Truck
Out walking with Billy and stopped to chat to this fellow whose job is to keep the newly planted hedge next to the gardens alive.
(I can't work out where to put the commas in that sentence, so I'm leaving them out altogether.)
The parks in our town are full of dead and dying trees.
I read that those in charge of the beautiful Botanic Gardens in Sydney have developed a plan to choose which plants get to live.
Heartbreaking.
Anyhoo, this fellow said that he is frequently abused.
He's abused if he waters the plants to keep them alive, and is seen to be wasting water, and he's abused if plants die and he hasn't watered them.
He was pretty phlegmatic about it all, but I suspect, like the rest of us, that he finds it all very depressing.
Hobbs has the perfect rhyme for MonoMonday, but he's too polite to say:)
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