My potential nemesis the farmer appeared at the bottom of my garden today, digging his trenches, ditches for drainage. Pull the other one mate, you’re building something innit? My neighbour texted me in a panic this morning concerned that the farmer is going to build something on the massive field, 50 acres, maybe, it’s huge. But there is nothing that would indicate that a properly rural field would have any sort of building aside form a barn or two put up on the field, at the bottom, far enough away to check it out with a telescope.
My biggest worry is if my grass seed is going to take. So far so good, the seed grows roots down first, sucks up water from the soil then the seed bursts and grass pops upwards, and thats Biology; live! And in the current situation, if we are to slowly leave lockdown, watching the grass grow may well become a favourite pastime of mine, and in no way am I being paid for growing the stuff, but its so much better than watching paint dry.
In conclusion, I have nothing further to say, because often there is nothing further to say. This is one of these moments.