It was a perfect Easter weekend. The sun was out, our umpteen varieties of lettuce were potted up and put out in the little plastic greenhouse, the plot was turned over once more, and I built a bird table. It was a very laid back, relaxing effort, and then we bought some secateurs and Katie went crazy.
The effect that a very sharp and dangerous implement had on Katie and her gardening mood was amazing. I'd seen her destructive and brutal side before, and it usually results in cuts and bruises to her hands where the knife has slipped while chopping veg. But this time she proved unbelievably effective: bushes vanished in a flurry of quick snipping; the ivy that's strangling a plum-like fruit tree was given a very nice short back and sides; and I got to say don't twist the blades when you cut, hearing my Dad's voice in my head all the while.
Quite where Katie learnt the art of full-scale gardening war is beyond me. Possibly it formed in those moments of tranquility she has while standing on her head at yoga. But effective she was, and a tremendous job she did too. The garden is starting to look like it's well maintained and something to be proud of. And her only war wound was a small scratch on the end of her nose.
A perfect weekend indeed.