I started in the herb garden - pushing back on the advancing lines of Pennywort, my rhizomatous nemesis. Spreading unchecked during my eight month absence from the battlefield, it has found a way into almost every garden bed. In what could only be described as a hopeless show of resistance, I spent a good few hours, chlorophyll dripping from my pitchfork, trying to eradicate every last ungodly runner. A single piece of root left behind will spread all the way back to square one - but even if there's little hope I've made any difference, at least the whole thing looks great covered over with sugar cane.
Rosemary and parsley are still going strong, the oregano that once closely resembled an informal lawn has now been reduced by winter to a few small clumps - I relocated these into the sunniest spot of the herb garden.
With the fork, I made it all the way back to the plum trees by the early afternoon.
Once upon a time, I set out to grow the perfect plum. Now I'd just take any plum at all, really. This is the third season I've had these trees, and despite my best efforts to pick a good polinating pair, set a good soil pH and keep them fed, they're just not co-operating. They're going to want to do something fast, because next Autumn I'm going to be looking for new tenants if they can't keep up with the rent, so to speak.