A simple Google search gives a definition of gardening as ‘the activity of tending and cultivating a garden, especially as a pastime’. The associated AI overview attributes a myriad of benefits to doing it; physical health (exercise, healthy diet, vitamin D), mental health (stress reduction, improved mood, increased self-esteem, social interaction) along with a sense of purpose, connection to nature, improved memory and disease prevention.

So far so good however this categorically isn’t a blog in praise of gardening. The reasons for my dislike of it are numerous and as with many things for lots of people started in childhood. My parents bungalow was built in the early 1960s at a time when it seems developers didn’t try and cram as many properties as possible into the smallest amount of space. The bungalow is by no stretch of the imagination anything special, but it does have a decent sized front and back garden. Which needed gardening.

This was also a period in time when having a garden was something of an aspiration for many people, especially those whose formative years had been spent under the cloud of World War Two. So for my parents not only did the garden need gardening it needed gardening to a decent standard. The endless tending of plants, weeding, straightening of boarders, pruning of a huge long laurel bush and mowing took an age and appeared to cause quite a lot of stress to them in getting it right. Of course my attempts to keep a low profile by pretending to read a book or watch television failed and I was dragged into help.

What made it worse still was that both my parents, but especially my dad, were extremely risk averse, meaning that electric mowers (with the need for a long extension lead) or in fact electric hand tools of any kind were not to be countenanced. Instead there was an old fashioned and very heavy hand push mower and an array of tools that seemed, even then, to belong to a different bygone age.

Naturally the vast majority of people are delighted to leave home when the time comes. People go to university, move in with a new partner or just want to have their own space. My reason was to go to university and despite having a good relationship with my parents one of the first thoughts that came to my mind on departure was ‘fantastic this gets me out of ever having to do the garden again’.

Since then nearly forty years have gone by and my dad has long since passed away. My mum is still going relatively strong in the same house with the same garden. She certainly isn’t fit enough at eighty seven to do too much gardening though and I have invested in an electric mower and strimmer to make sure the grass is kept relatively under control.

The flower beds that were so carefully tended for so long have slowly fallen into disrepair, to a point that the grass has reclaimed the space and added to the mowing burden. In fairness that makes the overall garden task far easier, although obviously looking nowhere near as good as numerous flowers in bloom.

Further research on Google suggests April and May are the months when grass growth is at its peak, due to increased temperatures and more rainfall. In a way this is comforting as currently it seems my mum’s grass is growing back to its previous height within a couple of days of its previous cut. Statistically then the worst will be over soon.

Briefly I ponder joining in with ‘No Mow May’ which is an annual UK campaign to avoid mowing lawns during May to boost wildlife, particularly pollinators, by allowing wildflowers to flourish. At first glance this appears a very worthy objective and gives me a get out of jail card for free for the rest of the month. Then I think how difficult it will be to mow the lawn come June 1st. Various images run through my mind of untamed wastelands and jungle scenes.

When I wander round my mum’s estate I can’t help noticing the number of properties that did have gardens when I was a child that now have artificial grass instead or more commonly have been tarmacked over to make a further parking space in multiple car owner households. On reflection in the fast paced modern world it seems gardening isn’t the passion it used to be. Ultimately, maybe this is also the way to get my revenge. Artificial grass at the back a larger drive at the front. For now it’s back to the garage for me to get the mower and embark on another hour of torture.