I think I've over watered the chives (pictured). It's going to be an usually hot week here in Tas and was getting a little ahead of myself. Having limited ability in the skilled gardener category I tend to over do things. This can be a good thing. When I'm on a weed pulling mission there's no stopping me. The chooks think it's marvellous. They stand beside me cheering me on as I launch myself under overgrown rose bushes, with my weeding weapons of mass dislodging. I recently met my match with a lone box thorn branch sneakily siding up beside an English box hedge hoping to go unnoticed. I thought it looked a bit unusual. I put on my chainmail gloves and went to it. I pulled it and pulled it. The chicken crowds gathered. It wouldn't budge. I pulled it with all my weight and it didn't even move, not even slightly. It's long rope of a stem held firm as its roots had securely lodged themselves under the old concrete border for protection. I contemplated wrapping it around myself and hurling myself across the courtyard but decided the audience had been entertained enough for one day. I'm later told that the only way to deal with this pest is to cut it down and poison the roots. I hate the idea of putting any poison anywhere near plants given particularly if left in my care they need all the support they can get. But this will be added to the list of jobs. As for the chives. Well I'll just step away from them for a while.
