Monday, 27 March 2017


Where to start, the lovely daffs are flattened by the snow then the snow melts and we have water everywhere, stream overflowing, pond brim full. Even the mallard drake takes refuge on the shed roof.

I paddle around in my boots trying to stay both off the grass and upright. The British weather! Sun one day, snow the next. It is a good job the snow goes quickly despite the drowning of the garden.

The compost heap, now emptied, is a soggy mush, puddles where my boots have been.

I wander back along the paths and head for the pond. There is not much I can do as the rain falls onto the slushy snow.

The bird bath under the feeders outside the kitchen is catching large drops from the roof. The weather does not, however, seem to deter the birds from feeding, stuffing their beaks with seed and peanuts.

The first pond pic is monochrome - how the day feels - the second is of rain.

So to cheer this miserable blog up here is our first camellia.

On the other hand a pair of grey squirrels back - beware all nesting birds.

Everyone is talking terrorists after the London attack. What is a terrorist. Gerry Adams said at Martin McGuinness's funeral that he was never a terrorist but a freedom fighter. I suppose the definition  depends on one's point of view?

Finally we have a better day. R is out transplanting snowdrops, Im have pruned the bay by the kitchen and the lace cap hydrangea in the woodland fringe. It has developed two suckers. Then I cleared grass from the redcurrants (the ones I hope the blackbirds will take and leave the others alone) and took yet more sticks to the bonfire. I then tried to light it with minimal success. On the way in I pulled some rhubarb for the evening meal.

It is next morning and it must have been the rhubarb.
Strange dream - I now, R says I have them - finished a round of golf with only one club in a small bag having left the rest somewhere out on the course and then running around in my underpants trying to find them pretending to be an athlete. (Very unlikely - being an athlete I mean.)

The tree rats are back - must get out the trap.

Finally managed to light the bonfire so now everything, and me, smells of wood smoke.

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