A couple of years ago we acquired a mature gooseberry bush: prickly, covered in lichen but sound. On Monday we had a fresh, new year look at it.
It was growing well from the base after pruning, but at its heart was a big clump of grass. Not couch, I thought. My husband suggested that we remove the grass and move said bush across the plot.
Easier said than done. Drove spade into our heavy Essex clay, soaked with this season's rain. Put on strong gloves. Tugged. Drove spade in again (husband). Finally we heaved it out.
The grass, as surmised, was not couch, but formed a thick mass just above the root system of our bush. Peering at it, I was pretty sure I could tell grass from gooseberry. Tugged. Very little movement from ball of grass except for a few broken stems. Not thorough enough for husband, who hates this invasive stuff.
Suggested dumping bush in communal water tanks to wash off soil from roots. Neither a good nor neighbourly idea.
Put on strong gloves again. Took bush down to the amenity hut. Washed off soil with the help of a redundant milk pan and a disused bath full of rainwater.
Tugged at roots again. Success. Threw grass rootball towards boundary fence as far as possible without incursion into back gardens.
Took bush back to husband. Some roots looked a bit bashed. But on the whole it was pretty sound. Dug hole (husband) down to the subsoil (my insistence) in order to furnish room for bush. Replanted bush and firmed up soil.
Remember us, O you fortunate commuters who drive up to the garden centre to load your trolleys.
Happy New Year from us both.
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