HIPS AND HAWS AND EDNA

In the beginning there was rain and the grass grew and the grass was wet so no mowing could be done and it rained and the grass grew and it was wet and the grass grew etc etc.

So I began the task of trying to reclaim the garden from entropy - scything and shearing, weeding and raking, sweating and swearing (a little at times) (like when I fall over or get pestered by flies.)

The Eucryphia is stunning in the sun, the Japanese anemones abundant and six feet (nearly two metres) tall but the sweet peas are disappointing. 

We have hips and haws and plenty of berries on the skimmia by the back door.

There is always the question of using the rosehips for something. When I was a boy it was Delrosa rosehip syrup - full of Vitamin C. I no longer have the badges I got for collecting the fruit.
Now the only real use I can think of is to remove the seeds inside and use them as 'itching powder' - most effective down the back of someone's collar.

Purples are doing well - the lace cap hydrangea up by the top hedge, the buddleias - and the hebe at the back.

This allium, I think, is sphaerocephalon fully out. Earlier it has a tight head with a green top.

Pests have been not too bad this year despite the wet summer (not rabbits and squirrels) with one exception being the hosts - normally pest free where they are but this year well chomped by molluscs.

I went down the garden yesterday to get some courgettes only to find gert marrows. Not that I mind as I like marrow. Cut in half longways, take out the seed core and stuff with well seasoned lamb mince and onion. Tie up with string and bake in the oven.

Talking of anthropomorphic broccoli - 

A tight white perm in a green collar

turned up against the heat,

hair so brittle it might crumble 

under the drier if overdone.

Usually Edna emulates her friends -

planted in a Thursday row

in Ida’s steamy salon

reading Homes and Gardens,

slowly growing rigid curls,

good enough to win a prize -

crisp and curd white 

above their cheddar smiles.

But now she has cast aside

her pristine Calabrese,

defies her white roots

and sprouts a purple-tinted rinse.

Best steamed?