The Coventry anti-climax infernal combustion engine

There's been the remains of a greenhouse piled down one side of the garage at the bottom of the garden since we moved in. Last autumn some time, those remains were joined by bits of a concrete trough, some wall and an amount of broken soil-pipe.

That end of the garden has been looking somewhat scruffy therefore. As opposed to the rest of the place which is still only mildly scruffy.

Normal people would have taken their wallets in their hands and chartered a skip or something, rather than ignoring it until it was a vast mental edifice of terrible possibility and hateful failure.

Of course, now that it's all gone it's still a scruffy garden. I was expecting a larger sense of something-or-other, though. Bother.