In my imagination, my ideal home has a perfect garden as well. Maybe with a pond and with roses growing and a little wishing well at the bottom. But in reality, I kill every single plant that I come into contact with.

My friend spent three months growing me sunflowers as a present. How lovely!  I killed them in less than a week. I just don’t do well with gardening. So why do I want a garden?

Well, I like the idea, but not necessarily the execution. And I get hayfever too. All that work and all that sneezing is a silly idea.

Gardens are hard work. Even though the really pretty ones always look easy to maintain, they’re not. And unless you’re going to get a handsome gardener in (they’re rarely handsome, by the way) then you’re going to have to put in some work.

Unfortunately, the novelty of having a garden if you’re not green-fingered wears off after about …  two weeks. Usually after it rains and ruins your bank holiday BBQ plans.

By the time you’ve decided on a house, bought some gardening books and unpacked, you’re bored of the garden and want to do something else instead.  Like go to the park where it’s a bit like a garden, but someone else has made it pretty.

Roses and daises are all well and good, but once you’ve got a garden, you’re stuck with it. There’s a reason so many people patio over half of them. They’re just too much work.

Even mowing the lawn looks really, really dangerous with all of those electric cables and choppy blades.

So before you spend your cash on somewhere with some outside greenery, have a bit of a think about how green fingered you really are, because that grass doesn’t stop growing just because you’re bored.

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 4th, 2009 at 3:48 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.