For the fourth year running, the swallows have returned! Last year I spotted them on 27th April, so they are a few days early this year. I saw a solitary swallow in the skies above Damson Cottage five days ago, and then, a couple of days later, it was joined by two more, and there was a bit of a fracas in and out of the laundry, where sits the solitary nest that was nursery to seven babies last year. The skies went quiet for a couple of days, probably because of the constant spitty rain but maybe because the swallows were checking out other, possibly more luxurious accommodation. Although how one can get more luxurious and accommodating than a warm laundry room whose owner obligingly leaves open the door for 5 months, ducking and apologising for disturbing them every time she goes in there, I do not know.
I like to think there is some sort of birdie housing officer who has a central Swallow Hub (probably a barn of some sort - plenty of room and rafters) and all the swallows meet up there after their long flight home from the southern hemisphere. I expect they have a bit of rest and relaxation - freshen up with a hot shower, then drinks and nibbles at the bar before a buffet lunch and watching something on SkySport. And then they can get to the business of staking a claim on The Original Home Nest. I reckon they can also make appointments to go out with a Swallow Letting Agent to look at potential sites for new nests because they can’t all go back to the same nest. Obvs.
‘Well, I know you grew up in the Damson Cottage Laundry property, but there are at least six other claims on it this year. How about the eaves of this lovely bungalow just up the road?’
‘But I WANT the family pile. I have as much right to it as my siblings. And more right than my parents because they are soooooo old and uncool, innit tho?’
‘This is true. But families can be very feudal about these things. Fill out this form explaining why you have more right to it than the others and if we can’t reach a civil agreement, we’ll go to sealed bids of best and final offers.’
Anyway, this morning, Nell and I returned from a jolly jaunt to the garden centre to stock up on some baby herb plants, only to be greeted by one ALMIGHTY noisy hoo-ha going on in and around the laundry, along with much swooping, dive-bombing and aerial battles amongst at least four swallows. I’m writing this sitting in the dining room by the patio doors watching the drama unfold. Never mind sealed bids - I think occupation of the nest will go to whomever can screech the loudest!
Aside from The Return of the Swallows, His Lordship Malarkey and I are making inroads into getting the garden back into shape after Winter. Andy is mid-chopping down an old and diseased apple tree, and I have been weeding borders. I doubt I shall grow much in the way of vegetables this year BUT I am going to grow flowers and herbs. They are considerably less faff, and after the few and very unsettled months, I can do with keeping faff to the minimum for a while. When we had the patio done last year, and despite my explicit instructions to the contrary, the landscaper uprooted all of my lemon balm, so I have bought four replacements. I bought, also, some lemon verbena, sage (two varieties) and dill. The selection at the garden centre was rather poor - I wanted some bay, tarragon and chervil. Therefore, I have resolved to raise lots of herbs from seeds and have dug out my Jekka McVicar bible (she is Queen of Herb Growing) and will order some seeds online. (I did try to stop and look at seeds at the garden centre but Nell was WAY too busy socialising with all her adoring public, so I had to give up.)
I’m beginning to feel a bit more Springy now. Here is Nell playing computer games. A habit I shall actively discourage.
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