As soon as the sun shines there I am scrubbing the patio.

And after the clean up it's in the motor to the Potash Garden Centre to stock up on flowers-a-plenty.

And by jiggery jingo have we stocked...

We love the Potash because it's wide and welcoming and bulging with Begonias, Photinia Red Robins and many many more delightful flowers.

And I bought them all. Well not ALL but I've loaded a couple of trollies and spent many of our English pounds.

And all because of an improvement in the weather.

So, after stocking up on all kinds of flowers, I needed to add some quirky bits...

A silver coloured resin hare looking skywards, howling probably.

A green shabby chic three tiered plant holder.

A 30cm high robin infested bird feeder in the shape of an old log.

Big pots.

A ruby coloured dangling wind chime with touches of the East. Nam yehorengekeyo. I do need to unwind sometimes.

Like maybe now for example.

My step-son Mark aka Markie Boy aka Manager aka Top Manager has wrapped his right arm around my stooping shoulders whilst we listen to ENGLAND V. SWITZERLAND. We are already 1 down.

But being eternal optimists we KNOW Southgates boys will and MUST prevail.

Let me rattle off a few lines about my 21 year old shadow...

He is getting a new pair of hips in May.

He has waited eight months and it has been the most excruitiating wait. His dad, my partner, Rob has been like the dog with the bone. And a more ferocious pooch you won't find.

Once he'd sunk his teeth into the NHS he wouldnt, couldn't let go until someone somewhere helped his son to walk again.

Mark collapsed dramatically one day in the kitchen, his hips crumbling due to the after effects of radiotherapy.

After many long hospital visits, heated phone calls, emotional meetings and in a case of desperation last resorts and all that trawling the interweb checking out prices of going private we finally got a result...

The amazing docs at UCLH agreed to proceed with a double hip replacement. Thank you Mr Rajput.

It's been interesting. Devastatingly exhausting trips to London, numerous meetings with anaesthetists, surgeons, orthopaedic fellows and Wednesday's trip to London was particularly tiring on account of a major get together with all the teams involved with Mark's operation and after care.

Mark's Down Syndrome took centre stage during all appointments. Getting Mark's situation across to people is, to say the least, mentally  and physically tiring. Some people just don't get it.

But we did it. We got there. And in a couple of months, Rob, Mark and I will trot up to London to spend a couple of weeks in the caring arms of the guys at UCLH.

England have equalized.

 Back to the garden. Please.

The patio is crammed in a most delicious way with...Lillies, lavendar, miniature roses, pansies, a Forsythia and lots and lots of flowers whose names have left me. Sorry.

It's funny how a little blast of sunshine, a few bob spent on simple blooms and some good news on the family front has lifted my spirits to an almost drug like high.  

I must sign off now because Mark is nudging me kitchenwards and a big Indian takeaway has just arrived.

Feels good blogging again x

 

Pollack. Not good enough for Reg.

Wednesday is Grocery Day. Perfect parking. Trolley of essentials. Humour with cashier whose a Royalist and user of hair thickening shampoos. Barbie.
Thursday is Plumber Day. Mr Someone or whoever. Dyed chestnut brown hair. Huge teeth. Fair rates.
Then comes Friday Day.
A day for chilling, sipping and just generally loosening the clips from my hair!
A cool relaxing start to a Fab Weekend is assured.

Now into the kitchen I go to generally potter and make a Lemon & Poppy Seed Traybake. (Aussie recipe)
Talking of baking (do I do anything else?) I'll be tinkering with a newish version of Strawberry Cheesecake. Condensed Milk being a major ingredient. I'll glaze the strawberries (decently priced from Sainsburys) with melted and cooled jam, won't though have perky nipples of whipped cream all over the shop. Vulgar.

Really looking forward to the weekend.
Possible action outside so hope the weather gods take pity on us mortals by allowing the sun to shed warmth on our dried up old patches.

Talking of dried...I noticed my lower arms are looking a little crepey, so will, after showering again, slap on Industrial Strength Aqueous Cream. It's tested and Paraben Free.
While on the subject...
I consider myself quite fortunate in the Ageing Skin Dept;
My face is wearing well, no parchness at all and my feet are as smooth as pure glass.
Boo boos a.k.a Zonkies are doing alright. Holding their own in the War With Gravity.



Now I really must fly.
Good cooking waits for no man.
Talking of cooking and Man...

One of my male friends made for Mr H and I, a fish fing. Some kind of white fish (pollack probably) was mixed with various veggies, a sort of sauce and baked.
I liked it as did Mr H. but Male Friend who, from now on, will be known simply as Reg was spitting feathers over it, didn't rate it at all. "Disappointed" he said afterwards
And that's the trouble with Cooks/Chefs however many times their guests lick the plate, (incontrovertible evidence) the cook will never be satiated/satisfied.
There'll always be summat wrong with it.
And so it was with Reg and his Pollack.

Bless Him.


Cheerio!

I woke this morning.
Unfortunately!

Weathers being a real pain so am feeling incredibly frustrated at being unable to get wellied-up and in and around the flowers and birds. By the way I've ordered 10 lavender plants which will, I'm certain, be planted in abundance by the front door. Really looking forward to doing that. A lot of digging will be required to 'make good' the patch of earth/lawn near the aforementioned door but as long as the weather eases up I don't foresee problems.

Back to now...there's cooking to be lovingly done so will roast some beef and bake a crumble whilst keeping an eye on the snooker and....tomorrow.

Cheerio:)

Had a jolly good potter in the garden this morning and was joined by two robins.
As me and my gardening friend spaded and churned and planted and patted, the two robins gambolled, skipped, their capers making me smile. In awe mostly.
They bounced from tree stump to bird table to fence to water butt stopping stock still when either of us stepped a step. They exhibited a mad kind of braveness, flying close by to us humans and landing only feet away, one even watching me, his interested head and black bubble eyes burning into me as I gazed at a leek.

I don't do much gardening but when I do I become transfixed by the wonder of sodden earth and all the grubs brought about by tilling.

My friend and I finished the work and for a few minutes leant against the doorjamb, looking at my spindly brown youthful apple tree...I posed this question...."Where is the sweet flesh, the red, the green, the skin, the pips?"
My co-gardener looked a little bemused, stumped even.
"In its memory, I suppose".
And for some reason that twanged a chord, for a moment I saw the tree as a 'being' a living structure capable of storing memories. Memories. Some how I'll never bite into an apple with quite the same thoughtlessness again...

Being braised as I type is a nice gammon joint. The small beauty is lying on a mess of leeks, carrots and parsnips, and it's belly bathes in hot simmering stock.
I'll slice it a bit later and serve it with a couple of buttered potatoes. Mum will want mustard with it but I'll plump for onion chutney.
Pudding will be strawberry jelly and evaporated milk for Her Majesty and for me a quartet of digestives. Chocolate probably.

Cheerio :)

I Love Lucy

After a light bite to eat I sat in the garden reading my newest gardening book...And I came to the conclusion that gardening is like any other creative project...riddled with hard work, some failure, some success but most of all satisfaction.

The thing is when I read anything, be it cookery books or gardening books I always end up doing something daft like spending money on patty tins or shrubs. But oh the joy, the almost childlike joy of seeing something, whether it's a plant or pie, sitting on the table or gracing the garden step.

Talking of pies...I watched a fantastic programme on BBC4 called "If Walls Could Talk. Presented by the wild and lovely Lucy Worsley.
I'm sad to say I missed a couple of episodes but made sure I recorded the 'kitchen' one. I was entranced by it, by the way Miss Worsley presented it, bringing to life kitchen life since medieval times right up to now!
With her slightly wacko wit and fabulous clothes she entertained and informed and I loved both the programme and her.
What a gem.

It's true that the kitchen is the heart of the home, and if I were to give MY kitchen a medical I'd say it's in fair nick for it's age, has the ability to put people at their ease, and instils in me, a lady advanced in years, a feeling of hard romantic liaisons... mostly with the old grater.

www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-12483492

Graham and Eve

Blasted garden...

But it is looking better thanks to Graham and his ever ready loppers. I will need to buy an incinerator he said to make ash out of the fallen branches which will in turn go under the conifers...Which will then in turn be mixed into the soil to make a richer growing medium for my fruit and veg...WHAT! Just chop the blasted trees!

Blimey I thought as I stepped off the ladders if this is what gardening means then you can shove it. But seriously, he has done a decent job, and for little cost, well little to him maybe, but a fortune to poor old me. He has a property in Cyprus apparently, probably paid for by a host of ladies like me who would rather pull a muscle than pull a weed.

After decimating the trees we discussed my needs and wants...

He will work for four hours but only get paid for two, the deal being I help out as his sidekick. "I don't do carrying" I said. "Ok" he laughed. "You just bin stuff."
We sealed the deal over chocolate cake and tea.

I also bagged the cut price deal by going up his ladder. "First time a client has done that" he said

He talked interminably about his love of gardening how easy it is if you're keen...Planting times and seasons and tools were discussed, I of course know very little, so all I did was oooh and aaahh when he rattled on about his onions.

But credit where credit is due...

He not only trimmed the conifers with precision cutting but overloaded me with his knowledge about shrubs, vegetable gardens and apple trees. He is a keen gardener to say the very least, has had an allotment for a hundred years, that sort of thing, grows enough cabbage to feed a million rabbits and freezes a lot of sweetcorn...But....As soon as he mentioned fruit trees he had my undivided attention. I have a romantic view of fruit trees, apple in particular, I see myself walking barefooted into the garden to pick ample wet fruits, then, as if touched by Eve herself, turn them into plump sweet pies. Yes, definitely want to get my hands on a Bramley.

I also want a pear tree, Graham suggested having it out front, but I want it out back. And out back it will be. He showed me 'designs' he'd drawn, they were more like scribbles, but his heart is in the right place. "The roses could grow here" he pointed and I was lost in the glory and pain of it all....
I told him I wanted a cherry blossom tree on my frontage, he said he'd advise me on that nearer the planting time. Money came up again and I told him I can't spend more a few quid a week so I'd be eternally grateful if he could buy stuff plant stuff and manage my garden for £5 a week.
He looked stunned:)

But first things first, before the glorious planting of roses and herbs and fruits I need to buy an Incinerator.
I would therefore be mightily grateful if someone would buy me one. Lunch/dinner would be your reward and possibly a peck on the cheek.

Cooking tonight:
Shepherd's Pie
Spicy Beans
Chocolate cake and ice cream

It's Freezing!

Just had a call from the old dears, their new freezer has just been delivered. Like a flash I ordered Mother to dash out and buy ice cream. She said she would.

Talking of ice cream I gave in to temptation last night and licked two pecan cornets.
Which reminds me, I make a very luscious mango ice cream, so gorgeous served with coconut pinwheels.

Unfortunately no frozen products are on my agenda today unless you call diving into the freezer to access a ball of frozen dough for today's singular chicken pie worthy of being on an agenda. It's Singular on account of the aforementioned chicken pie being for Mr H only. I'll survive on cucumber.
My weight, by the way, is stable on account of cucumber.

But I'm not a saint and so for breakfast, which is running late by the way, I'll boil an egg or two. I fear not cholesterol.
Which reminds me fear is a dreadful thing.

On my agenda today is basically a load of cooking with a few outside activities to ring the changes. Namely trying to make space for Graham's ladders tomorrow. There is an almighty load of tree cutting (thanks to Mr H.) on the 'patio'. Patio? A few paving stones by the garage. Homeowners have it hard.

No but seriously I will move the deaded branches in the name of Health and Safety;)

But cooking is what I ache to do so after boiling a couple of eggs I'll make a large cake and a small pie.
Will, if time allows, watch a gory movie covered in a blanket. I feel the cold....

Wake Up Call at Tea Time!

Just walked around the garden and was shocked.

I've left my small patch to run a bit wild and now I'm paying a heavy price. That's why I bantered with Old Graham. Thought maybe we could come to an arrangement whereby he'd sort out the mess for very little or no payment. But it's not just the green stuff which needs tidying it's the detritus by the garage. Broken fence panels, broken lawn mowers and odds and ends of an oily nature all going to make an almighty eye sore.

Other ghastly items by the conifers....
Three legged tables. 'Twas a good table in its day.
Shelves. Pine but totally stained.
Paint from 1999.
Parasols. Blue. Wanted green.
Bricks. Found in the garage and used as hold-ups for aforementioned pine shelves.
Buckets. Large and ugly.
Bags of stones. Can't remember where it came from.
BBQ fork. Bought on a hot day no doubt.
Fish Holder. Bought when I was into Turbot.


A skip may be called for on account of the amount of rubbish and the fact that I don't know how to get to the council's recycling place. (Wouldn't get it in the car either)

The accumulating of general junk has always been a problem with me, just can't bear to throw things away even shattered planks of wood, holey buckets, long lengths of cable and stuff of that ilk.
But my brief walk around the garden has made me feel both angry and sad. Something has to be done.

Starting NOW...

Gloria in Destruct/Construct Mode.....

Lunch break aka skiving...

Popped outside to attend my shrubs and thought "Oh blow this" and came in for a nice cup of tea.

After sipping the tea I dunked some clothes in the sink, swirled them around with a wooden spoon and hung them outside. (I don't own a washing machine) And how they dance in the Essex breeze, little garments on a little line swaying to the sound of a couple of poopy pigeons....Hmmm

After agitating the old clothes I polished and puffed and tutted and huffed. Too warm for manual work I thought. So downed half a pint of tap water whilst checking the news and views.

It was warming up but...

Up up up I said and before one could say Hot Housewives I had a broom in my hand sweeping away crumbs and fur and all manner of detritus,

With broom in hand and sweat on my lip I answered the doorbell. A man with a clipboard stood staring at me. He was interested in my facias. As I am not interested in my own facias I told him to shove off.


For light relief I changed the water for my gloriously still alive Lillies, shook in the last of the flower food and breathed in their fabulous scent.
These have to be the closest thing to heaven-in-a-vase.

Monty is dozing by the boxes.

Cheesed up cream cracker crumbs are falling into QWERTY...


Blockhead!
x

Sabbath My Sanctuary

Cold pizza for breakfast:) I jest not. A first, definitely not a last. Bran Flakes too difficult to pour from the box. Toast? Who's got the time?

Weeding to do:( Being over-run by spiteful greenery. Tools out. Shorts and hat on. Several mini-breaks to wonder why I bother. Mother Nature is out of control, poor old dear, what she needs to do is to surf for Father Nature then they can toddle off and leave me to sit astride a plastic chair without a care in the garden.


Posing:) In the mood for flouncing and glossy lippy. If the pics are of an adult nature I won't post here. You DO understand.

Abdo torture yet to come:( Neglect one's tum by all means, but don't weep when you morph into Toby Jug Man:( Silly woman.

Chicken to baste:) Fowl, the most blessed of all Sunday lunches. Empathising with a fellow sentient being, I apologized to the plucked bird saying I have to eat darling and you're the cheapest.

I love Sindays:)

Want To See My Muscles?

Exhilarating is the only word for it.

Not only have I mowed through the forest in my side garden I've put down two further bags of gravel, dressed it with a veritable zoo of animals and birdies and placed Zachary the frog on a tree stump.
He loves it.

When I dragged the mower out I stopped for a sec and wondered if I should start, if you know what I mean. But as soon as the first mighty hills of grass fell and I saw a clearing it gave me the impetus to carry on! So carry on I did...
Now I can hang out my unmentionables without grass tickling my screaming knees!

I don't know if the birds love me or just see me as the pint pot lady with a seemingly endless supply of grub BUT I was not alone in my work.

A pair of grey Essex pigeons called Ron and Elaine got themselves comfortable on the feeder never turning a hair when I trundled up and down and along with machines and ornaments. Cocky I thought. Very cocky indeed. And then a blackbird danced a jaunty jig under the Japanese maple whilst I watered the carrots. I sooooo loved his company.
All I needed was a cat or two to turn up and I would have had the makings of Gloria's Ark:)

I soldiered on not stopping once for refreshment because if I'd have sat myself down on the step that would have been it, I'd have had a book out and a nice cup of tea and all my good works would have stopped. No doubt about it John.

More...

I'd made a space by some bush/tree I don't know the name of and thought how perfect it would be if I stuck a couple of chairs and old table down for those times when I rest....
So over to the dumpy bit by the garage where I found two decent garden chairs (not my first choice but they were free so...) and within seconds I'd wetted them with soapy water and plopped them down. Table? I needed a table. The enormous table that matches the chairs is in the conservatory so that wasn't coming out, took an age to get in!

The only table I could use was the one that the birds used to use...I scrubbed it, bubbled it up with bleach, rinsed it thoroughly and now it's squashed in between the horrible chairs but at least there's somewhere for old Glo to park her tea pot.
What else?

So after two hours of man graft, gritted toes (shoes got a split in the sole) and tiny tiny hole in my thumb, (Nature getting her own back) I mounted my cracking step in a majestic manner and gazed at my Wonky Wonderland:)



I've hung a truly beautiful Zen type windchime from the t.v. aeriel:)


Ta ta!

Like A Teddy Bear

Been walking around the garden.

There were a lot of bees fussing about and I liked that. Had a few ideas too. Thought I might move the bins out of the way, push them further along, down almost to the gate, then I can fill the space with plant pots, chairs and a few gnomes. But I'll need to kill some weeds first, don't fancy playing footsie with things that sting me.
The garden is spiritual at 7 in the morning, bit like me. Yes, I feel a project coming on. Creating something, however simple, is what artists have to do. And if playing with ornaments, pots of herbs and plastic chairs satisfies me, then so be it.
All I have to do now is find money and time.

The Last Post of 2008

Hello All.

As I have a few mins to myself I thought I'd post a couple of photos taken on Christmas day itself!
In the first picture I'm sliding down the settee whilst grasping onto a rather decent glass of wine, this decent wine being a gift from my employer. Thanks Ray. As you can see I'm very relaxed and at peace with the world but I was not drunk, oh no, because if I was drunk my glasses would be hanging on the tree and my rather racey blouse would be hanging loosely outside my skirt, but as it happens I'm as perfectly prim as Mary Poppins Ok?

Our day was a corker, we had a good beef roast and Yorkshire pudding, zingified carrots and parsnips, a mound of steamed cabbage, a couple of roasted potatoes and a spoonful of English mustard. Simple fare but done with aplomb. For pud we had a er...pud. St Stephen's pud to be precise, took three hours to steam and five five minutes to eat! Didn't bedeck the beautiful pud with ghastly Brandy butter but drenched it instead with a jug of proper yellow custard. See second pic.

I ripped open my presents fairly earlyish, so poor Monty was covered in shredded paper by eight, but he was fine. My presents included some Jasper Conran intimate apparrel, four bottles of perfume and loads of chocolates and booze! These items DID NOT constitute a boxed set and were entirely innocent in their complicitousness but oh deary me, they do so thoroughly belong together! It was all purely coincidental. I think I know what I mean, I hope you do!.
Anyway let me tell you about later in the day.

Later in the day, after eating out the nuts from the Tesco Cranberry and Nuts tub, I started reminiscing about all that's happened this year (not much more left) and I came to the conclusion that taken everything into account it hasn't been such a bad old year after all. I'd done things and attempted things which in previous years I'd always balk at doing. Things like attending a poetry group, ok so it was no good, but at least I bothered to go, and I tried for a couple of jobs, didn't get either but the experience made me realize I can be a non-lazy person if I really try!. I did manage to bag my cleaning job though and to Raymondo I'll always be grateful. And I don't think it's beneath me to swing a mop around.
Now people.

I've met some new ones this year, and each one of these disparate folk have left there mark, some marks being sweet, kindly and wise others more flamboyant and exhausting in an excited child kind of way. But they are all invigorating nonetheless. And although getting to know strangers can be fun I still crave my old American buddy, the Duchess. Her slicing humour and warm-as-pie friendship hasn't diminished over the years despite the big ocean and time thingy that's in the way. Yep, friends are good whenever they come and wherever they sit.

So...
Happy New Year to my special friends.
The Duchess, Minxy and the Dreamboat, The True Blue Sex Maniac and the master writer t'up North, Digger a.k.a Thrustbucket.
I hope you all be happy in 2009, I don't know what you really need or want but I hope you know what to do when you get it!

As for me I know what I want. I want a job.
A job where I can use my brain and not just my hands. A job where my undoubted creative skills can be of some use and a job which gives me not only cash but a bit of real joy every day..
That's not much is it?
Is it?

On the emotional front, otherwise known as the womanly front. I want to be able to say No and not feel the need to qualify it. I want to say 'Yes' and not spend the next three hours wondering if I was right to say Yes. In other words I'm going to be typical bird. All over again...

Things I'll definitely be doing in 2009:

Putting five pound notes away
Tending the garden properly
Decorating
Spending less time surfing and more time...
Swimming, yep pool trips are on the agenda, my waist has rocketed to 25 inches and as I'm so vain it's in at the deeeep end for the mopping midget
Writing creepy stuff, because I'm an angel who can be horrible
Talking to God more, the older I've got the more grown up and independent I've got and so therefore I thought didn't need any help any more. My language and loyalties may have changed but underneath the lipstick I'm still a girl. And to talk to God you need to talk as a child.
Wearing longer skirts
Eating more Spaghetti
Drinking Gallo white wine
Walking slower
Dancing shoeless like last Saturday
Exploring my softer side

See you next year!

Come Outside Doctor, It'll Do You Good

Essex man, Dr D.G. Hessayon the famous gardening expert, has said he's lost interest in gardening because he doesn't find it therapeutic any longer.

Dr Hessayon is 80 and I suppose when you've been doing something for donkey's years it can lose some of it's sparkle. But I find it terribly sad that a man, whose books have sold millions and given hope to little people like me, could have reached the stage where he no longer wants to potter outside.

I hope he finds another love, because passion shouldn't have a grow-by date.

Things I find therapeutic:
Friends.
Giving my love.
Writing
Cooking
Talking
Doing simple things well.

Poems

The haughty tortoiseshell cat with a neckerchief of shining plastic gold
taps his way over weeds and roses alike
he doesn't know any different.

His simple mistress with plain wooden beads around her neck
covers her feet in rubber
she knows the pain of vicious plants.

The gardener with holed trousers, joyous heart and spray in hand
tuts at them both.

*********************************************************************************


Once there was a donkey
who lived for the sea
his master the man with the hat and jingling bag of coins
would plop children on the donkey's back and shoo shoo him along
the donkey could often be found at night under the free range sky staring at running glistening crabs
wishing he was free to run too.

*********************************************************************************************************************


Lonely Mr Plainer held up a picture of his daughter to the bare blazing light bulb
he was looking for her heart.

***********************************************************************************************

Simple Pleasures

*Leapt for joy when the metal skewer went clean through an old Tupperware cake box because now I could plant on a couple of tomato plants. I'd been pushing stuff out of the way in my disgraceful garage in order to find some plant pots, found a few, but not nearly enough, so not being one to give up easily I left the garage and headed to the kitchen. Nothing in there but an old tupperware box.

*Stood stock still when a strange tabby cat leapt over my already damaged garden gate. We eyed each other. He was unsure and so was I, so we stared at each other, our eyes fixed, mine on his beautiful head, his on my appalling outfit. He legged it. I said 'cheerio pussy' and lifted my soiled hands to my shorn head and thanked the gardening gods for this sweet moment.

*I found a shoot of a long dead Clematis straining to keep erect, being a romantic fool I looked at it wistfully and thought Mother Natures a determined old girl, but I'll lend her a hand to so I got a tie-back and er....tied it back to the drainpipe. I'll be watching it.

*By this time I'd had two cups of tea.
*Monty growled at a pigeon on the ariel.
*He then got on my lap and I ran my fingers through his long black and grey hair. I wanted to eat him. But that would be cruel. So I let him smell my scent and dig his claws into my thighs. Happy puss.
*I've been thinking about things today and not all domestic.
*Am listening to music as I write this and feel like standing on the chair and whooshing my skirt about.
*Monty is asleep.
*Here's something I wrote for lady gardeners everywhere

Gather your skirt into simple folds
and tuck them between your aching knees
swish a soiled hand around your face
feel the falling dirt land upon your nose
taste it as it lays upon your lips
And do not resist the urge to remove your clothes and run in and out of the bushes
Give in to the desire to dance around the Japanese Maple
feeling the weight of your wonderful unbound breasts
you'll stretch with secateurs
hop with the how
and laugh as you wield your lopper
Enjoy your work...

Flouncing With A Chain Saw

Tomatoes have sprung up. Well a few half inch seedlings are poking their grubby heads above the dirt. C'mon boys me salads a-waiting...

Planted some small flowers the other day, can't remember what they're called, got them dead cheap, bought them because I wanted to save them from the hell of being left on the shop shelf. They look lost in my garden, but they're huddled together so at least they'll have each other for company.

While I'm talking 'green', put some white flowers, (can't remember the name of those either) in two plastic terracotta pots on my doorstep. They look a bit funny sitting either side of my ghastly white and glass door (God how I hate my door) anyway, there they sit, waiting for the postman, the meter reader and the beanpole of a paper boy.

Will have to do something about almost everything in the garden, I have to say I'm guilty of an awful amount of neglect and I'm now paying the price. I've never been a polish and duster merchant when it comes to gardening, because neat gardens scare me a little bit. Have always preferred to have a bit of the wild stuff. Suffice to say, the weeds have had a field day!

Being small and tender I tend to opt for growing things in pots, I just can't seem to do the digging thing. However I have no such qualms about chainsaws. Love those.

So what did I see just now as I took me bin out. Lots of shrubs planted over a period of ten years, a few wonky bird feeders, a lopsided bird bath sitting behind a flouncy Japanese Maple, a couple of broken fence panels leaning against a couple of sturdy Conifers, a good length of damaged hose pipe lounging under the washing line, my pair of robust taupe suede 'gardening' shoes propped up against the water butt while Jessamy the gnome looks on and laughs.

On my busy agenda today:
Flouncing around in a sun dress and straw hat trying to look capable, the making of some kind of general cake whilst keeping one eye on a beleaguered Gordon Brown at PMQ's, also might chainsaw the tops of a few bushes.
I might also write something.

Whatever you're doing today, do it with all your heart.

Big Trees, Big Plans and Little Gardens

Peered down through smudgy conservatory windows at tiny daisies.
Looked up at trees and thought 'conifers need doing'.
Got chainsaw out.

Flicked through flaking recipe books.
Stood in living room and stared at new curtains.
G. called. Spoke at length about his big plans. He's very excited. Pleased for him. Took joy in another's happiness. How infectious good things are.

Peered through smudgy windows in every room.
Thought 'all my miniature patio needs is a wash'.
Made a cup of tea and ate a coconut biscuit.
Might plant something bright and yellow to lift me up when I'm down.
Must tidy my little postage stamp of a garden.
Can't bring myself to kill weeds though.
Will buy plastic frogs and gnomes next time I'm in town.

Put Tomato seeds in. Bit late but cross fingers I should have some Roma plums by July.