I cannot remember a year when the grass has been so dry in the Autumn. Normally I’m desperately searching for a suitable day when the grass is dry enough to cut, or at least ‘less wet’, and I usually have to wait until after dinner.

This year that hasn’t been a problem. Even before dinner the grass was bone dry so I was able to get cracking at about 9.45am and finished easily by lunchtime.

That gave me the chance to get the Flymo out in the afternoon and put some ‘neat’ on it. I’ll have the Flymo out again before I call it a day, but the big mower is cleaned and put away for the winter.

Job done.

My dad, bless him, went to great lengths to make me the most amazing costume, which was basically a ‘shell’ made of some pliable cane things covered in red and black crepe paper. Attached with black tape over a black jumper and leggings, the whole ensemble was topped off with an alice band (remember those?) wrapped in black paper with 2 black feelers attached.

However, I digress.

If ever a nursery rhyme was fanciful then this surely is it. Why a creature, blessed with the gift of self-propelled flight, refuses to do so in the most dire circumstances I have no idea. Remember the ladybird in the Lurpak?

Today I cut the grass with the big mower. By the time I’d been round the trees in the field both me and the mower were covered in ladybirds. Did they make any attempt to remove themselves from this alien environment? No. They just hitched a lift on me and my machine. Round and round we all went together.

Then there were the ones sitting  in the grass I’m trying to cut. Do they move as I approach? Try to get out of the way? Fly away home? No of course they don’t.

I hate killing anything, anytime, and try to avoid them if possible, but mowing is hard enough without having to steer round ladybirds. To be honest, I think if I just go over them with the blade they probably drop into the grass out of harms way. I’m not so sure that applies if I actually run over them with a wheel.

Why don’t they fly away??!!

There are lots of them about this summer, and I certainly have seen more actually flying than in previous years, but for some reason most of them prefer to walk.

Here is a picture I found that I rather like. He seems to be hitching a lift on a passing seed from a dandelion clock or something similar.

I started first thing by collecting the twigs from yesterday. We’d been shopping and when we got back Peter decided to have his first go this year at licking the arch into shape. I can’t collect the twigs as we go along like with the hedge, because I have to hold the ladder. It was teatime by the time we finished, so the twigs got left until today.

Still needs work but we’re getting there.

Then I re-dug the potato bed to retrieve any stragglers that I’d missed the other day. Needless to say there were plenty. Then I dug up my shallots, and pulled out a few big weeds. My final job before dinner was to pull out my cauliflowers which have been a disaster. I’m just going to have to accept the fact, I can’t grow caulis.

After dinner I got the big mower out and mowed the field. Tomorrow I intend to neaten the twiddly bits with the Flymo. Busy, busy!!

This years lawn mower problems have been well documented, so I started early in the morning (7.15am) and put the mower on charge. I was surprised to find it had charged itself by late morning, so went out to start cutting. Mower wouldn’t start.

Put it back on charge, it was done again in 10 minutes. We have been here before, last time it started, this time it didn’t. Back on charge it went.

To cut a long story short, this was how we spent the next few hours, but each time it wouldn’t start. By about 2pm, we’d given up and decided to call on my neighbour, the mower man.

He said it sounded like the battery was done, and offered to come across with his box of tricks, which would at least get the mower started this time. A couple of minutes later his diagnosis was confirmed. He’s going to get me a new battery. In the meantime he got the mower going with his ‘jump kit’, so at around 3pm I started cutting the grass.

I’ve discovered in these last few weeks how we take things for granted. You don’t realise how much you rely on both arms, until one of them is taken away. And so it is with mowing.

Steering in a straight line was easy with my left hand, but manoevering around obstacles was a bit tricky. However, the hardest thing was going around the big over-hanging trees. What I hadn’t realised was how in this situation, I use one arm to steer and the other to protect my face from the lowest branches.

Needless to say I looked like a haystack when I’d finished, and it wasn’t the neatest job I’ve ever done, but to be honest I was just glad to have done it at all. I felt I was in danger of putting my eye out or knocking myself off the mower altogether without the protection of an arm fending off the foliage.

Still at least I know I can do it. Now all I need to do is fathom out how to get dressed without having to step into everything and pull it up!!

I wrote some time ago about how the big mower wouldn’t start after being laid up for the winter. We charged the battery, but then it wouldn’t start again when we got it out for it’s second outing of the year.

So earlier this week when I decided to cut the grass I wasn’t surprised when it wouldn’t start for the third time. I  put it on charge, and based on the 7 hour charge time from the previous incident was hopeful of getting the grass cut after tea.

Sadly the weather had a different idea. At teatime, about 5 hours into the process the heavens opened so I had to disconnect it and put it away.

The following morning I was up early and plugged it in again around 8am. I thought it might have another couple of hours to go, then I’d be able to get cracking.

Sure enough by 10am it had finished charging. I jumped on, turned the key and – - – - nothing. So I plugged it back in.

To my surprise it was telling me after 10 minutes that it was done. Yeah right! I jumped on again turned the key and to my absolute amazement and delight it started, so I cut the grass before lunch.

What is that all about then?

A few days ago I was clearing out the conservatory as my plants and seedlings are gradually going outside, and I’m turning my attention to gro-bags and tomatoes.

Amongst the things I moved were the Flymo electric hover mower and an old cast iron mower that we bought in an auction for £1 as a garden ornament.

Imagine my surprise when under each mower I found a small stash of cat biscuits and sunflower seeds. Someone had obviously been using the mowers as a larder for their winter supplies.

But imagine my greater surprise when earlier today I got the big mower out of the garage to find that a large area of it’s black, plastic seat had been eaten away.

You must have to be very, very hungry to eat black plastic, unless of course it was being used for bedding material, either way it’s a mess.

Incidentally, the mower wouldn’t start, we’re not sure why. So in a vain attempt to get  it going the battery is currently (excuse th pun) on charge. If that doesn’t cure it I’ll be off to see my friend across the road, clutching a bottle of wine!

The day started quite well. The hedge trimming gang turned up as promised, finished the job off, and cleared up pretty well given the size of the task.

I got the mower out after lunch, but it wouldn’t start as the ignition just twisted round in the ‘dashboard’ as I turned the key. No sign of life.

Fortunately this has happened before and Peter was soon able to fix it by meddling around in the engine and tightening the ignition switch from behind the bulkhead. I think it’s just a quirk of our machine, so that was soon sorted.

I started mowing and things were going well, until the cover on the cutting deck fell off. Once again this has happened before, but this time the little clip that is supposed to hold it in place was nowhere to be seen.

We searched the grass in the surrounding area, but talk about a needle in a haystack!

Peter to the rescue once again. He mended it with the metal bit of a spare keyring, in place of the missing clip.

The rest of the mowing was uneventful, but very slow due to the mole hills that are EVERYWHERE.

It started quite badly with a harsh winter, late Spring and family bereavement. Then when the weather did finally get going I didn’t, but when I did, things just didn’t work out.

First there was a late frost. Initially I thought my strawberry plants had survived, until my neighbour pointed out the black centre to all my flowers. I did try pulling the flowers off so new ones could be produced, but it didn’t work. Result, no strawberries.

The wood pigeons attacked my peas without mercy. What they didn’t destroy from the top, the mole did from below. Result, hardly any peas.

Then there was the sweetcorn, or perhaps I should say, then there wasn’t the sweetcorn. The plants grew OK, but some had tassels and no beards some had beards and no tassels. What’s that about? Result hardly any sweetcorn.

Whilst some of the veg have been a disaster, the flowers haven’t been brilliant either. It’s been so dry. One particular disappointment was my ‘Morning Glory’ (Skylark Mixed).

I’ve always wanted one, and so this year I sowed some seeds. I got 3 plants, which, according to the packet should have grown to 10 feet high and 2 feet across. Bearing their potential size in mind I was careful where I planted them, sat back and waited to be stunned with their blue and white flowers

What a disappointment. Each one turned into a  spindly plant hardly 3 feet high. The flowers were lovely but too few and far between.

Then there was the lawn mower, the big ride-on one. It hasn’t worked properly since 13th June. In the beginning this didn’t matter much as it was so dry the grass wasn’t growing. Needless to say that can’t go on indefinitely in England, and it didn’t.

Consequently the grass in the field is a patchwork of lengths as I’ve had to resort to the electric Flymo to stop it getting completely out of hand, but I’m not fit enough to do it all in one go by that method. The ride-on mower is  in the process of being mended as we speak. New drive belt, new belt for the cutting deck.

Having said that, what does cutting the grass matter when the mole is covering the entire area in mole hills. They are bad enough but it’s the hidden depressions that nearly break your ankle that are the real pain.

He’s everywhere this year. He’s even sent a mole hill up between the stone slabs on the patio. How does he do that?

Finally there is the pub hedge which runs along one side of the garden. It is leylandii and hasn’t been cut for several years, needless to say it is very tall. So tall in fact that I have completely ignored that part of the garden this year.

The pub has been empty for months, in fact it hasn’t really been running properly for years. To cut a long story short we contacted the brewery, Scottish and Newcastle, to get it sorted.

After some time a very nice chap called to say his team would be coming to do the job in 3-4 weeks time. That was on 22nd June, no sign of anyone since.

As it happens the pub was let later that week and we think the brewery have passed the job, not to say the expense, on to the new tennant, who has  probably  been horrified at the potential cost and put it on the bottom of their ‘to do’ list. Result, hedge still out of control.

We did manage to cut our hedges for another year. The garden always looks so much better when they’ve been done. Now the whole world can see my mole hills!

I know all of this isn’t the end of the world, and that there are a lot of people in much worse circumstances, but nevertheless, gardening for me this year has been a pain, not a pleasure.

The ride on mower takes care of the big open spaces, the electric Flymo takes care of the bits the big mower can’t reach, and hopefully the newly acquired strimmer will take care of the bits the Flymo can’t reach.

Ideally these processes need to be done close together to achieve the best visual results, known here as ‘full parkality’. Threeconsecutive days are best. Needless to say full parkality doesn’t happen too often, as the weather or something else usually steps in to disrupt my plans, and of course the grass I’ve cut doesn’t stop growing just because I’m delayed in doing the rest.

Anyway, today I made a start by cutting the field, lawn and verge with the big mower, and running the Flymo round most of the trees and along the edge of the verge. It looks OK as far as it goes, but there is so much more still to do.

I just hope I’ve got the energy left to finish off the bits that still need cutting, and then I’ll be giving the new strimmer it’s first proper outing.

Cutting the grass on the big mower is quite a peasant job, particularly on a nice day, but because I’ve had so many mishaps with mowers in the past, there’s always an air of tension until the job is done. Neither Peter or I are mechanics, and there’s nothing worse than a broken mower when there’s grass to be cut.

Fortunately the chap who lives across the road is a mechanic, and by coincidence has a mower exactly like ours. So a couple of years ago I plucked up the courage to ask him if he’d mend ours when it went wrong. He was happy to do so, and has come to my rescue several times since, all for the price of a bottle of wine.

It’s a great improvement on getting it fixed by the company we bought it from, but I still feel awkward asking him, that’s why the air of tension remains. Sad aren’t I?

Driving round the field in the sunshine made me remember why I love living here so much and also why I love gardening.

The sky was blue, the clouds were fluffy and white. The lawn looked neat and tidy after Tuesday’s cut and Wednesday’s stepping stones. The birds were singing.

The conservatory is full of tiny peas and broad beans which are just germinating. Then there are the leeks, cauliflowers and red onions from a few weeks ago. I also noticed a couple of green shoots on my shallots. Everything is beginning to spring into life.

The hedges are still neat and tidy after Autumns trim, and the daffodils, primroses and narcissus are flowering. From a distance the garden looks an absolute picture. On a day like today there isn’t anywhere in the world I would rather be.