“Mum, what are all those scratches on your arms?” my daughter asked me with a look of fright. I laughed and told her that I had got into a fight with a bush. She frowned and looked at me with questioning eyes. “I transplanted a giant bush from Barbara’s garden into ours. It was a struggle, and I had forgotten to put on my long sleeve top(1), so my arms got scratched,” I explained. It had been quite a battle. Barbara moved a year ago into her home, and has been wanting to get rid of some of the p...
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