Well I’m totally there for the not toiling and spinning part, it has been far too hot and humid of late, and, frankly, I also doubt that Solomon in all his glory looked as splendid as my lilies. So, just this once, I’ll go along with the Sermon on the Mount. (The bit about settling out of court was sensible too. As an observation on litigation risks “Truly I tell you, you will not get out until you have paid the last penny” hits the nail on the head.)
Tomorrow is the day we usually open the garden for a big open day, with teas and buns and the soaking of grandads in the rose garden (organising a surprise squirting by the elephant fountain being a prized entertainment for anyone under 10). This year though, we are keeping the place to ourselves. The original plan was to use the time to get the paths relayed, and that is now maybe half way through, but the usual festival of weeding was somewhat impaired by the hip replacement and, all things considered, I’m not sorry we won’t have field full of cars tomorrow. However, despite the twining sticky wullie and the half laid paths, the old place is still looking (and smelling) lovely and I have collated a few shots from the last few days so people can have a virtual visit. To make it feel authentic spray some rose and lavender perfume around, sort yourself out tea, a token sausage roll and as much cake as you can balance on a paper plate and squirt your companion’s legs in an embarrassing place with cold water.
(I should perhaps just add, we’re still doing “by appointments” on days we are around for Scottish Action on Mental Health – details via https://scotlandsgardens.org. Tea and buns and leg squirting available on request)
As I’m increasingly hale and hearty, and now able to both bend down and get back up again (it’s been down only hitherto), weeding has finally been resumed. I’m hoping for a decent day tomorrow to tackle the gravel garden, where an annoying creeping thing has wound its way into various places it has no business being. The agapanthus there are just coming into flower and, by the buds, it looks like the early spring dierama feeding has paid off. It seems only fair to clear up the weeds to give them a proper showing off. This should also lay bare where there will be spaces available later on for the cistus, salvia and perovskia I am currently bringing on in pots (to let their roots develop a bit before permanent planting out). I may have got a bit carried away on the cuttings front (again) so that bodes well for next year’s plant sale I guess…….
Mum and I have been deadheading like Henry VIII and the roses keep on coming. The view from Mum’s bedroom window is just a sea of flowers. I’m still drying the rose petals – you never know when an unexpected need for confetti will emerge from the undergrowth – and have started on the herbs. Mainly just thyme and lavender so far, but I’ve been keeping a close eye on the marjoram and that will be just right for picking any day now. I’m smugly organised this year – with a dedicated clothes airer deployed for all my drying needs. (The hooks on the wall used previously had an annoying habit of coming unstuck and leaving crunchy bits everywhere).
Anyway, mission control has sent a Gin O’ Clock warning and it wouldn’t do to be late so I’ll have to leave you now and tell you about the new trees next time!
PS the butterfly is a comma – have seen two this year which is unusual (for me). Sadly the bugger wouldn’t open its wings but they are an orangey red with dark spots.
