Or near enough.
I've spent much time being appalled by the state of my garden. Standing on the back step, gazing out at the mess and tutting to myself as if it had nothing to do with me. I decided today that it can't go on. I have to do something before the house disappears under the mass of vegetation.
One of the biggest tasks is to get rid of the kangaroo apple. I won't be able to take care of it in one hit, so I'm breaking it down into a series of smaller jobs. Today's goal—trimming the tree on one side.
Armed with secateurs and gardening gloves, I attacked the tree and snipped away all the smaller branches. Of which there were many. Not wanting to waste all that organic matter, I cut it into smaller pieces and used it as mulch. That kangaroo apple can probably provide enough mulch for the whole garden—as long as I keep ahead of its growth. (You know, these pictures don't give a very clear idea of how much I had to cut away. It felt like tonnes.)
I uncovered plants I'd forgotten were there. I felt a bit like Carter at Tutankhamen's tomb. There was the Erythrina humeana (left). And there the Allocasuarina zephyrea, more etiolated than the potted one but still growing well. And that poor Banksia. It had once produced beautiful flowers ...
So tomorrow I will continue the trim. If all I do on my holidays is get my garden under control, I'll be happy.