Tim Dowling's wife has hired a gardener, 'Gardening Steve', to put the garden in order, a move that leaves Tim to tackle the long-neglected kitchen table. Despite initial objections, Tim finds the arrangement surprisingly liberating.
A Reluctant Agreement
Tim's wife wants to hire someone to sort out the garden, knowing he will object because it is something he should be doing, but also knowing he won't do it. Two months without rain had wreaked havoc on the garden: the lawn turned the colour of a winter sky, seedlings vaporised, and established shrubs died. When the rains finally came, the garden bounced back, but by then Tim had lost heart.
As part of her campaign, his wife has let it be known that paying someone to fix the garden is no reflection on him, because he's a businessman with little time to devote to things of the soil. Tim questions whether this will ever be held against him in the future, and his wife assures him it won't. He simply doesn't believe her. She tells him she has already found someone who is coming Monday, and suggests that with his free time he can finally do the kitchen table.
The Kitchen Table Project
The kitchen table was bought 30 years ago from a workshop that was throwing it away. Made of four old roof rafters knocked together, the top needs sanding down and refinishing about every five years, but Tim does it on average once every 10. His wife reminds him that she bought everything he said he needed for the job three years ago, but Tim says he still needs specific sandpaper.
His wife refers to the hired person as 'Gardening Steve' rather than 'Steve the Gardener', and Tim wonders about the assumptions behind the name. On Sunday afternoon, Tim compares the sandpaper he just bought with the footprint of his electric sander, finding that the sheets say 'Universal Fit' but there are three sorts of universal. His wife asks if he'll be there at 11 the next day for Gardening Steve, and reminds him to charge the hedge trimmer, as Steve doesn't bring his own.
A Reluctant Workday
The middle one helps Tim move the table out onto the lawn, where he spends the afternoon trying to sand off the grubby, gummy top layer, with ill-fitting sanding sheets flying off the sander sporadically. It begins to rain, and he calls the middle one to help carry the half-sanded table back inside. Tim admits he forgot how much he hates this job, and his wife suggests he can do the rest when Gardening Steve is there, which Tim finds unthinkable.
The next day, Gardening Steve arrives and begins work after a brief tour of the garden and its failings. Tim finds it's not shaming to have a much younger man stand on top of his ladder and hack away at a dead clematis; it's actually a relief. As long as Steve is there, Tim can avoid the kitchen table. The only problem is that while Steve works, Tim has to work. He can't just sit in his office shed staring out of the window because there's a man out there cutting back a wisteria that has wound its tendrils around a spade handle left leaning against the wall six months ago.
Tim tells himself he's a businessman and should look at his screen and type. Steve barely takes a break, and under these circumstances Tim puts in a relentless six-hour writing day. He gets a lot done, but by 5pm his concentration is shot. He finds himself, slouched and glassy-eyed, watching Steve pull up thick-rooted weeds on the other side of the open door. Before he can stop himself, he speaks.
Tim tells Steve he doesn't have to eradicate the weeds, as long as they can't be seen, and mentions that the tortoise likes them, so he lets them grow back. Steve acknowledges this and resumes his work, and Tim reluctantly resumes his. An hour later, Steve knocks on the glass and says he's off, and will be back probably Wednesday. Tim thinks he has Tuesday off, then remembers the table.
