..."with millions of annoying little weed bastards" is probably the most accurate answer.
I periodically engage the weeds in mortal combat, and spend a day of purgatory vainly trying to totally eradicate them. It is a form of psychological torture. You think they've gone and the next day another crack squadron of junior weeds appears, scoffing at your extermination intentions.
I spent the whole day on weed detail. In fairness, it's sometimes nice to do a bit of physical work . Even if what you have been doing all day is an ultimately pointless exercise, there's something strangely satisfying about knackering yourself in the course of the working day. This is probably due to me generally tending to work in offices and sit on my arse all day.
It is ironic though that I am such a world leader in weed cultivation.
If I buy a houseplant the shop assistant puts a little black cloth on her head as I pay for it. The plant realises that it has just received a death sentence. For some reason, my houseplants never survive more than a few months.
I also have the same trouble with any new plants I put in my garden.
So how come I can grow weeds brilliantly, with very little maintenance. Weeds are just plants growing in the wrong area, aren't they?
I was thinking of maybe entering my dandelions into the Chelsea Flower Show. I have a particularly impressive crop at the moment...
Well anyway, as I always used to say, "She was only a gardener's daughter, but she was a dandelion in bed"
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