He'd just spent the morning pruning his tomatoes for the nth time (he said the next time will be the last), and was complaining that he had to look after Angelo's allotment as well as his two.
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...the banks all green with celery, the endive rejoicing in a rivulet; the cucumber snaking amidst the grass and swelling to greatness... (Virgil's Georgics IV:120, trans. C. Day Lewis)
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