These lyrics, from the Hippopotamus Song, are clearly lost on me. I fail to see anything glorious about wet, dirty, sloshy product unless it is in the form of a face pack.
Two thirds of this family unit enjoy the whole gardening experience, whilst it is largely lost on me. The end results of manicured lawns and flowering beds I am all for, but the actual arriving at that point is not my thing.
Now, I am no Don Burke (for those of you who remember the 90s and the cottage industry of visually impaired knitters), but I wouldn’t have thought that mowing the lawns and having a bit of a tidy up entailed water and dirt. Apparently though I am grossly mistaken. In order to knock up a batch of mud pies, one needs one vital ingredient...mud.
So with a plumbers’ in hand (or tracky dack as the case may be), one set off to engage in this all time childhood rite of passage, whilst I went in search of the napisan.