Out with the old.

Our very nice neighbours are moving tomorrow - I've just been out to say goodbye and give them a bottle of wine. She was worried that it might be a little premature but I'm sure, after a hard day of moving, that they will be ready for it.
Are we going to have great neighbours? Will they have noisy dogs to frighten our hens? Will they have noisier children to frighten us?

We've been thinking of putting up a fence for a while but whilst the neighbours lived there we didn't need one as they were so easy going. Let's hope the next lot are as lovely.

Oh, what a beautiful morning.

Awake at 5.00am with bird song and daylight seeping into my consciousness I took a stroll around the garden, damp with dew and fresh with the perfume of Spring.
Yesterday saw a massive downpour at lunchtime. Thunderous drum rolls and cascades of sheet rain seemed to have banged on the door of the sleeping peas and suddenly there are handfuls of little shoots with their curling tendrils reaching for support and pushing themselves from their earthy beds into the light. I love peas, straight off the plant, the pod popped open to reveal fat, juicy circles of taste. No better way to eat them (once they've been checked for invading caterpillars, of course). As I've succession planted them we should be provided with peas for weeks and weeks. They like a good watering to make them even juicier so yesterday was their wake up call. Luckily for them they don't have to go to work all day but can just bask in the sunshine and grow.

Come rain or shine.

We've had both rain and shine today with equal frequency. I've been in and out getting the washing off and then back on the line. Any chance of it drying was quickly dashed by squally showers which seemed to come from nowhere. At 1.00pm we decided, during a torrential downpour, that the garden centre might actually be quiet due to the weather so we braved a soaking and dashed to the car. I had already softened the edge between my herbs and the clashing corner (the orange and purples where the tulips had waved their tall heads only a week ago before dropping their petals in a few days leaving just graceful stems). I'd had a severe corner between them both so cut away with the edger to make it more of a sweep.

Our hunch proved correct; the garden centre was quiet but by the time we'd finished our coffees it was getting busy so we did a quick tour of the seeds we'd like (wild flowers for the top strip behind the ch icken run that I'd dug over very roughly last week. Wild flowers thrive in poor soil) and then dodged the intermittent showers to choose two plants. I bought a Japanese primrose ( a lovely semi-evergreen Candelabra primrose) called Apple Blossom that looks like one of those English vintage cake stands; delicate rosy flowers on 3 different levels on a central stem and a striking Allium Schbertii with an enormous head of small purple buds at the end of 7cm stems, all radiating out to look like a globe. It's only an ornamental onion which reminds me,  it's always worth just leaving some edible onions in to set seed this year so as to multiply your stock of 'happy heads' next year.

I also realised that the lovely but huge Cephalaria Gigantea (Giant Scabious from my last garden) had either seeded itself or had somehow been planted in the black and white bed. It was crammed between a rose and a hollyhock; all three competing for room. I subscribe to the 'cram them in and let them fight it out' formula to encourage more growth when plants have to strive for room but this may just be a convenient idea in order to cover up too-close planting because I want so many shapes and flowers in the borders.
I suspect – no, I know, this to be the real reason but that's our secret, okay?

Anyway, I dug a hole at the back of the clashing corner, the only place I could really put it, and added some sand for drainage as the water I poured in the hole did not drain well. I then quickly dug up the plant and popped it into it's new home, banking up the earth around it and firming it down with the side of my foot. Once watered again I was satisfied that it was going to be fine there. Of course it now has it's head bent way down like a shy bride but it will soon perk up to the two feet high plant it currently is before growing to a giant 8ft by the summer's end.

I've had to put chicken wire around all my delphiniums because the chicks have discovered they like the taste of them and have already decimated one of the plants. Now my delphiniums are imprisoned behind criss cross wire to provide protection against pecking beaks. Whilst the hens were out in the garden Luke and I cleaned out their house, Luke scrubbed it down with disinfectant, I dried it off then it was dusted with red spider mite powder and a fresh layer of sawdust specially for animals was used for a soft landing in their house and a dry nest in the nesting boxes. It wasn't long ago that they had a spring clean but better safe than sorry.

A Sunday teatime treat of yoghurt (which they love although when they shake yoghurt off their beaks it often flies onto their combs making them look like measle-infected chickens.

Whilst typing this in the conservatory I saw, high up in the sky, the beautiful sight of a huge buzzard. He was soon joined by two black crows. We've seen this sight several times recently; the crows fly straight at the buzzard who at the very last moment, twists and turns away from the crow, tumbling and turning very tightly to dodge the attacking bird. It's so interesting to watch and I can't help but root for the 'big bird'. He seems to be doing nothing wrong but the crows soon send him on his way and he heads back, with them in quick pursuit, to the safety of the woods.