The garden looks like it's five months into No Mow May and the gardeners, I assume, have become bear snacks. Or they will, because the workshy fuckers have yet to turn up or call us back, which I guess means they don't want to do the garden but in that passive British way, they won't tell us that, they'll just agree to call back (never).
I didn't like them anyway, since they had trouble discerning between the actual garden plants and the not actual garden plants (aka weeds), which I think is an essential skill for a gardener. Also, they would often leave having half done the garden. It's really not our problem if you didn't leave enough time before your next job. I guess we nagged them once too often. Or I'll find bones in a couple of months' time and feel bad. The bears are hungry this kind of year. Or maybe they went to the top and the yeti got them. I warned them. Beware the pampas grass.
Where now in the stage of ringing others to have them not call back. Ironically, the one that did ring back, did so to cheerfully tell us he's moved back to Poland, thanks.
I did think the bear had eaten the last window cleaner, but it turned out he'd simply given up window cleaning to take up smoking dope full time.