The tale of twenty bougainvilleas

1st September 2025

Happy Monday everyone. Monday always used to be carnage back in my working days. In Emergency departments Mondays saw the arrivals of all the DIY accidents over the weekend. All the people who did not go to A/E at the weekend because they perceived it would be too busy, also pitch up on a Monday. Mondays see the arrivals of everyone who had been worrying about stuff over the weekend and decided to do something about it, but as Monday in General practice was also full of the same people, appointments were scarce. Anyway, I would describe our Monday as quiet, gentle but productive. We have met the gate man to draw up a design and quote for replacing the rusty old front gates, we have been shopping for some supplies, not just food but also primer and painting “stuff” to continue the Mill restoration job. So productive but the reason why it’s been quiet is I’m comparing it to Sunday. Sunday, the supposed day of rest, was a HARD HOT SLOG. We started at 6.30 to capture the cooler time and were joined at 9 by our two new gardeners. We all put in a shift but by half those boys have stamina. I the third under-gardener was allocated Bougainvillea pruning. Supposedly this was so I could choose the height and shape we wanted. Now these bushes are beautiful, they flower in dry season, so now is the time to prune I’m told. Not all of you will know that behind the beautiful blooms are thorns. BIG THORNS. In and amongst the thorns, there were vines that needed pulling out and other weeds that had become small trees that needed sawing down. We worked together, me the third under gardener and the chief head honcho. Me with shears and clippers, sunscreen and a floppy hat. Him with a chainsaw, weed wacker and balaclava.

Yes, twenty …. There are twenty bougainvillea along the bottom wall of the garden. Two were condemned, one was dead and one was encroaching on a frangipani tree, so had to go. …. I did some judicious pruning of the bushes up at the house see below …. So twenty were pruned.

By the time the boys had left at 5pm, I had already been knocked off work for an hour. I was hot sweaty and dead on my feet, but not as dead as the desiccated mongoose that had been giving us the odd whiff all day and then finally revealed itself, fangs and all.

The second under gardener who had been on weeds, leaves and coconut clearance and a thwarted love in with the Beast, then had to become my surgery consultant to remove the bougainvillea jooks in my elbow….

The garden looks amazing, bring on the dry season when we will reap the rewards of the tale of twenty bougainvillea.