I am back at Swiss gardening boot camp. Yes. My 75-year-old Swiss neighbor is doing my gardening in her high heels. Again.
Yesterday, she knocked on the door to ask my husband to help her with driving directions but since we all know she has a GPS, this was really just an excuse to get inside our apartment.
Anyhow, after getting the directions, she went onto our balcony and analyzed every bush and plant that needed weeding and every concrete planter that needed shining. Then she started yanking out one of our dead plants by its roots.
“I love doing this,” she said, grabbing at the dead evergreen while never once wobbling on her high heels.
We are now borrowing (not out of choice, mind you) her pressure washer, her hand held weed wacker, and her little garden saw.
Her tools are better than ours, we are told.