Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Mulch mulch mulch mulch

I've been thinking about re-naming this blog for a while ... it's not just about quilting. I haven't thought of a better name though. Choosing a name for a blog is really hard! You either have to go slightly obscure with something that means something to you but no-one else, or you can go with boringly descriptive, or you can try something funny but that gets tired pretty quickly, or you can try and "brand" it like it's coca cola. I went with boringly descriptive in the end, but if the description isn't right, then all you're left with is boring! 

I will continue to ponder on it. I like to spend most of my time thinking about really trivial matters while I put off doing important things. In the meantime, there is mulch. This is the scene outside our house. Lucky neighbours, having us consistently lower the tone of the street.

These are the steps (some of them) from our house up to the road. If you want to get mulch from the street to the back garden where the roses are, you carry it in a bucket.

And put it into a wheelbarrow.

Four shovelfuls in a bucket. Eighteen steps to the wheelbarrow down, and eighteen back up. Three bucketloads make a wheelbarrow full. One wheelbarrow covers about half a square meter of garden bed. Repeat...

1 comment:

  1. We have been lowering the tone of our street since we moved in 6 years ago - always a pile of mulch next to the driveway. My husband/chief mulcher reckons our garden is like the Harbour Bridge - no sooner have you finished mulching, than it's time to start over again. Personally I just wish he'd get a bigger load and do it all at once so I could have a nice front lawn, not a pile of bark and leaves. But I shouldn't complain - he's the one who does all the work (no stairs to climb, thankfully!)