The gardener

Our house has a small garden which has newly laid grass. We lovingly nurture the grass and, following Jamie's mother's instructions, water it every day (or ask the ayi to do it). The result is that the grass grows visibly by the second and needs to be cut quite frequently. We duly procured a gardener but I rather suspect he is a rich Shanghainese who just happens to have a lawnmower and is doing a favour for the friend who recommended him to us. He does not volunteer to come but has to be tracked down and begged. He will not come if rain is forecast any time in the next three days. When he finally arrives, he shows up with a lawnmower wearing blue chinos, smart shoes and a quite decent looking shirt and proceeds to cut the lawn, trimming the edges with what look like paper cutting scissors. This is all he does. Things he does not do include raking fallen leaves, weeding, watering or even disposing of the pile of twigs we had collected following last week's exceptionally windy weather. Approximately half an hour after arriving, he departs with lawnmower, scissors and smart shoes, leaving the ayi to tidy up after him and do all the jobs he has left undone. I have no insight as to what exactly qualifies him to be a gardener other than possession of said lawnmower. It's a start I suppose.