Monday, 12 June 2017


Do not let this photo fool you - this is a surprise burst of sunshine. The dried up stream is chunnering again, full of water and more rain expected.

Found some old seeds so just nipped out before it starts again and sowed them - broad beans, french beans and rocket. Nothing may come up but we will see. I have also pruned back the willow surround own the compost heaps - a pretty daft idea as they grow like stink and probably take a lot of goodness away.

R has been dead heading the roses and such between sending her book to agents and so on. The petals from the roses I picked for the vase in the hall have been dried as a pot pourri. Put them on the Aga and got told off as I did not put a towel underneath to stop the lids being scratched.

The feeders have been inundated by small birds - mainly house and tree sparrow fledglings. The tits and finches have had to go around to the kitchen feeder. Mind you they scatter when the squirrel and woodpecker arrive.

The blue tit on the right cannot get a chance - outnumbered.

Here on the kitchen feeder the bullfinch and greenfinch (good to see as less frequent this year) are tucking in without being molested, though you cannot keep the sparrows away completely.
I disturb a very young robin in the primulas by the pond and then a large frog. The latter leaps into the water and submerges. The ducks have stopped coming, perhaps young on a nest elsewhere, so the water is clear and I can see the liner, bulging here and there with water that has got under neath. Time too heave in a mother rock or two to weigh it down?

 Now foxgloves - I know - a wild flower but it outdoes so many so called garden flowers. It self sows as a biennial so if in the wrong place pull them up. But I love them, in the wood, on the banking, even in the flowerbeds.

There are a few good yellows at the moment - day lilies and calendulas though my favourite is the rose Golden Showers. We have two, this one was a free plant, the other came from David Austin Roses. Hello - woodpecker is back, fledglings scatter. Then there is a crash and a wood pigeon thumps into my window. No wonder they are a favourite food for Peregrines.

And so to this photo of red hot pokers and the crambe. The former my father's choice, the latter my mother's.
This blog has got long enough so off for a cup of tea and watch for the rain as the washing is on the line.

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