Oh, My Days!

I took my life into my hands this afternoon, taking this photo. Parent Swallows were VERY cross about me accessing MY laundry, the space of which I have generously given over to them for the nest building and raising of their babies these last couple of months. Blimey, I even went in a couple of days ago and scraped their poo off the floor. Anyway, here is the latest state of play regarding fledging… Two out, three in. I wonder how the babies manage to look so cute and yet so cross at the same time. I wonder if there will be a second batch of babies like there was last year.  Shortly after taking this photo, the skies opened and we had a massive downpour, which was good because it saved me having to water the garden. I also got to admire the new patio, because when wet, the slabs change colour and it looks even prettier. The new dining set is arriving tomorrow so fingers crossed for some lovely weekend weather and the chance for some outdoor dining. I also fancy to take my laptop out t

 Here we are, then…the finished product!  And now all I need to do is start arranging the many pots of flowers hither and thither, and plant up the two beds. This may take some time - I expect I shall do a fair amount of dithering about what goes where. It’ll be fine. I like a good dither. And I’ve got some poached egg plants on the go in the greenhouse which will provide some lovely ground cover for the bare spaces either side of the steps and around the oil tank. After a futile search in various garden centres and DIY shops yesterday for a patio dining set of suitable quality for a new posh patio, we ended up ordering a set online from a company called ‘Lazy Susan’ which is based in Kent. It should arrive sometime in the next two weeks. Andy was very savvy and found a discount code for 10%. I’m on the look out for some lovely cushions for the chairs.  Peace has, thankfully, descended on Damson Cottage once more.  Except in the laundry where this rowdy bunch are bursting out of their

We decided to go out today, His Lordship Malarkey and I, because of the whole doing the parking dance malarkey with Dan the Landscaping Man and his piles of building stuff and his van and trailer. Better out the way altogether, we thought.  So, first thing we went to a garden centre to assess patio furniture, and came away with a) a great sense of disappointment at the options they offered and b) a bundle of ten garden canes because the tomatoes are going all flop in the greenhouse. We returned to town as I had a dental appointment. I was due a check up but this coincided with a very back tooth having a bit drop off it about three weeks ago. The tooth has been heavily filled over the years so I wasn’t surprised. At the dentist I wasn’t impressed to discover my usual dentist had left the practice and my care had been passed over to a newbie chap who looked about 12 years old. Mind you, more and more people are looking 12 years old to me nowadays.  The new chap inspected my very back too

 I wouldn’t want to be a landscape gardener in this hot weather. Even with the benefit of the breezy effects of the Cheshire Gap wafting across the fields. I couldn’t do with all the being outside in the blazing sun with my shirt off, hefting great lumps of limestone paving slabs around, wrangling large sleepers into place, mixing load after load of cement, creating as much mess as humanly possible… So I didn’t blame Dan, Charlie and A.N Other (name still unknown) calling it a day at 4 p.m today. I was relieved to feel the blessing of the ensuing silence, too. There’s a lot of noise and dust involved in the cutting of limestone and chunks of sleepers. I don’t do noise very well. ‘It’ll look amazing when it’s finished,’ I keep telling myself. First World middle-class problems, eh? I mustn’t complain give what’s going on in the rest of the world. And I’ve arranged for a hamper full of baked goodies to be sent to Gill and Don, our neighbours, by way of saying thanks for putting up with al

 I remember when we had our kitchen revamped at Damson Cottage. Progress on the first three or four days seemed very slow to me because, of course, a lot of groundwork and preparation has to be achieved before the pretty stuff can happen. You go to work thinking, ‘Ooooh, I wonder what it’ll look like when I arrive home this evening!’ and then experience that gentle sinking feeling when you discover it’s not that much different to the previous day. Because of the very necessary background stuff that’s been going on. Same with the construction of a courtyard patio, apparently. Today was more groundworks - sorting out the two access points to the soakaway that goes with having a septic tank, laying the hardcore base for the slabs, installing more sleepers for the steps and the new herb beds.  Photos from two angles, still avoiding showing you the chaotic mess on either side. That hasn’t changed. The mess. I am turning a blind eye to the mess because I know major garden works requires mess

 Arrived home from work today to find our driveway half full of dumpy bags of building materials, limestone slabs, and sleepers, and the other half full a massive lump of a truck and accompanying trailer. I nudged my car as far into the grass verge of the road side as possible and prayed it wouldn’t get walloped by a lunatic driver whilst it sat there.  Around the back of the house, chaos had arrived in the form of Dan the Landscaping Man and his Trusty Assistant Charlie. There was STUFF everywhere. Rubble, rubbish, bits of wood, a whole building yard of tools, wheelbarrows and cement mixers…and noise, too…lots of loud noisy noise.  This is the prettiest current view from our back door. I dare not show you photos of the areas to either side of this for fear you think we had suffered a bomb strike. I told myself that order comes from chaos. Always. Quite frankly, I was glad that I hadn’t received any phone calls during the day announcing something nasty had been found under the old pati

 For the last couple of weeks I’ve had a bee in my bonnet about not having paid enough National Insurance contributions during my working life in order to receive the full state pension when I become eligible, which will be in 2032. Sheesh, why am I fretting about something that is over ten years away? Anyhoo, I don’t know why I’ve been thinking about this, and it is only a small bee, but it has been a bee nonetheless and I needed to do something about it.  Now, in order to ascertain my current National Insurance contributions, I needed to access (dramatic drum roll accompanied by deep booming voice)… ‘The Government Gateway’… (bom, bom, BOM!). Easy do, I thought. I registered for it when I was self-employed. In I went. Message pops up. ‘We’ve deleted that account because it hasn’t been accessed for at least three years.’ Well, no, because quite frankly I have better things to do with my time than lurk around in a Gateway belonging to The Government.  Would I like to reset my account?

 It’s been the hottest day of the year thus far, and what do I do? I do gardening, that’s what I do! I’ve been at work the last three days so needed to get out there and play catch up. I was very good - wore my sun hat and quaffed gallons of water. At one point I took time out to lay on the grass under a tree and watch the birds swooping back and forth overhead. Then on with work. There’s lots of watering to do now the veg are a-go-go. A bit of weeding, too. And, most importantly, planting out my over-abundance of flowers into their final display pots and tubs.  I’d hoped the patio would have been completed by now, but the beginning of the project has been delayed so it is not, which means the newly planted flowers find themselves squished up on the area in front of the patio doors.  I’m hoping for a completed new patio within the next two weeks so I can spread the pots around a bit. But until then, at least I won’t have to spend much time walking around watering. Stand and swish, that

 If I could be bothered to be bothered I would say I am LIVID that ex-Labour Prime Minister Tony Blair WC (war criminal/ water closet, you choose) has been given a knighthood. I signed the petition to protest against this happening and I don’t often sign petitions unless they are for the protection or defence of wildlife and animal rights. I could also say that I am sighing with weariness that Nicola Sturgeon is AGAIN bleating on about a campaign for independence for Scotland when, quite frankly, I think England should start its own campaign for independence. It works both ways, you know, and I think Emperor Hadrian was on to something when he built his wall to keep out the Picts. Just saying. I also cite the hideous screech of bagpipes and the vileness of haggis as reasons we should break free from Scotland. Goodness knows what other awful habits they have that haven’t yet revealed themselves.  However, because I am an increasingly spiritual practitioner of this thing we call Life I c

 I’ve never bothered growing peas before because, on a domestic scale, they take a lot of time, effort and space for very modest returns. However, this year, in the spirit of ‘Let’s Grow Everything!’ I sowed some seeds in March, planted them out mid-April and today, picked the first of the harvest!  Just a couple of handfuls. There are more to come, of course, but, like the raspberries (which we started picking earlier in the week) they start slow and then rev up production as the days go by.  Shelling the peas took me back to my Gran’s kitchen where she would park me on the back door step with a large colander of peas to pod for dinner. Oh, the satisfaction of a perfect ‘pop’ from a nicely fat pod. The thrill of counting the number of peas inside, all nestled together in their snug green bed. The occasional moment of  ‘eurghhhh….’ when the pod revealed a little maggoty worm creature that had got their first for a pea feast. And the joy of eating a fresh, raw pea - so different to anyt

  No, it’s okay - it isn’t snowing chez Damson Cottage. I am using this photo purely for illustrative purposes because I wasn’t quick enough to take one for posterity this morning. See that tree in the middle? It’s a bay tree. It was planted as a mere twig of a thing when we first arrived here six years ago this EXACT week. Since then it has reached heady heights and bushyness despite my aggressive pruning techniques. And this morning it was over 7 feet tall and probably 4 feet wide.  I said to His Lordship Malarkey this morning, ‘You know what we need to do this weekend, don’t you?’ and he said, ‘What?’ and I said, ‘Dig up the bay tree because the landscaper is arriving on Wednesday to start building our NEW patio and the bay tree does not figure in the plans.’  And the next thing I know I am looking out of the landing window at the bay tree thinking, ‘Goodness, there’s a high wind out there buffeting the bay tree around,’ and then I realised the buffeting was being caused by Andy, wh

 Today at work I was rained on all morning and steamed boiling hot in the afternoon. Such are the vagaries of the British weather. The promised thunderstorms failed to arrive, too, and I suffered three more insect bites to add to the two I got yesterday. I’ve spent the evening reading up on Best Natural Insect Repellents (because I don’t want to spray myself with Deet products from March to the end of September) and it seems I need to get hold of some lemon eucalyptus. Which I shall do as soon as possible because I am fed up with being a moving smorgasbord for vicious little bugs.  Anyway, back to the day at work. I was with a couple of our gardening gals potting up some marigolds for a floral display when a shriek went up.  ‘Denise! Denise! What is THIS!’  And one of my gardening gals thrust in my face an upended (and very pot bound) marigold plant she had just turned out of its pot.  Now, you have to bear in mind that the lovely gardening folk I support all have learning difficulties

 Goodness! Where has that week gone? I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the Platinum Jubilee Weekend  celebrating the reign of our wonderful Queen Elizabeth II - all the pomp and circumstance, the pageantry, the music, dancing, the quirkiness and eccentricities that come with being British. And as for that little sketch between Her Maj and Paddington Bear - well, it was quite the most delightful thing I’ve seen on television for ages! And the drone light show at the end of the Jubilee concert was brilliant. In fact, it was all rather brilliant. Yes, I am a Royalist and long may it all continue.  Heather and Ollie returned to Kent yesterday after a week of scooting around Shropshire looking at areas to house hunt in when they return permanently in eight weeks’ time. They left behind two boxes of books (medium), one motorbike (large) and one cat (small) who hasn’t quite made up his mind about his Uncle Bambino but at least he is tolerating him. Bambino is very keen to be friends. He’s been trying h