I own a small plot of land just outside the town. I dont plant anything there; its simply my place to escape and unwind when I have a free moment. Im not interested in spending my time or energy tending to a vegetable garden. Instead, Ive put up a barbecue, a garden gazebo for shelter in case it rains, and have plans to put up a nice picket fence around the property soon.
Most weekends, Id drive out of the city to this peaceful slice of countryside, grill sausages, and let my worries drift away in the quiet air. My neighbours were the usual sortpolite enough, kept to themselves, never a bother. Except for one woman, Margaret, who always seemed to be about, ear to the ground, nosing into my business. She just couldnt wrap her head around why Id leave a plot unplanted. Her own place, just across the lane, was a riot of colourovergrown with flowers, vegetables, and saplings, all lovingly tended from dawn until dusk.
For now, there was no fence dividing our properties, so Margaret would sometimes stroll into my garden as if she owned the place, without even the courtesy of a warning. I never liked it. More than once Id turn up only to find her poking around, looking over every patch of earth.
Once, I asked, Is everything alright, Margaret?
Oh, absolutely, she replied breezily, Just thinking where you might fit a few rows of onions. Its such a waste, all this empty space going unused. Maybe Ill plant something myselfsurely you wouldnt mind?
I was caught off guardwhat could I say? I didnt want to offend her, so after a pause I said, I suppose you could plant a single row, but thats all.
Straight away, I regretted it. That afternoon she was all over my garden, hands in the soil, fussing and planting while I struggled to find a moments peace. Her presence set me on edge; my escape from the city was no longer my own.
Eventually it was time for my holiday. I took the train down to the seaside, hoping the salty air would clear my head. But when I returned, eager for a quiet weekend on my land, I was stunned by what greeted meMargaret had put up a whole greenhouse, complete with beds of cucumbers and tomatoes stretching across my plot.
I didnt even need to ask whod done it; I knew. Her presumption made my blood boil. I called a friend, and that very afternoon we went to the DIY shop and bought fencing. We raised the boundary in a day, sealing off my garden with sturdy wire mesh so Margaret could no longer wander in as she pleased.
The following weekend, she turned up at the gate, aggrieved. Why on earth have you put up a fence? Now I cant get to my plants. Do you expect to look after them yourself?
At that, Id had quite enough of her cheek. That evening, I dismantled the greenhouse and tossed every last bit of it back over the fence onto her side. Since then, Margaret hasnt so much as nodded at me in passingand honestly, Im rather relieved.
So, tell medo you think I did the right thing?
