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Yep...some good advice there from GQ.
To which - one can only add - dont be surprised if there are mega-size/mega-weight bits of rubbish (or any other rubbish) down there hidden underneath the soil.
In hindsight - I wouldnt have assumed previous owners of my house had dug out the garden properly somewhere along the line. None of them ever did I've subsequently found = cue for bricks/concrete blocks/etc hidden down some inches underneath the soil and lots of other stuff I couldnt believe someone would have left/put there - but they had.
GQ has obviously had the same problem - with different bits of rubbish.
It's obviously not uncommon to bury rubbish - rather than dispose of it properly and leave us "future gardeners" nice clear soil to do our gardening in.
"Just keep right on" I would say - and keep visioning the future, ie where it all looks nice and lush and distinctly productive. I'm a couple of years into the garden here - and it's starting to show strong signs of the lushness and productivity. To the extent that I think I should have visitors on their holidays staying in the summer and I can feed them for half price by the time I get my garden to next years standard.
BTW - word to the wise = chuckleberries. I'm becoming a distinct fan of them - as they are bigger/sweeter/lots more of them than something like blackcurrants. Dual purpose = grow to eat raw or its possible to make jams/puddings/etc with them. Honeyberries, on the other hand, hmmm.....0 -
Can't remember if i mentioned it before we found a motorbike and an old greatcoat wrapped in sheeting of some sort and buried in a garden at a council house I lived in as a teen. Not sure what went on there! At the time we just dug it out and took it to the tip but I now wonder if it was a crime scene of some kind.SPC~12 ot 124
In a world that has decided that it's going to lose its mind, be more kind my friend, try to Be More Kind0 -
mrs-moneypenny wrote: »Can't remember if i mentioned it before we found a motorbike and an old greatcoat wrapped in sheeting of some sort and buried in a garden at a council house I lived in as a teen. Not sure what went on there! At the time we just dug it out and took it to the tip but I now wonder if it was a crime scene of some kind.
Someone I know dug up a pram, proper old style one, plus lots of paint cans. All well underground in the new-to-them back garden.
I've dug up a sugar basin, the stock from an air rifle, part of a tractor, horse shoe nails, shin bone from a cow, several carpets, central heating pipework, those metal supports for holding up barbed wire, a kitchen knife (under a carpet) and more kilos of glass and nails and brick bats than you could shake a stick at. The latter small items keep on coming
The ghastliest stuff by far is the green waffle rubber carpet underlay which some person previously covered my entire allotment with and which was well underground. Ever known a mattock to bounce back at you? It does when it hits three layers of buried rubber waffle underlay.I have, in my darkest hours, had grim fantasies of how I would torture the person responsible to a slow and agonising death. Probably by force-feeding them carpet underlay.:rotfl:
Every increased possession loads us with a new weariness.
John Ruskin
Veni, vidi, eradici
(I came, I saw, I kondo'd)
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They could at least leave us a bit of "buried treasure" eh GQ?!:cool:
But I think you've come up with the worst of it by the sound of it...0 -
Bedsit_Bob wrote: »Yes.
TBH, I prefer Germany and Belgium.
We lived in the Flemish-speaking part of Belgium for a while, a long time ago when OH was in the army. I like it a lot, though my German is better than my Flemish as I learned it at school and spent several years in BAOR. Managed to dredge up some Flemish though when we visited Antwerp again a few years ago and took a train trip to the little town where we'd lived
Even now we always have mayo on our chips
Margaret 54 That programme sounds really interesting! I don't think it's been on over here, but I shall look out for it, thank you0 -
I've stayed in Antwerp.
Visited the Dikke Mee Restaurant.
Mind you, I still prefer Berlin.0 -
One of my cousins used to live in the Flemish speaking part of Belgium a few miles outside Brussels. She speaks French as a first language, English as the second, and no Flemish.
Her neighbours almost certainly could speak French but chose not to so so for political reasons, so they used English together. Go figure.
The Dutch tell jokes about the Belgians like we tell Irish jokes, according to a Dutchman of my acquaintance. It's an interesting country, particularly accomplished in the major food groups (beer and chocolate, natch).;)Every increased possession loads us with a new weariness.
John Ruskin
Veni, vidi, eradici
(I came, I saw, I kondo'd)
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Of course, Belgian Chocolate.
It can't be beaten, but it can (and should) be eaten. :cool:0 -
GQ - I can well understand not learning (or admitting to knowing any of.....) a language for "political reasons".....ahem....so I can see why that would happen. Sometimes there are situations where learning/admitting to knowing any of a particular language could be taken as = agreeing with something one profoundly disagrees with. Use of a language can be profoundly divisive sometimes - hence not admitting to knowing any of it.. It boils down to refusing to allow anything like that to be divisive imo. It would be such a relief if everyone right across the planet spoke one language and one language only (Esperanto would do.....).
...and back to actual "real life problems" and one super-stressed moggy at the moment. My friend's rescue cat has come down with an illness that could have been at least partly caused by stress. Poor little thing. Who'd a thunk it that even animals could come down with stress-related illnesses? Only prescription I can think of right now being "lots of cuddles" whilst dealing with the external symptoms of this. Thinks - it could be easier sometimes being an animal then than it is to be a human....:cool:0 -
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