On a slightly chilly June evening, five Goodgymmers met task owner Michael at Woodside park to weed a flower bed.

The bed was full of beautiful plants but had been slightly overtaken by weeds. Michael advised as to which plants were weeds and which plants should stay, because to our untrained eyes everything looked quite pretty, really. But the Blue Alkanet and overgrown brambles had to go, along with the non-native beer bottles and energy drink cans. We also welcomed newcomer Sheril under the Goodgym "bring a friend" initiative - well done Latoya on your indoctrination I mean induction efforts.

The team got so stuck into clearing the weeds they didn't want to stop as 8pm neared. The good news is that Haringey council have agreed to maintain the bed once a month. So although we didn't finish the job we made a very good start, and can be confident that our hard work was not in vain.

So at 8pm our worthy Goodgymmers departed, to continue the evenings revels at an alternative location I regret I unable to divulge.

Ten Goodgymmers journeyed deep into the heart of Haringey's latest tiny forest for a spot of dregrassification.

Olfactory Blues

Our Goodgymmers ran a cool mile to the New Road Park Tiny Forest as part of the Tiny Forest Wildlife Count. Friends of the tiny forest met us there and after a temporary misunderstanding around whether Gramps was going to foot the bill for all the Big Fat Cats bonuses at Thames Water, we were pleased when Mina from the Friends group turned up with tools, bags, and clear mandate for our lot: de-weed this poor tiny forest so the trees get more of the rain water into their thirsty roots - whenever it comes.

Say no more. Our Goodgymmers pulled grass, yarrow, and dandelions to their hearts' content, while discussing the merits of medieval mead-making and the evolutionary reasons of why a little bit of pain is good for you.

All the while, Gramps was keeping a beady eye on the lookout for any sign of wildlife. Sam came to his rescue, in a way, when she alerted him to, as she put it, a very faecaly smell in the area she was weeding. Reader, she must hit the vulpine scatological motherload because we all had to move away from the area. All newcomers were warned to avoid Sam's behind because of the faecaly smell - 'behind' used here purely in its geographical sense rather than anatomical and in no way for comedic purposes at poor Sam's expense. No. Never.

After about an hour, our heroes stopped for the evening after a rather successful weeding session and we all headed home satisfied with a good day's work.

Boom.

Join us for another tiny forest expedition next week as we visit the folk at White Hart Rec.