Monday, 13 July 2009

I'll help you!

With boundless enthusiasm I charged after Hubs/HG (Head gardener) as he marched off down to the river with the watering cans to do the nightly watering of the many fruit trees he had planted round the border of the back field.

And it is mighty task indeed. Splash. Into the river he has to go to fill the watering cans, then he has to haul them back up the bank and then walk round to the trees. Each one has a full can. Thirteen trees. Thirteen cans of water. Plus a couple of cans for the veg plot out back.

So, I thought that I would be of help. But: we only have two watering cans. So: a bit of a prob.

And then a thought popped into my mind: the caravan water containers were no longer used mostly because we couldn't be bothered to keep filling them up, it seeming a lot easier to commute over to the water tap with a water bottle and fill that up instead. One was sitting idle, so it was gone and got by moi, aka UG. (Under gardener)
Brill idea!!!

OK, so it proved to be a tad unwieldy as it poyoinyed over the field behind me, but I felt a truly intrepid smallholder-type apprentice as I approached the river bank. It's not tooooo steep. HG was by now having a winge at me because I was slowing up his water-delivery speed. With Boolie trying to help as well, a queue had developed.

Down the bank I went. It was muddy at the bottom. "Oh give it here" HG said, irritated that I was slowing him down. Irritated that I was in photo-shoot mode.

"You'll only slip and hurt yourself" he said as he grabbed the handle of the water container and plunged on down the bank.

But the water container refused to go into the water unless HG went into the river as well. But not to worry. Bools went in to keep him company.

But the container would only fill half way up and he had to go further into the river to get it filled up.

He was not best pleased! Normally he just stands at the bottom of the bank and manages to scoop the watering cans full by not having to go into the actual water.

Not much water dribbled over the top of his wellies, and that was mostly done by Bools as he romped around, enjoying what to him was a jolly good lark.

It was at this point that HG went off the boil. Up the bank he charged, lugging the now full water container behind him.
"It's too heavy, and it takes too long. And put that blasted camera away." (or words to that effect)

Things I learnt today: That perhaps discrete photo shoots are better when it is hot and the trees are thirsty and one's Hubs just wants to put his feet up and cool down and does not want to go paddling about in the river wasting time with a project invented by his wife.
That nevertheless it was fun!

PS. The water container is now in retirement until I can think up another project for it.

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