Gardener's back

Oh my aching back.
And feet. And legs.
It's mountain goat territory here (well, mountain rabbits) so clearing the banks of dead scrub and blackberry canes before the bushfire season has to be one of the least glamorous and most exhausting jobs ever.
But damn! It looks good now.
What could be more satisfying than a head-high pile of crap waiting for the next green waste drop-off day? (I could burn it, but I like the idea of it all being chewed into mulch and spread across some other garden somewhere.) Not everyone can get such enormous enjoyment from a huge pile of sticks - it's a pleasure confined to those with bush backyards, house framers, and firewood merchants.
All that excitement even without the chainsaw. Next time I'll rev up the Beast as well. I tell you, the fun never stops around here.
I'm still ignoring the annual weeds near the house. I figure it's better to let them get big enough to pull out without bending down too far. But before they run to seed. O, the delicate balance of nature - or rather, perverting the course of nature.
In the veggie patch, the raspberries are sending up runners everywhere. I fear I may have introduced a virulent pest to the Yarra Valley region. Just shows you how easily the buggers can get away from you.
This evening we cooked up the last few big leeks from last spring - I left a few in the ground months ago, because I quite like the flowers, and the stems spilt and multiplied into smaller leeks. I had no idea they'd do that. So now I've transplanted those (they are about a finger's width) and at the same time put in more tiny seedlings so I should have an almost continuous supply.
For once, I planted the seedlings the way you're supposed to, digging in plenty of compost and then making a thin trench with the edge of the spade and just laying the leeks in there, leaning against the side. Then you water them in. Maybe a tiny sprinkle of soil to cover the roots.
It doesn't matter if they keep leaning, apparently, as they will right themselves.
We'll see.
A very satisfying weekend, enjoying the results of my own labours: leek and potato soup, salad, fresh herbs in scrambled eggs (courtesy of the chooks) and finally rhubarb.
Not to mention those huge piles of sticks.