When we bought our house one of the things I was most excited about was finally having my own garden. I pictured myself in a filmy peasant blouse and faded overalls, my hair braided beneath a straw farmer’s hat. I’d weed and water then stand back with colourful gardening-gloved hands on hips to enjoy my flowery handiwork. Perhaps I’d reward myself with an icy julep, drawn from an antique pitcher I’d left glistening on the shady part of the deck. Clearly I’m speaking of ‘Alternate Universe Di’. You know, the Di who sews her own curtains, thought ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ was brilliant, and never, ever swears? Yeah, I can’t stand her either. Read more
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