LEAVES NOT SHOOTS

At this time the garden is overflowing with later spring flowers - the Lithospermum Heavenly Blue is especially fine but the backdrop of the foliage is also very important. We have deliberately planted grey leaved plants - Poplar and Wayfaring Tree and so on.

So all the images today are of garden foliage.

C is home from London and has gone into the wood with a groundsheet, a rug and a book.

It is a beautiful, sunny April day.

Two swallows have just passed the window and, I hope, are looking for a nest site - and there is a woodpecker giving itself a headache somewhere.

Some weeds drive one to distraction - nettles and brambles especially. I was clearing grass from around the shrubs and trees on the big banking when I grasped a tuft and YAROO! it was a nettle.

But the most pernicious weeds are creeping buttercup, ground elder, horsetails (though these so far have limited themselves to the pond area) and BINDWEED.

Monty Don - I quote the most professional amateur gardener in the country - got rid of his in a bed by completely removing

everything and then putting it back!

That strength eludes me.

Must nip for a mo'.

R has gone to church and the pork is done.

Spuds are in the bottom oven with a fresh sprig of apple mint.

Now, I had a can of Heineken

somewhere - even the worst

bloggers need refreshing.

So, what else - the saga over

the thousands of tree seedlings

goes on - and on - and on.

If we wanted we could have a forest.

Mr and Mrs Pheasant are up in

the Rhododendrons - she has a

nest there every year. he, poor old bloke,

has a bad leg and hops and limps around

guarding her.

I have rescued the prostrate

ceanothus which has just

survived the winter, pruned off the dead twigs and replanted it, watered it and fed it.

And we have finally buried Tilly. Her ashes have been in the bathroom cupboard for a long time and yesterday R decided it was time so I dug a hole by the Wendy House

and in went the small wooden casket. Today I painted a headstone with her name and have put that by the small grave.

At this juncture, in case anyone was thinking we have secretly disposed of a Grandma or Uncle that Tilly was our dog. She died about 8 years ago in Pembrokeshire and we had not, until now, found the perfect spot for her ashes.

You might ask what sort of a dog was she - well she was a sort of a dog - a bit of this and a bit of that.

She did once win a blue rosette at Roche Show for second prize as the dog the judge would most like to take home!