So here we are wrapped in vortices - love the word - it's going to rain, the sun is out, no it isn't, yes it is, my hat's blown off, I'm soaked, I'm cold, feel the warmth of that sun . . . . I'll mow the lawn, the wind has dried it, you can't it's February, the grass has never stopped growing, D is here for a chat, I'll put it off, it was a long chat, now it is dark, another day?
Today's weather forecast was gales and rain so I am looking out on the garden bathed in sunshine. I have cancelled golf and am going shopping for stuff to make a pork stew, pay the paper bill and get my watch mended.
In fact also made marmalade with R's mother's recipe. Yum! - No I did not grow the Seville oranges as our climate is tooooo cold.
All this has nothing much to do with the garden so STOP RAMBLING LAD.
This is our flowering quince already glowing by a sheltered wall. It's fruit are not edible up here but the flowers are a treat.
The flowerbed manuring is almost done so then I will mulch the shrubs and finish the veg beds. The compost heap needs a good tidy and I have still not got planks and such for new stream crossings, bed edgings and so on so must get on with that.
A fine day helps, between the climate frenzy - R has pruned the buddleias around the septic tank so the service engineer can get to it. When they grow - summer on - they hide the thing. I have finished completely the manuring of the flower beds around the house and cleared some of the fallen sticks plus the dead stems of the wild angelica from further up the garden.
When the sun has shone today it has almost (I say almost) felt like spring in the sunshine. Having only light wind helps.
The snowdrops get better every day and the plan to have large areas of the woodland under flower is working. The first image shows the bulbs by the path up into the wood, the second using more localised planting, here by an old stump.
I have just bled onto my keyboard!
When I was making marmalade, see above, I cut myself on R's super sharp knife. I put it down and it bounced up against my finger.
To help heal my finger I am partaking of a small can of Heineken lager. This is, of course, not a topical treatment but taken orally.
Outside my window dusk is approaching and there is not a breath of wind, the birds are fed up and the feeders empty.
You know, gardening is rather like a long race where the opposition keeps getting further and further ahead and all one can do is hope they dally at a feeding station so you can catch up - what a load of rot. As a multiple marathon runner - you can claim anything on the internet - I have never run further then four miles and that was five too many - I bet Mo has not shifted as much manure as I have.
Now there is a thought - not another one I hear you cry - I could get the British athletic team to come and shift my manure, dig my streams etc. It would be good training for them and I could supervise from my seat whist studying the pros and cons of a good wine.
I could even borrow a Cryolab Sports cold chamber (they do not get into cold baths after running any more) from my friend PB. This would not be for the athletes but to keep the wine and beer cold. (Cannot afford champagne)(Anyway Prosecco is much cheaper).
Time to go before I get lost up my own vortex - another Low pressure system on the way - such is fate.