On the basis that you should get the 'orrible jobs out the way first and look forward to the nice ones, I got the canes out the car and made up three wigwams. This is a hateful job - once the canes are firmly pushed in the ground, poking the top end of all six canes into the round holder is tricky in the extreme unless you (a) have seven hands and/or (b) are approx a foot taller than I am.
I had more success than in previous years, however, as I devised a temporary - if wobbly - bridge across the bed edges to elevate me 6". Still a tricky one, but doable.
No sooner was that out the way then the next hateful job was to hand - whizzing the string around the wigwams. What a chore. This cut short, however, when the string ran out.
I felt that I deserved the nice job of seed sowing after all that puffing and stretching and faffing about, so I forked and raked over the bed nearest the shed, and sang 'la la la', as I daintily made three seed drills for sowing PARSNIP (clare) with RADISH to mark the row; CARROT (autumn king), displaying optimism over experience; and BEETROOT (bolthardy).
That's enough to put a smile back on your face. And more so, it being now lunchtime, I hoiked Chris up from down the bottom and had a enjoyed beer with her in the clubhouse, before heading home.