FOGEYING ON

So we are back from my reunion - 53 years after graduation down the 'Pool. Covid made us all three years older. 

And the Annabelle has collapsed in the rain, the grass still needs mowing, all the currants and raspberries are inside blackbirds and thrushes, and it all seems a bit surreal.

One of the first things I do after returning to the garden is to walk around and note - what's died, only one shrub, what has grown and then have a cup of tea. We came back via the village of Downham that R remembered from many years ago but wasn't the right place when we got there.

The magnolia grandiflora, threatened by R as it was not flowering, has flowered - big short-lived scented creamy blooms.

And down across the pond Pam's rose is clambering through the hedge. We call it Pam's rose because my much younger partner Pam R gave it to us when we first moved in.

Plants in the house need watering and hidden away in a kitchen cupboard when R is looking for something for the evening meal we find a couple of potatoes. "Stick 'em in the garden," she days and I will - if it would stop raining.

My old friend P from New Zealand is over so I am posting this photo of our flax for him and the agapanthus we saw so much of in Auckland is now beginning to show its best, though I seem to remember we had a white one two and I have no idea where that is - perhaps another casualty of the winter.

The plum is loaded and I regularly remove any dodgy fruit - in fact may have to thin them out though the tree does some of that itself. Nothing better than a ripe juicy Victoria plum straight off the branch.

And the devil is back, Lucifer blazing forth its bloody petals.

So I look out of my window at the pouring rain and what with Liverpool and the weather it reminds me of an old joke (groan!)

A teacher in Liverpool was asking the children what things were and turned to one small lad, "What is thistledown Johnny?" she asked. He had no hesitation in relying instantly, "Rainin' like bloody 'ell Miss."