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Slated!

 Some days I know what I’m going to do, and some days I don’t. Today was a ‘don’t know’ day which had the potential to become mediocre and dull BUT just before lunchtime I had a rush of the proactives, took myself off to the greenhouse and sowed some runner beans, marigolds, sage and tarragon, and watered my hundreds of little flower seedlings. The greenhouse is filling up now so I can’t sow anything else, not in there anyway.  After lunch I decided it would be a REALLY good idea to sort out the shed at the top of the garden. It’s a big shed so, theoretically, it should be easy to walk in there and find exactly what one wants when one wants it. However, this has become not the case of late and the shed resembles what I call a clutter bucket, and for someone who likes a bit of order in her life, this will NOT do.  And what with the return of the sunshine, I decided to empty the contents of the shed onto the grass, give the empty shed a jolly good sweep out, evict a few spiders and reins
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Wisteria, Posteria and the Rambling Rector

The rain returned last night and Nell and I were drizzled on this morning when we went for our walk BUT what could be a more cheering sight when the weather is dull than this: Yes, once again the wisteria has put on a fine show for us! It smells delicious, too. The wagtails have been wise in their chosen nesting site this year. (And talking to my neighbour a few days ago, she reported that a second pair of wagtails have built a nest up the other end of the wisteria, too!) The wisteria is now branching outwards away from the house and it’s possible to stand beneath it and not get wet in the rain. I’ve thought about installing a pergola across from the house to the laundry for it to twirl itself around but that would mean the swallows wouldn’t be able to access their nest. And that would be very sad. Mummy Swallow is now sitting on five eggs, so we should have some babies in the first week of June.  Yesterday, Andy built a mini pergola for the Rambling Rector to, well, ramble around. I t
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Channelling My Inner Heron

 When I wake up I always look out of the window to spot the First Bird of the Day. It’s a weird habit, I know. I like to think the habit as having meditative qualities, setting me up with a gentle, thoughtful start to the day. That’s my excuse, anyway. Usually, First Bird of the Day at this time of year is a rook, a crow, a blackbird or a swallow. Less often it will be a robin, a wren, a sparrow, a tit of some description, possibly a finch (chaff/green) or a goose.  But this morning, a bloomin’ mahoosive grey heron hove into view!  One of these! Not this specific one, obviously, because my pyjamas do not have a handy pocket for a phone/camera or other useful photographic device. But it was a grey heron and it glided (glid? Gload?) across the field in front of me like a stately galleon heading out to sea in a light breeze.  Nell and I sometimes see a grey heron or two when we go for walks along the canal. They sit on the towpath, they spot your approach, they sit a bit longer (clearly t
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Peter Rabbit, Rambling Roses, Guacomole

 Today, I went to my favourite independent garden centre and bought this for the Floramorium… …a little stone Peter Rabbit, complete with bunch of carrots. There were three bunny ornaments from which to choose but the other two were wearing little dresses, which seemed ludicrous. Peter Rabbit came home with me, then, and is now perched above where Sidney is laid to rest.  I purchased, also, eight lavender plants for the border beneath the front window, a penknife, some hormone rooting gel, and two ‘cor-blimey-how-much?’ black metal rose supports for the rambling roses ‘Shropshire Lass’ and ‘Mortimer Sackler’. It was touch and go whether they would fit into my tiny red car to bring them home but I was determined not to be beaten and with a bit of wriggling and jiggling I was saved the embarrassment of having to return to the pay desk and ask for a refund. ‘Rambling Rector’ who sits between the other two roses has, however, gone beyond being supported by a standard frame and needs someth
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New Toy

 Well, not ‘new’ new because, as has been pointed out to me, I tend to wax and wane when it comes to The Next Amazing Thing I Want To Learn About, so it was probably sensible of Lord Malarkey to buy this… …a pre-loved (or as it used to be called in Ye Olden Days ‘second-hand’) microscope with a set of pre-loaded microscope slides to get me started in exploring the world of teeny-tiny things unseen by the human eye.  I can’t remember what it was that made me think it, but a while ago, something clearly piqued my interest and I said to Andy, ‘You can buy me a microscope for my next birthday or Christmas, if you like,’ thinking both dates would be far enough into the future that I’d forget what I said and a surprise would ensue on the day. However, he decided to jump the gun and gave me this as a random day gift a couple of weeks ago. Of course, this means I now have to think of something else ready for when he says, ‘So, what would you like for your birthday/ Christmas?’ which is slightl
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Odd Jobs

I’ve no idea why, but this morning I was gripped with the urge to sort through the Christmas decorations. They live in the cupboard under the stairs and every time I open the door, the incumbent mess tries to escape. It’s like some sort of creepy, festive cupboard monster living there, and today I decided it needed sorting out. It didn’t take long once I decided to be ruthless, and Nell helped. One full bin bag of Christmas tat = half an empty under stairs cupboard - hurrah!  Bolstered by my success I decided (and yes, I realise this was a foolhardy decision) to pull out the TV cabinet and clean behind it. It was more of a wrangle than the under stairs cupboard on account of the plugs and leads and tangle of extension cables, and it was less glittery on account of the lack of tinsel. But, armed with dustpan and brush, vacuum cleaner with crevice nozzle attachment, anti-bac wet wipes and a microfibre cloth, the job was done, and I’ve had words with the maid and told her not to let it ge
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Il Compleanno di Bambino!

  Buongiorno! Come sta? Oggi, c’è il compleanno di Bambino Bobble Wilson, il mio gatto nero. Lui è sette anno. Well, autocorrect didn’t like me doing THAT! Mind you, autocorrect doesn’t like me writing correct English sometimes. Autocorrect knows nothing.  Today is Bambino Bobble Wilson’s seventh birthday. He is all well and ticketty-boo, thank you for asking. I’ve been allowing him to venture outside this week, what with the weather being pleasant enough to leave the back door open. He has confined his cautious perambulations to the courtyard and laundry, and sitting proprietorially on the back door step, eyeing up his potential kingdom. Occasionally, Nell will spot him and give chase but she has mostly been up the top of the garden with me, climbing into the hedges in pursuit of birds. Her, not me. I’ve been continuing in my efforts to cut back the overgrowth, and doing rather well, although I do say so myself.  I was on my knees in the final patch of ground elder on Wednesday, givin
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