Sunday morning I was scalping the small pocket handkerchief of grass that passes for our front garden in Wandsworth when a bloke stopped and leaned over the small brick wall.
"Yer doin' a grand job there" he commented in a pronounced Irish brogue.
"Thank you" I replied.
"What you want to do," he advised, "is sprinkle a bottle of whiskey over the grass".
Walking straight into it, I exclaimed "A waste of good whiskey!".
"Ah but," he quipped "when it grows back it'll come up half cut".
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2 comments:
So clever. :)
Mary didn't believe me at first but this is a verbatim transcript of what actually happened Sunday morning.
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