I’m not wild on the unkempt lawn look

UNTIL recently the word ‘gardening’ did not exist in my dictionary; it was an activity for other people. But then came lockdown and working from home and, like a lot of folk, the patch of grass at the back took on new significance.

Now I can’t walk past a plant display without buying something green. I recently bought a ‘how to’ book by Alan Titchmarsh and terracotta pots are like catnip to me.

The lawn, however, remains the domain – begrudgingly – of my other half, who is slightly less committed in the green-fingered department than I. Or it was. Gazing out of the kitchen window the other day I couldn’t help but notice the grass was so tall, small children could hide in it. “It’s No-Mow May,” came the explanation – a drive to encourage bees and insects apparently.

That doesn’t explain anything-toavoid-it April or the forthcoming just-can’t-be-bothered June, though.

I’m all for rewilding but I want my washing hanging above something resembling Centre Court, not an abandoned quarry. Either I need to learn the intricacies of the mower or I have to invest in a goat.