MURK AND WORK

Out of the murk comes November, winding the garden down etc etc.

Actually now begins one of the busiest times of the year - need (unfortunately) does not equal desire as far as moi, diggings and stuff goes. 

The bulbs are still waiting. 

Today I must fix the windmill - the metal pole it is on is too flimsy and I will need to attach it to a good stout fence post. 

Today I must replace the broken tie on the left-hand hawthorn as it is leaning towards the small oak (that R wants removed elsewhere so the view up the garden from the pond is uninterrupted). (I have just chopped the glace cherries for the Christmas cake and popped them in the bowl with the dried fruit and sherry.)(Well I ate only one.)(R has gone to church and left me this huge task.)

Yesterday I emerged from the house to find A and J examining then pond and outflow. They obviously feel some responsibility for their handiwork which is good, some pride in it. When Gary returns so will they - I have found more for them to do.

The garden proceeds on into winter - the leaves are all off the ash trees now though there is still colour with such as the liquidambar. Yesterday leaves were swept and R cleaned the slippery paving by the front door (which is still at the back) in the rain with the Karcher. Logs were taken in for the woodburner and this was lit in the evening. Some of the fallen twigs - we get a lot off the ash - have been stacked up in the wood as places for wildlife like hedgehogs and small rodents to find winter sanctuary.

There is still a lot of colour in the garden though the nasturtiums have been removed from the compost heap in preparation for its use. They have been plonked on the other heap to make more compost. Hostas and other perennials going over are being tidied and consigned to the heap.

The leaves above are one of he azaleas in the woodland edge.

Then there are more exotic, less hardy plants that are still flowering like this Passion Flower.

I still feed the birds (and the rabbits though the latter not willingly).

Oh! And I found a clump of HONEY FUNGUS near the beech hedge. I fear it is endemic and all we can do is pray. If the dreaded ash killing disease reaches us the struggling trees will be easy prey for this fungus. 

Still, we would have a lot of logs for the burner then and ash is a good fuel.

So, as the finger of the hour drags ever remorselessly towards the top of the clock and the rumble under my belt signifies I am getting dehydrated, it must be time for a little fuel for my soul.

What I mean is I am going to have a cup of tea.