I have had an issue with the darker parts of my front garden (refer to previous post) and two days ago I was very much of a mind to just abandon the area under the hedge to its own devices because it was my view that no self-respecting flower would want to live there never mind actually enjoy growing there.

Hostas love the shade but slugs and snails love hostas and we’ve had our fair share of those molluscs in our garden in the past so there really was no point in parting with my money to feed those creatures that can sniff out a hosta or a lupin from miles away.

So, are there any plants that both look interesting, if not beautiful, enjoy the dark and aren’t on every snail’s radar?

I doubted it two days ago but when I thought about it, of course there are. Not everyone needs a giant ball of fire millions of miles away beating down on them to thrive. Some people actually like to be curled up safely in cosy, dark corners in a dressing gown with the blinds drawn. Cue the fern family ((Pteridophyta).

Ferns are rather fabulous plants in their own strange way. They love shady, damp patches (though they have been known to flourish on rocky mountaintops and open plains too), they are one of the oldest plant species, have medicinal properties, are self-sufficient, have no flowers or seeds and, something I didn’t know, they are often used to remediate contaminated soils. They are a joy to behold with their fronds unfurling gradually from a tight spiral. But above all, they are happy and even thrive in shady spaces.

It doesn’t seem to bother them at all that they are rarely even noticed, they don’t seem to hanker after the “oohs and ahhs” so craved by the big-blossomed peonies or fragrant and perfectly formed hybrid teas. They are happy in their own skin, happy beneath a hedge, quietly, unobtrusively useful in many, many ways and, if you take the time to seek them out in their dark, damp corners, get to understand them, you’ll find that these shy, retiring plants really are rather special.

I haven’t had much time lately between one disaster after another in my football world. I’d like to visit a friend, go for a walk, have a cup of tea with someone, talk about something other than football but it’s rather curious how one can get so wrapped up in something to the extent that there really doesn’t seem to be any life outside it.

I wonder how other people manage combining interests and socialising and jobs and parenthood. I used to think that I was pretty good at it but now I know I’m not.

I’m already getting that gnawing feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach at the thought of how I’m going to manage with three children on Easter holidays for the next fortnight and a club that is dependent on me being available because of staffing problems.

I remember when I had a proper job and felt huge frustrations with how the company was being run. I voiced those frustrations. I was the bolshy one who would tear into the MD’s office and tell him what he was doing wrong and what he should be doing. The boot is on the other foot now and I feel sympathy for my previous employers. It’s no fun shouldering the responsibility of an organisation, being the one who has to sacrifice a personal life. Employees can take their one hour lunch break, leave when 5pm comes, not give the company a second thought as they travel home to catch Emmerdale. Being in a position of power is not all it’s cracked up to be. Why would anyone want it?

I want my life back. It’s a bit like my garden.

I can’t decide what to do with the front garden. I took half an hour off yesterday to go to a garden centre and just couldn’t decide what would look best in the beds beneath my hedge. It’s very shady and nothing that produces beautiful blooms grows there. Virtually all the plants that caught my eye required full sun. And of course there’s a good reason for that. What on earth that is pretty and strong and makes people feel good could possibly thrive beneath a hedge in a dark area? You place a lovely plant in such a place and of course it’s going to die. If I were a plant placed in such a spot, I’d feel very sad and neglected and long to grow arms and lever myself out of the ground and hop across to the sunny spot by the front door where the roses and clematis are basking in all their glory.

Well, I bought some plants that apparently will do alright in a shady area but as I glance out the window at the sunshine, I’m not sure that I can bear to subject them to a life under a hedge.

I am having a really nice day today! I went for a walk with a friend and her gorgeous dog and reminisced about watching the BBC’s Sheepdog Trials programme on a Sunday night when I was young. Chirpy, intelligent and diligent black and white sheepdogs racing around the pen, what was it that captured my interest at a young age? Was it the energy or the competition or just looking at the open spaces and nearly breathing the fresh air? I can even see the television in our sitting room, so I will keep that picture with me today and breathe it. It’s fabulous when you have a day with no expectations and it improves.

After the walk, I had a few phone calls to make including one to Tom the dishwasher man who fixes everything by the way, not just dish washers. TtDM is just how I keep him in my contacts list in my mobile phone! My washing machine is not broken but is working away with the help of a slither of cardboard holding the on off button in position. That is, keeping the power supply connected.  Not exactly safe, I am sure, but needs must. Anyway, TtDM hadn’t forgotten about me, a new button has just arrived, he said, the second in fact so let’s hope this works. Either way he is on his way!! I am also hoping he can fix toilets. We have a broken toilet flushing system and it may be his thing? You never know! He will then become Tom the Dishwasher, fridge, washing machine man and possibly toilet man. I am being optimistic.

The broken toilet was an interesting process. Darling number one son broke it and then between the two of us, somehow Mr Mack implicated me in it, we flushed away the button. My instant reaction was to swap the button from the other toilet, which is less used, and go on from there. As per usual, the missing button could not be replaced and a whole new siphoning unit, as Tom the Dishwasher man has called it, has to be changed. I have got the replacement part for about three weeks now, Mr Mack having in fact ordered it before Christmas and I just noticed it yesterday when I needed a cardboard box for school! Ah ha, the siphoning unit which Tom the dishwasher, fridge and washing machine man cannot do!

I am visualising large green open spaces and breathing fresh air as I reach for the phone book to get a number for a plumber.