Thursday, 13 March 2014


Having received considerable comment at me getting R to slave away in the garden, down on her knees, I post another image - this time she is transplanting snowdrops in the green up in the woodland fringe. Whilst she was labouring away I was picking up a few sticks and then made a cup of tea - this we drank sitting on a seat by the house. It is very useful to have a grand grafter in the family (makes up for me!). I just give her her little pink plastic trug, she dons her gardening gloves, grabs a hand fork and off she goes. She does not need winding up and runs on tea. Robots eat your heart out!

This is the view in early March up the garden from beside the pond and below the view of the house on top of the lower banking from the same place.

One of the joys of the spring garden are the clumps of small daffodils carefully placed on a corner here, at the foot of a tree there, in forgotten places after the leaves have died down.
I have plans to do more of this all across the garden. I will use the smaller bulbs as the big daffs and narcissi are better, I think, in swathes across the bankings.

Whilst I am writing I have some classical stuff playing - Canteloube, Chansons d'Auvergne, George Butterworth's A Shrospshire Lad and Che Gelida Manina by Puccini. The latter sung by Beniamino Gigli was a favourite of my mother though she also loved the singing of William Heddle Nash.
I love this music though I might suddenly change to Don MacClean singing Empty Chairs or Howling Wolf and Spoonful!
On the way down to the Wendy House we have a bank of evergreen Euphorbia now unfurling its flower heads. R loves this display and they go on for months. There are a few montbretia (crocosmia) here and an ornamental pink flowered strawberry but these latter plants are being shoved out of the way.
I will have to tame the invasive euphorbia as it tries to come up through the paths.

This small shrub covered in pretty flowers is a corylopsis - each individual blossom is a delight, it flowers before most others and does not have the harsh yellow of the common forsythia. (I know, there is a pale yellow one.)

Now I will probably be sued for adding this fantastic cartoon by KJ Lamb which I  have nicked from The Oldie magazine (a sort of cross between Private Eye, Punch and Saga magazine) but it is wonderful.

I will delete it if requested (some chance - no one from The Oldie, nor Mr Lamb is likely to read my blog.)(Unfortunately.)

No more to be said today.

I shall now depart and take a slug of something good, perhaps Irish whisky like 12 year old Redbreast?

Do you ono it is almost impossible to type with a slur.

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