If an Englishman’s home is his castle, then his lawn is something very precious indeed. I’d imagine that a lawn equivalent that you actually keep in a castle would have to be something like a virginal damsel with one of those pointy hats. Hence you wouldn’t want the local riff raff getting their grubby mitts on either your fair maiden or your closely, cropped turf.
Stretching this tenuous metaphor to it’s very limit is the only way I can explain why some people choose to ‘protect’ the verge outside their house with big white rocks. They are the crenellated, outer bailey wall of today’s semi-detached, dorma bungalow. I hate them.
I took these photo’s whilst on a site visit to a plot adjacent to this narrow drive (generally the less said the better). The problem being that it was so narrow that you couldn’t stop without blocking access to the rest of it. Shame you can’t park up on the verge…
First of all I think this looks a mess. But I also think it’s laying claim to something that is owned by everyone and not just yourself, i.e. the highway verge. It’s akin to people leaving nasty notes on your car when you park outside their, and I’m pleased to hear that some Councils are starting to take action against it.
