So, there they were, digging this hole, digging it round - no, digging it square - no, digging it teardrop shaped - in the rain - the whole of the bottom left of the garden has gone!
And though it is august the conker trees (horse chestnuts) are turning as is this Euonymus elatus (the winged spindle).
But then autumn brings fruit like these damsons - not quite ripe yet but nearly so. There are signs all over the place selling them so there must have been a reasonable crop this year. You can use them is so many ways - jam, puddings and, of course - damson GIN! Just add a little tonic and have a special pink one.
The strawberries have got completely out of hand with runners all over the place so I have been attending to this today, clearing the beds and chopping back the leaves and runners. They will grow a set of new leaves again before the winter.
The best of the runners have been transferred to a holding bed and then, when the tomatoes and broad beans are done I will move these new plants back and increase the size of the strawberry bed.
The old compost is coming on a treat despite errant nasturtiums.
I have been thinking about what to do with the copper beech hedge and if Gary does not want them (why should he) I have a secret idea afoot. (This will, no doubt, meet with the displeasure of the pond lady.)
We is tired old bodies being used to the quiet life and having all those people here but at least the end of the painting and ponding is in sight (I hope).
The hose is dribbling away down the garden and very slowly filling up the butyl depression. In this image - stream entry is on right, exit on left. Because the stream can suddenly get very full, even overflow, an allowance has been made with an overflow at the back from the little pond. Thus R's shed will not be washed away.
Cry of anger and loud knocking on window coming from kitchen - the local cat (well one of them) is trying to catch our small birds. According to the RSPB about 55 million small birds are killed by cats in the UK every year!
Now I know some of you (Ontario) are cat lovers but the birdies are getting a rough deal. I hear all the cries of fact of life and natural instinct and stuff but I still prefer birds - cats walk by themselves (R Kipling) and - well, I prefer dogs - they do not climb trees and the last time I saw a dog trying to catch a bird was on a Welsh beach and the gulls won every time.
Birds are dinosaurs, I hear.
Well, if a cat met a velociraptor - Mmmm! I think I have got into this too deeply and better shut up before extracting myself is impossible.