The peril of the pegs

Spring in Marlborough means a lot of wonderful things and one of the best kept secrets is the winds. Within a couple of weeks the hills transform from optimistic green to barren brown. My vegetable garden has been resembling the Sahara desert most evenings after a day of wind. I have found myself thoroughly heartbroken at the sight of dozens of loads of sawdust which I have shovelled around the garden blowing themselves around like shifting sand dunes. I have also learnt that even three pegs don’t hold washing in wind like that, and instead of collecting it from the fence wires and watching Justin’s underwear tumbleweed across the lawn I should just pick my times for drying.

What I hadn’t taken into account was the peril of the humble clothes peg. I have a basket which is hung off the line, if not clipped on correctly that too with blow around the garden dispensing pegs like colourful lawn ornaments. That is until someone…. mows them over and then they are just colourful plastic shards. I have also a chief peg handing assistant, although we are yet to perfect the rhythm, it is either 6 at once or single rapid fire handing of pegs until Luca gets bored. After which I then find pegs distributed through the house, most recently in the freezer. However the pegs now have a new nemesis, and it is just the tip of the iceberg I am sure. What chance do they have against this…..


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