tempt him back to running his own business any time soon - 'Oy, soft lad - fancy swapping the fabulous plant stock, having people to talk to every day, onsite loos, kitchen, and being under cover for lugging a mower around in the back of a Volvo and not seeing anyone for days on end???' Yeah, like that's gonna be a goer... . Seriously, it's nice to come home to find him full of tales of his day, and not starving for human contact (the house rabbits aren't big on dialectic, it seems).For me, work continues unabated, which is what you should probably expect when you move 400 miles to be in line of sight of the boss and the boss's boss.... and the boss's boss's boss.... Still, it's good 'sexy' stuff, not dross, so I'm happy if a bit tired out (and that's not a euphemism in the 'tired and emotional' vein!). Don't get me wrong, I love being busy.... but if I don't get my hair cut soon, well, suffice to say that I am looking more and more like an unkempt mushroom... and this really isn't okay in the City unless you're one of those 25 year old courier nutters pelting along streets and pavements on your bicycle acting on your fetish for becoming a hood ornament for a London taxi (still, it's good to have an aim in life).Commuting is like being in an army - over London Bridge, everyone in shoes which don't match their outfit (and which don't cripple them.... though I've decided to refrain from a little girly pair of flats - I just notice that it tends to be my 'less svelt' sisters prefering this type of footwear and I really don't want to look like another frustrated ballerina).... company badge worn round neck in lieu of the dog tag.... tardis backpacks capacious enough to hold supplies for a week in the desert..... in-ear headphones connected to Blackberrys and i-Pods.... everyone marches to their own tune in the commuting army..... we'd be no use whatsoever in a structured manoeuvre more complicated than avoiding anyone handing out flyers for dodgy disco nights or over-powering anyone handing out anything for free (and I mean anything - I've seen a bald bloke take a mini-sample of hair spray!).So, Fereday works on a Saturday which means I have a 'me' day - hopefully, I can get my hair cut today as I don't have too much work to catch-up on and I should be able to scoot the hoover over the worst of the detritus about 15 minutes before Fereday gets home (hmmm... that may not work with last night's dishes.... but we'll see...). This evening we are planting up some bulbs and tubers for the little courtyard area; tomorrow we'll be doing the ground work for the sprucing up the courtyard, including scrubbing down the paving - joy, not! So, look out for my first project photos being uploaded soon (though given my slackness in posting.... I guess I should say look forward to a Christmas slideshow!!!)

After 26 years at Radley College, Adam King has seen grounds management evolve dramatically. Weather patterns have become less predictable, playing surfaces are under greater pressure than ever, and flexibility has become one of the most valuable…

GroundsFest has welcomed Christina Walker to its sales team as preparations continue for the 2027 exhibition.Christina joins the award-winning team with an extensive background in publishing and exhibitions spanning more than two decades. She began…

When freezing temperatures threaten the pitches at Forest Green Rovers FC, speed is everything. Protecting the stadium and training ground with frost covers can be a race against the weather, but thanks to Kress battery-powered blowers, the club's…

Comments

Fenlandphil April 24, 2010 at 12:36pm

What beautiful evocative writing, particularly enjoyed "everyone marches to their own tune in the commuting army"..... you have a real talent.
seriousgardener
Cat Fereday April 24, 2010 at 2:30pm

Well thanks Fenlandphil!
Pip Howard April 25, 2010 at 8:57pm

Weekend working, hot and bothered, slowly relaxing and so glad to see a new blog from yourself. Looking like a mushroom doesn't sound so bad, I tend to look more like a mangy rockhopper penguin when my locks don't see the scissors for a bit.