THE GRASS IS RIZ

Spring is sprung. The garden is waiting to explode - cherries, plum, damson, greengage and pear all with bursting buds.

We still have broccoli and chives, will have rhubarb very soon.

The little birds is on the wing etc etc.



Then there is the longing to escape, the hammering of lead flashing, the drilling and cutting - it will be good to have the house back again.

The world is waiting. It seems ridiculous that we are past the spring equinox. (But not as ridiculous as politics in the UK.)

I got out the box of seed packets to organise what to sow and when.   
Some of the old ones went in the bin - I find old parsnip seeds are particularly unreliable - and discovered the packet of wild flower seed given to R in remembrance of Dorothy R. Now we have to decide where to scatter it.

R ordered an Eucalyptus gunnei from Sarah Raven in the autumn and it has arrived and been planted near the far hedge. So well packed the plant must have cost less than the packaging.

So I was up a ladder repairing the shingle roof on the bottom shed between light rain showers. Then I noticed the pond is now a bit shallow so - ??? Then I nipped my little finger in the ladder and have a nice bruise. Later I scalded my lip on hot porridge straight out of the microwave by licking the spoon. My knees creak, my back twinges . . . 

Enough moaning - 

The snowdrops are done so it is dividing and replanting time, the daffs are better than ever as are the primroses We even have an errant ragged robin in flower. 

 One of the delights of spring is the small green and golden saxifrage by the stream.




And the heaps of sticks just grow and grow, a habitat for all sorts of small creatures, but, as far as we know, not a hedgehog - but with badgers on the loose around here we may not get any.



How is the extension going I hear no one cry?

 Slow but steady I say though a loaded skip blocking the way in to the gardenias its downside (and its upside as I cannot get through there.)

Then they moved their van on Friday and the wheelbarrow can get through - shifting manure, finishing digging over the bed by the bottom shed, cutting back the willow, cutting back autumn fruiting raspberries and up at the back of the house my assistant gardener (otherwise known as the boss) is transplanting snowdrops.



And we have our first camellias, though late, and our first dandelion.