A Week in the life of a Gardener's Spouse She dug the plot on Monday, the soil was rich and fine But she forgot to put the dinner on, so out we went to dine. She planted roses Tuesday, she says they are a must. They really were quite lovely, but she forgot to dust. On Wednesday it was daisies they opened with the sun, All pinks and whites and yellows, but the laundry wasn't done. The poppies came on Thursday all bright and cherry red, I guess she really was engrossed, she never made the bed. It was violets here on Friday in colours she adores, It never bothered her at all, the dirt upon our floors. Saturday I hired a maid, I'd not admit defeat, She can garden all she wants now and the house will still be neat It's nearly lunchtime Sunday I cannot find the maid, Oh I don't believe it. She's out there alongside my wife with her own spade!
That sounds just like me forgetting to do things in the house - well the garden is just so much more inviting isn't it?!! Thanks for the poem Susie I'm going to save it. :-D
Ah... that's a grand poem if I ever saw one. I'll put it on the fridge and see if I get a maid...or garden helper...either will be fine.
