Unlike my lovely cleaning lady, the gardener was something else. He never seemed to be in a good mood and often argued with or ridiculed something I said. On the day in question (last Friday to be exact) he arrived in a snappy mood, grumbling that he had a lot of work on. I remarked that it was good to have enough work to keep going, but he retorted that it meant working the next day when he didn’t want to work the next day. He seemed rather put out about having to work at all.
We have trees all
round the garden, which I love because of my fascination with birds, but
admittedly they are tall and do stop the light from getting to anything growing
beneath them. That doesn’t bother me because in actual fact nothing of
importance does grow beneath them, just the odd bush or two and I just cut them
back if they lean out too far. Gardener, however, thought the trees should be
chopped down. They’re not his trees nor are they ours but I agree that we could
prune them a little on our side of the fence. Eventually! ‘If they were mine I’d go round to your neighbour and demand that he
removes them’ were his words, spoken somewhat aggressively.
I said the gardener was something else because he no
longer comes. At least I don’t think he does... he drove off in an angry huff,
without having touched a blade of grass except when walking on it. But I’m rushing
on before the tale is told.
When he first
started coming the man insisted on a minimum of two hours work, once a
fortnight, by which time the grass is ready to be cut on two lawns which leaves
little time for other work. He has managed to trim some laurel and a prickly
hedge of mixed growth and apologised for not being able to do the tops of the
hedge because of the sheer height.
I repeat, it was a
hedge not a tree.

So you see why I
think we’ve lost our gardener! And good riddance. We can do without that sort
of attitude and, let’s face it, there are plenty more around. Do you know what
irks most? It’s that last flung remark about loyalty... from a man who only
visited three or four times! If he’d been coming twenty years and some guy came
and took over his job I could understand it... but three or four times? We’d
hardly got to know him. You’ll notice I didn’t mention the man’s name and
that’s because I can’t remember it... I didn’t know him long enough for his
name to impinge itself on my silly brain.