The last few days have brought a speck of sun and it has driven the weeks of mud right out of my head. I look around at the green spears of emerging buds and tiny pulmonaria flowers straining up to enjoy a little warmth and wonder why on earth I’ve not weeded all the borders yet. There is blossom on the old plum tree and a sea of snowdrops underneath. Daffodils on the bank are opening and along the back track and tucked into all sorts of improbable crevices we have the warm glow of old fashioned primroses. Here and there the fancy primulas in brighter colours are beginning to emerge. I can see the floury heads of cowslips starting to uncurl in the orchard and the first purple drumsticks are stretching out by the pond. Hellebores shine in the slanting morning and evening sun and there are jewel like specks of blue where tiny scilla are emerging down by the wall.
Love is in the air down by the ponds. Most days we have to rescue a few lost suitors from the cundy and the frog and toad male voice choir is performing morning and evening. Whilst the lads are yearning, however, I have seen many a portly lady frog trying to take evasive action behind the stepping stones. On the home front, Keith played a blinder by taking up the blatant hints in my last blog. I was also the recipient of a large bunch of roses. Raymond next door remonstrated that this sort of largesse was letting the side down but Keith was able to reassure him that they were sourced from the Co-op on the 15th for the bargain price of £1.60.
I have been trying to dig out and split up congested clumps of perennials before the garden gets away from me but it is heavy work. Laura has helped with the extraction thank goodness, but then there’s the replacing of the compacted clay and digging through. After replanting there’s barrowloads of chipping to put down as mulch. I have found that two days of this on the trot more or less wipes me out (I expect I’m doing it all wrong) so I’m trialling “day on, day off”. My hip has been bothering me for a while so I rejoined my pilates class to see if that would have help. It seems like I have become all wonky and misaligned down the left hand side. When out walking the dog I make sneaky adjustments and watch my shadow for signs of slouch. Well, it might work….
Even in the sunshine there’s a snell wind, so on the days off I’ve been assuaging the guilt by making experimental soup and cake (various recipes uploaded for anyone interested). This may not prove the best way of getting rid of the lingering kilo, but it is quite lovely when you come back from wrestling in the mud with hemerocallis or a wind blasting along the river. (Lyra adores a windy walk and can’t see what the problem is, but is willing to take her turn at cake tasting anyway, just to show willing.) And on that note – I’m off to stir the latest batch.
