Don't worry, despite the title this post does not contain pencil drawings of a naked bearded man in various gardening postures. Any references to bush are purely horticultural.
When I was younger I could not for the life of me see the attraction that gardening had for other men up and down the UK. To me it was just one of the most boring chores imaginable, and - having suffered with regular periods of depression - I'm always conscious that boredom leads to rumination and, inevitably, unhappy thoughts. Just going out to mow the lawn could easily result in a lowering of my mood. Essentially mowing is just walking in straight lines, occasionally changing direction and every so often emptying the cuttings. It's not something that taxes or occupies the thinking part of the brain.
For that reason, for many years I've used music or podcasts to keep that part of my mind entertained. Years ago that would have meant trailing a headphone lead down the back of my T-shirt to keep it out of the way, and dangling a clunky portable cassette or CD player off my belt. Even my first MP3 player, the Creative Nomad Jukebox, was around the same size, swinging around and bouncing off things. Nowadays of course we're spoilt by phones and wireless headphones and an infinite choice of listening material.
We've got a reasonably big garden and for a number of years had a gardener come in a few times a year to prune the trees (we've got four in the back garden and three in the front) and maintain the borders. All I've needed to do was mow the lawn every couple of weeks. This year has been different as the drought we had through the summer basically killed the grass so there was nothing to cut for three months, but the plants in the borders have gone berserk and grown out every which-way.
So it was down to me to tame the beast and bring it back under control. The only gardening book I've ever read is The Day of the Triffids but, not having a flame-thrower, I had to go hand-to-hand with shears, clippers and secateurs. This all began before I retired so it was a standing joke when sharing what-you-did-at-the-weekend stories with colleagues. That I'd be trimming my bush became so common that I didn't even have to name it to trigger laughter.
We get our green waste collected fortnightly and I must have filled 10 wheelie bin loads, finely chopping it like a parsley garnish to make best use of space. All of this activity has been accompanied with music on random selection or the You're Dead To Me history podcast from the BBC, which is both informative and very funny at the same time; I have L'd literally OL several times. It must scare the neighbours to see me laughing maniacally while attacking some undergrowth with shears, like an evil Monty Don.
When I retired at the end of August part of me did wish I'd done it earlier in the year so I could spend time in the garden, but since then we've had generally great weather (for the time of year) in September and October so I've been out working in the garden most days. It's taken a lot of work to get the borders back under control, especially as the invasive buddleia had a root system around 12 feet across and was 8 feet tall! I've also repaired a bird table, re-stained the summer house and fixed the railway sleepers on the water feature.
At this point you're probably thinking the title of this post is a sarcastic one, but there you'd be wrong. Besides losing some weight, my movement is looser and more mobile, I'm standing taller from not slouching at the desk all day and I've been aware of fresh air. Most importantly, being out there has really helped my mental health. Despite being a city boy from London, I've always felt more at home in the countryside. Green spaces are immensely calming and being surrounded by nature and wildlife does wonders for the mood.
I think I finally realise why people look forward to getting out there to do stuff. I don't think I could do it without my music - that's been my mental crutch since I was small - but I really do feel better for having spent time out there.
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