pumpkinstrokemarrow

Yesterday decided to go in for a spot of gardening for once in a while, to fill in the hole in the bit of back lawn which was first home to a Christmas tree, then to a plum tree and latterly to some not very vigorous acanthus. For which purpose we needed some soil. Now despite having a reasonable sized garden (although one of the smaller around here), there was nowhere where I wanted to dig a barrow load of earth from. First thought was to go and buy some soil from our local garden centre. Second thought was that this was likely to be three or four pounds a bag and I might need three or four of them. Not impressed. Had I seen a skip recently with something suitable? No. Next stop was the site of West Park Hospital, about to be redeveloped. Surely I could find something in their extensive and run-down grounds? Well, no. Partly because the demolition people had arrived and we were a bit coy about poking about under their noses. Next stop was the car park of Horton Country Park. Here we struck gold, there being some small heaps of rough top soil dumped there. Shovelled up a couple of bags, keeping an eye out for roving trusties. I would not like to abstract earth from Epsom Common, however it might of got there, the Common being a sort of Nature Preserve. But earth which looked as if it had been dumped by someone else on the Country Park was fair game. But which did not stop us being a bit furtive about it.

Back home to start preparing the hole. Starting by removing the stump of the plum tree, executed some years ago. Few blows with the trusty mattock and the job was done and I was puffing a bit. A mattock primarily intended for the demolition of buildings rather than trees, sourced from an old fashioned hardware store which used to be opposite the Surbiton Angling Centre. Now deceased. Next step dig out most of the acanthus roots. Next step sieve the abstracted earth into the hole. The first outing for my father's gardening sieve for many years. The earth was indeed a bit rough with there being plenty of stone, road and otherwise, odd bits of root, glass, plastic and metal. One and a half bags did the job. Although when we get into tamping down I dare say we will need the other half bag. More or less covered the hole with a scrap of chicken wire - my serious supplies had been left to my successor at the allotment - to keep the foxes off. So far, successfully.

About to enter into convocation with FIL about the best way to turn the filled hole into lawn. We will see how we get on.

All this while pondering about the difficulty we have admitting fault. Partly because, in the context of work, admitting fault can often be read and exploited as a sign of weakness. Personal trainers are apt to tell one not to do it. But a silly world where respected public and former public servants can assert that there has been no fault. So to my mind it is foolish for the boss of HMCR to claim that his staff have not made mistakes - this in the context of the recovery of unpaid tax. In large clerical operations there are always mistakes. Fact of life. And foolish for the witch hunted former boss of child care in Harringey to deny that she made any mistakes. Again, she operated in a complicated world and I do not believe that there were not things that she might have done differently with the benefit of hindsight. In the vernacular, mistakes.

Perhaps we could teach these people a bit more humility by making them do a bit of computer programming. Computer programmers know that they will always make mistakes, that to err is human, and so go in for elaborate procedures to find them out. There is no shame in making the mistake. The shame lies in not tracking it down. The point here being that the mistakes are usually quite unambiguous. No ifs and buts. The line of code is simply wrong, in the way that a spelling mistake is wrong, and needs to be corrected. One cannot pretend one has not made a mistake. Sometimes, sadly, it might be rather more than a wrong line. The whole concept might be flawed - but that is another story.