Butts

A diary blip.
After protracted negotiations with the donor of a leaky water butt from a village outside Oxford, three of us rendezvoused at 11am in a car park by the ring road. (Isn't that a great start to a novel? No? Oh. All right then.) I went on my bike to do the lifting from the donor's car boot to my very kind friend's car boot.

I then went to collect compost from my old house, ferried back on bike trailers by B and me, which I carted through the house while he went to collect another leaky water butt on his bike trailer - much bigger than mine.

We sawed the water butts in half, mixed the compost with my thick wet clay-y soil and planted two more apple rootstock to add to the six already done. 

So, in the exciting foreground, left to right: half a water butt collected this afternoon, waiting for some more soil/compost; half a water butt that was already in my garden and which I've been using to store hardcore ready for the house rebuild, planted today; a proper plant pot, found in the garden; half a water butt collected this morning, planted today.

In the exciting background: two top-halves of water butt which I am still working out how to use, two allegedly leaky water butts collected on Friday which I will test for leaks, two water butts and a dustbin which I already use for storing rainwater.

Congratulations on reaching the tedious end.

(And apologies for the cheat picture, taken the morning after because the ones I took after the work was done were too dark.)