I feel the earth move…

There really is no better sight than a man on a digger, doing a year’s worth of hard spade slog in a single afternoon. (Single green-thumbed ladies: I highly recommend you start hanging out at new subdivisions, building sites, roading developments and anywhere else earthworks are required. A man who can operate heavy machinery, especially while dressed in a reflectorised vest that’s fashionably colour-coordinated with his excavator, is very useful indeed.) 
This is where our new lawn is going. It will be a formal, slightly sunken lawn edged with a low wall of recycled kerbing stones (the Hunk brought them home from work too) and it’s going to look magnificent surrounded by a meadow of wildflowers. That’s if it ever stops raining for long enough for me to spray the old grass off around the edges so I can start sowing. Is there any such thing as a pagan sun-dance?

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