Sometimes, the only thing to say on this thread is 'weeding'. Without it we'd all have better things to do. (When I say 'better' I actually mean 'other'). But. I was in the beds earlier and there was mud on my knees, mud on my socks, mud smeared down my shirt and my fingernails were black. And yet I realised I felt very happy. No weeding, no life.
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