Happiness is a man on a tractor

Wild canna lilies, tangled brambles of moth plants, woolly nightshade and wandering jew are no match for my old man! Having begged, pleaded, grovelled and wheedled for a week, I finally convinced Dad to bring his tractor up for the weekend to help clear the huge mess of weeds on my side boundary. It took all day to drag, pull, hoist and shuffle nine cubic metres of green waste into a huge rubbish skip. It has left a gaping hole, but it had to be done. And it was fairly painless, apart from the Phoenix palm spike in my palm (ow!) and the Phoenix palm spike in my head (double ow!)... and the aching hamstrings from going up and down the ladder all day to stomp up and down on the prunings so we could cram more in.
I must admit, I'm quite excited by the possibilities presented by my new gap. I'm now negotiating with the neighbours to find the perfect boundary planting (anything but pittosporums!), then I'm intending to jam in lots of heritage fruit trees. I want a quince, a dwarf pear (the old one looks worringly unsteady now that I can actually see the base of its trunk), more grapes, almonds, nectarines, a late plum and more berries. And perhaps a picking border... I think I'll dig up all the dahlias and plant them along the back of the picket fence, so I can easily tie them up each summer for support.