The Hipster Diaries #4 – Smartie free and smelling of roses

My mobility is coming on a treat. I’m down to one stick now and can generally manage without any sticks just pootling round the bedroom/bathroom. After days of the leg lifting exercise barely garnering a millimetre, I actually managed lift off today (twice so it was not a fluke). Having got myself rationed down to one of the big pain killers at night, I ran out today. This, I am advised, is deliberate but if I am struggling I can phone a friend at the GP surgery. I have decided to see how it goes and upped the ante a bit with the paracetamol. Fingers crossed.

After a couple of rainy days, the sun came back out today so I donned the swish new yoga pants (very comfy but I can’t see them standing up to a lot of grovelling on the ground) and swanked round that garden before breakfast. The rambling rector’s out now and making its way along the pergola with gusto. Some rambling seedlings I planted at the edge of the orchard are now not so much rambling as rampaging. With the rain yesterday to give everything a little boost, the scent is fantastic. Weeding still presents a challenge, so I diverted to dead heading for my daily garden achievement and have spread out some of the garnered petals for drying on the table in Luigi’s where I have my laptop set up. It’s pretty intense….

I managed a bit of potting on as well earlier, more chrysanthemums mainly, though I saw a very promising sprout on a clematis cutting I had given up for dead. The bit of root ginger I planted weeks ago next to a basil seedling now has both a leaf and a decent grip so that earned its own pot – as did the bit of lemongrass I stuck in to make it a threesome (that’s looking less healthy, but the roots look ok so I’ve left it in the greenhouse for some heat treatment). No trip to the glasshouse is complete without checking in on the fledgelings. I can count four now, by the sound of them quite stroppy. Keith called me down to the kitchen garden earlier to witness some further bird action. A hen pheasant was having a long and languid dust bath in his pea bed. The cats, who had been suspected of some illicit littering down there, have therefore been reinstated in favour.

All this wandering round the garden, unable to get down and weed or wield a spade, has given me ample time to admire the peonies, which are very much having a moment. Most of the ones I rehomed (from the herb garden and down by the greenhouse) last year have mustered a few flowers and are looking pretty content with the new gigs round the front. A good feed after flowering I think and then I can look out some more ambitious supports for next year. There are, however, still two double pink ones around the library bed that need more sun, so I’ll need to get my thinking cap on for those. Perhaps they can be part of the quadrant bed rejig.

Anyway I can see `Keith and Lachlan on the patio knocking back beer and crisps – a situation that is just crying out for an intervention (with wine)….