"Will you help me survey the garden?" he asked
"Yeah, sure," I replied somewhat naively
"You hold onto this bit of string," he said
And I believed him like a fool
We took off slowly and trod down the hill
Of our ski-slope overgrown mass of garden
We stopped and measured and took our time
And still I naively followed him
We got to the part that we couldn't get through
So he went off for some tools to help cut a way
I stood there waiting for him to come back,
Staring dazed like some kind of idle fool
"I'll just hack this back and you wait there," he said
As I watched him work like a demon
"It won't take a moment to sort this out," he muttered
And I naively was fooled
He hacked through the grass and nettles and such
Like we were out in the tropics
The inevitable happened and I bent down
To pick up a rake, like an idiot
I helped him cut through big shrubs and the weeds
And hauled back the brambles and cuttings
We then found rubbish that didn't belong
And I bent down to lift it all up
Deeper we went down the slope to the end
Or to what we thought was the end
This was our first try to see the extent
Of our new garden, so we were excited
The nettles fought back and the brambles scratched
And the ground underneath us moved
An hour and many feet later we stumbled
And found the wall at end of our land
He smiled at me and said we did well
I looked at him dumb-founded
Then turned to look at the hill behind
And trembled to think of the climb
A quick calculation he did in his head
As he looked at the readings we'd taken
"It's a 1 in 3 hill and about 100ft back" he said
I replied, "You must be mistaken!"
My legs turned to jelly and I went all limp
As I looked at the face of Mt Everest
It took a wee while to return to the house
I collapsed on the chair in great pain
So next time he asks, "Can you help with the garden?"
I'll look at him and say quite firmly
"No way, Livingston, you're on your own.
Can you kindly get stuffed and sod off!"