I have mowed everywhere that could reasonably be mowed! (And lots of places that probably were not really reasonable to mow but I pushed the lawnmower at them anyway). The plucky little lawnmower has heroically GOBBLED UP all sorts of things for which it was not really designed, and if there were a medal for special bravery in lawnmowers, it would definitely deserve one. It's amazing what you can mow if you try.
The dogs approved of my mowing. They tried out the new short grass.
I have moved all the heavy trunks of hazel and holly that had been waiting to be lugged up to the bonfire heap, and what is more, I have chopped off a lot of branches from the big probably!Bramley apple tree too. I think that apple tree is starting to find its own branches too heavy to carry, so I also used one of the removed branches to make a prop to try to hold one of the larger limbs up.
I pruned the Happy Apple tree a bit too, to be able to get the mower in. The happy apple tree is a bit less happy this year - not sure if it is the weather, or if it doesn't like having a clematis climbing up it. May trim the clematis once it has finished flowering and send it up the twisted willow instead, since that doesn't have to do traumatic and difficult things like producing apples.
The happy apple tree dropped an apple on my head while I was sawing. I caught the apple and ate it. Very good it was too.
I have pruned the shrub roses! Probably a bit severely, and as they had not been pruned for years, I hope they won't be too traumatised. But they were very shaggy, and a lot of ivy had climbed in between them, which I pulled out in long strands and tied into bundles for lugging up to the bonfire heap. This is the after shot. Those two tub trugs are not what I removed. They are a tiny insignificant remnant of all the stuff I weeded.
I also pulled and bundled an awful lot of brambles. I may not have actually wiped them out - I don't think that is possible. But I like to think I have driven them shrieking back into their strongholds.
The brambles are particularly pernicious this year, what with all the rain, but I think that the ferns are even more domineering The brambles leap out wildly, throwing their tendrils in all directions, but the ferns sit there, gradually expanding to fill more and more space, with the quiet confidence of plants that have been around for a very long time. People, dogs and cats come and go through the garden, but I sometimes think the ferns are the true masters of the garden. They just carry on growing, in the quiet hope that a dinosaur will turn up and eat the noisy mammals.
Here is the bonfire heap. I have included notes to show how big it is, and other important points.
If I could muster this much energy for gardening every day for a week, the garden would look awesome, I would be as fit as a flea (or, possibly, unable to walk) and the bonfire heap would be large enough to make a conflagration that would cause panic and consternation among people looking down from Dartmoor, who would ever after recount tales of The Day We Saw The Huge Blaze.
After all this gardening I was rather feeble when walking the dogs, and about half way round, decided to have a nice sit down. This caused all three dogs to come haring back to see what was up with me. I must try this tactic again!