There is something dead in the Utility Room behind or under the boiler (and totally inaccessible).
The pong reminds me of previous encounters with dead mice.
All we can do is wait and hurry through the stink.
I think they have got in via the water pipes or something.
Talking of wild flowers here are some from the garden - woodland area.
It is obviously a yellow time of year - except for the Dog's Mercury - a wild euphorbia.
And talking of times of year - what is this doing flowering up in the wood - not due till May.
Talking of birds - two mallard and a plastic heron,
and two jackdaws not quite knowing what to make of Doc, the dwarf.
And the wood pigeons are billing and cooing on the fence outside. This one seems very fat but it was a cold morning and obviously he/she (cannot tell) had had his/her feathers ruffled.
And, like much of my blog here is more rubbish from the tip in the wood.
Pond news - we have the invasion of the dreaded spirogyra, its green tentacles spreading through the water. I will have to improvise some sort of extended rake to remove it until the pond can settle down and plants grow enough to keep it well oxygenated.
It is weekly mowing now, sweet peas given to us by J are hardening off to acclimatise them to the chill in the air. The rhubarb is in fine fettle and ready to pull (and eat). We have daisies and dandelions in the grass. I have spot weedkilled the thistles in the lawn but it is not bowling green stuff so full of such as plantain.
So to Friday - too much happening.
The swallows are back.
Have been digging and composting veg beds again - the more muck the merrier. I have made a netting cover for the strawberries to try and keep the birds away. On the left the little bit of unmarked bed contains parsley In the other pic you can see the rhubarb thriving.
Today the septic tank service man and the boiler service man arrived - the sign by the gate is unreadable - so have repainted that.
The camellia given to us by J is flowering but has been caught by the frost browning the petals. The soil there is too limey (from when the house was built - mortar, cement etc) and the leaves have a bit of chlorosis.
Now, sometimes I sit in the garden in the shadow
of cherry blossom and try to understand the cruelty of man on man . . . and fail. Why does the quest for power, for wealth for so called righteousness and religious correctness engender such behaviour?
It is a sad mad world. (Where did that come from?)
Time for everyone to come and have cup of tea in the garden and talk of small things, ordinary things. I will bake some biscuits.
Mind you being the 30 Greats Grandson of Brian Boru (look up in Wikipedia) (and if you believe all the intervening ancestors were legitimate (that the stated parentage was correct (unlikely)) who am I to talk?
(I put that one in for G. in Dublin.) (Mind you her ancestors may well be Scottish so I chuck in Duncan 1st (never liked that play by Bill Shakey) and the Black Douglas for good measure.)
(Too many brackets).