So what did I do, between moving in and Rotovation Day?
Mostly I stared out my kitchen window, watching the cats; all four of them (yes, there are two gingers).
It was a wasteland, somewhat daunting, staring out of that window every morning as I waited for the kettle to boil for my coffee. I just wanted to get out there and dig, especially as the weather got warmer, and the earth got warmer too. Get out there with a shovel and a fork, pull everything up with my bare hands if need be, but I wanted it clear. We had an early discussion, a friend and I, about getting a group of friends round for a “digging party” wherein I would provide copious amounts of hearty food and as much alcohol as necessary to facilitate the process. But no, the most sensible option was always going to be, hiring a rotovator and digging the heck out of the whole plot.
Still, the cats loved it.
I believe that they thought it was their playground, as it hadn’t been tended for a very long time. Not by lack of desire by the other residents, but from what I understand those who occupied the flat before us used it as something of a dumping ground, for anything from mattresses to old, non-working appliances.
Besides, although cats of course are amazingly agile and can balance seemingly anywhere, if they felt lazy there is (not for much longer now) a perfect cat-sized hole in the back fence.
My sister and her family came to visit in February, and with that I had my birthday present; a brilliant spur of the moment gift found at Camden Market which couldn’t have been any better.
And a housewarming present – a compost maker. Yes, only she could understand that for me, this was a brilliant housewarming present!
But of course we needed to dig, before I could even think of setting it up…