Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

This is part of the herb patch, the buxus is growing into a low hedge and the fennel is streaking upwards at a rate of knots. I've purposely let the chives flower as they look so pretty and a stray sea holly has planted itself at the front. Nature is a much better gardener than I am, for sure.

A literary tale.

This is the view crossing the river Fowey. Just to the right of the road is the house that inspired Manderley in the book, Rebecca. Daphne Du Maurer lived here and her love of Cornwall helped create many of her  book settings such as Jamaica Inn and Fisherman"s Creek.

It's a white out.

How amazing it is to know there is a drastic change in the weather forecast but to still not believe your eyes on awakening to it?
I called Luke this morning to see the beautiful scene from one of our bedroom windows. It was a like a Christmas card (especially as our neighbours across the road, in their chocolate box house, have decided to leave their blinking Christmas decorations up all year! I'm guessing they find it too much of a hassle to unhook them from the front of their house each January but it will look out of place if and when we experience a heatwave (see, hope springs eternal!).



The sky was a very pale rose-white, the trees - a row of skeletons dusted with icing sugar and the roads, well the roads were a skating rink that only the bravest four wheel drives were attempting to drive along.
And how slowly those fat flakes of swirling snow fell. It was almost as if they were enjoying their slow descent from the clouds and wanted to elongate it by taking a longer circular route. Silently it fell and surprised all of us by blanketing the ground with a carpet of white.
All four bird feeders were put into action and food hidden under the steamer chair for the ground feeders to peck at.
The first to visit were five blackbirds, their silhouettes standing out in contrast to the virgin snow. They've made a crinkly edge to the fence where they landed in the snow and knocked it off.
Next to come was a fat thrush and a robin, quickly followed by the finches - gold, green and crested along with the chaffinches.
We also had the first visit from a single wagtail, twitching in the snow and looking like an Everton mint. At one point we had twelve finches fighting for a place on the sunflower feeder and then the Jay, a flash of cerulean blue and beige, glided through the sky.
We took lots of photographs as the morning light brightened the day and the rosy hue disappeared, leaving only a mass of white everywhere.
Finally, two collar doves gracefully and softly beat their gentle wings across the garden sky and a large wood pigeon landed on the hammock and then plodded into the snow, looking for food.
I sat indoors with a breakfast of pain au raison and hot chocolate and enjoyed the show.

The white stuff

Oh how ridiculous it must appear to people in Alaska when good old Blighty is forecast a few inches of snow.
I went to the supermarket at lunchtime and as I was at the bakery counter I heard one sales girl say to another, *We're out of fresh bread already today*. So much for the 'Keep calm and carry on' slogan that is appearing on everything from tea towels to mugs. Nope, everyone and his dog seems to be buying up bread and milk and stocking up with bottled water. We're only forecast two days of snow!
Luke can't wait for the little hens to be out in the snow, Ive cleared away the ice sheets from the bird baths (although I expect it will be frozen again by the morning) and we'll ensure that the chickens have access to the dry ground in the greenhouse and plenty of high fat food to keep them warm.
Fortunately we can just enjoy the snow here tomorrow as it's my day off but on Saturday I need to venture into the city centre for an event I am hosting. Let's hope the trains are running.
I'm hoping we wake up to a frosting of snow but I'm guessing it's going to be more than that. Check out my 2010 Christmas photos for he last big freeze we had. Luke and I trudged over snow bound fields to buy a turkey for Christmas as our road was cut off and after that the visitors who were meant to be staying couldn't get out of their own drive in Cornwall.

We shall have snow.

Very glad am I that the fork and I got acquainted yesterday as at least the raspberry patch is turned over. I started in the quagmire under the tree that has been compacted by six pairs of chicken's feet as well as those from the wood pigeons and robins that eat the spilled seed from the feeders hanging from the branches. When I turned the soil there it came up in great clumps, and there was a multitude of worms wriggling their heads or tails (who knows which end is which when they are so tiny?) in the newly exposed daylight. When I did my annual trick of unearthing several spring bulbs I decided to leave it all alone and just tidy away the deadheaded detritus. Even just an hour in the garden produced an entire binful of garden waste and made the garden look much tidier.
Not before time too as only a few hours later the snow fell, slowly and silently against the inky blackness of the winter sky. It hasn't settled overnight but we are expecting a few frosty starts this week. Nature will break up the soil with her frosts and the bulbs will start pushing their shoots up. Not long till the first snowdrops appear, I hope.

Roses grow on you.

Luke recently had to house a huge amount of red roses for his workplace. We only had them here for one night but I did enjoy feeling like all my Valentine's days had come at once.
Ole!

Nuthatch, frozen bird baths and the last of the tomatoes

It's six am on a Sunday morning and still very dark outside. A thought has just occurred to me, the clocks may have gone back an hour and if so I am totally unaware of this. We are always forewarned of this twice yearly but as I don't tend to read the newspapers or watch TV I have no idea if British summer time has now ended. The outside conditions tell me it is no longer BST though. The leaves on the oak are rapidly drying out and their varying shades of amber and brown are the last colours they will be turning before they sail away on a brisk, nipping wind and tumble gracefully to the ground. Soon the mornings will be frosted with white and the trudge up to the hen houses will be noisy with ice snapping underfoot.
As for the chickens, they will be loath to venture out, preferring to stay cwtched up (Welsh for cuddled) on their warm bed of wood shavings. The bigger girls will stay huddled on the perch and will only appear when they are hungry. Winter is definitely on it's way.

I was working all day yesterday and missed out on the glorious sunshine that was inviting me to go and play in the garden but I have enjoyed seeing a lovely torpedo shaped female Nuthatch darting about close by the conservatory window earlier this week. I'm always delghted to spy the common but shy Jenny Wren or the camera-inviting Robin Redbreast and already I've seen one handsome Goldfinch that so delighted Luke the first time he ever saw one in our garden.
Whilst I mourn the passing of a frankly non existent summer there is still such a lot to be got from the seasons in Britain. I won't yearn for the slippery mornings or the biting cold that seems to pervade every part of my body, turning my fingertips numb and making my feet feel like ice blocks, Likewise I shan't be welcoming the icy road conditions or scraping the windscreen and then waiting for the condensation to clear before I can set off on a journey anywhere but whilst the roses lie dormant (a great time now to plant new rose stocks whilst they are not disturbed by the upheaval) the bulbs will soon be reawakening and, hidden from view, will begin to build up their stores and push upwards and eventually out into the light for next year's colour.

Today we are visiting family so there will be no gardening but I am longing to get my fingers dirty and my back aching again. A hard day's digging is pretty therapeutic even if it's tough going and standing back to admire the crumbly soil after it's been dug over is one of my secret (not so secret now) joys. The winter sky, bright blue with mere wisps of cloud, is always a delight to stare up at whilst I am stretching my back out when it locks up. A steaming hot cup of tea to wrap your hands around and feel the warmth seeping back in is another simple pleasure. Having the 'ladies' around my feet, looking for any fat worms I may have unearthed with my digging always makes me chuckle too. They are so industrious and when we both spot a wriggling body in the clod of soil I have just dug it's a race to see who can get to it first. Me, to hide it back safely underground or the hens to make a tasty meal of it.
Last night Luke picked me up from work and had difficulty getting the two littlest back into their run so ended up shutting them into the safety of the greenhouse. When we arrived home at dusk they had already perched, high up on the metal framework, in amongst the tomato plants. We quickly hooked up a chicken each, much to their obvious and noisy displeasure, and popped them deftly back into their hen house. Much happier to be back in their dark and comfortable sanctuary they immediately stopped their protestations and, peeking through the window of their house, we could see them snuggled up together ready for a good night's sleep.
Oh to be a chicken in our little flock.



Talking of the tomatoes. it's now obvious that we won't be getting any more ripening and the ones that have started ripening have now split their skins and have an edging of mould running along the split. They look like they have fur lined bomber jackets on. We will have to consign the plants to the compost bin but at least I saved a few last ones to freeze for stews later in the year. Luke is thrilled that finally we had success with our greenhouse tomatoes and I hope this means that next year we will have rows of dark green bushes with fat red globes hanging off them. Yum.

Nature has a cheeky side

Or possibly just a vivid imagination on my part but when I strolled past this old tree recently it seemed like nature had attempted a little joke by putting boobs on the trunk. See for yourself.

End of the rainbow.

What's at the end of a rainbow? Not so much a pot of gold but a quarter of hens.

If you can make it out, the hen house is at the bottom of the arc.

Seagulls and then some.

Whilst I was busy working on the garden last Thursday there was some work going on in the adjoining field too. A flurry of seagulls swooping low and screeching noisily alerted me to the tractor that was mowing the very long grass  for the first time this year. After four hours of the tractor and twenty four hours of the seagulls it went much quieter. There was still some action going on though; when Luke and I looked out of the bedroom window we saw the lone fox, sniffing about in the grass. Only the evening before, as fingers of glowing amber snaked across the light blue sky, I watched in delight as one regal heron, neck bent and legs straight out behind it, slowly flapped way above my head in almost slow motion.

oh my goodness.

Tomorrow, 15th July, is St Swithuns Day. For those of you who haven't read David Nicholls' 'One Day' or aren't aware of this saint let me fill you in. According to tradition, the weather on St Swithun's feast day  will continue for forty days. Which to us Brits mean if we have rain tomorrow the superstitious amongst us will believe it will rain for the next forty days Glad I'm not superstitious (touch wood!)

And look at the gift from Mother Nature.

Last year we had a solitary poppy appear in our old tin bath (well, not OUR old tin bath but someone else's old bath that I have used as a planter). This year we have been bestowed another gift - a mass of the same poppy, festooned along the inhospitable, and frankly dour, steps to our front door. How they has found any goodness in the tarmac is beyond me but they are stuck firm and will give is a warm welcome every time we arrive home.

Here is the first poppy to flower; their tissue paper fine petals will be gone in a day or two but there is another head ready to bloom. Life finds a way in even the most unexpected places and feels like a little pay back for all the terrible weather we have had thus far this summer. I'm grateful for any small mercies, specially ones as unexpected as this.

Woken by tapping on the window

Did I say tapping? What I really meant was hammering. Yes, it is still raining and when I say raining it is absolutely gushing down, relentlessly. Wimbledon fortnight and we look to be in for another colossal drenching with the hosepipe ban now firmly behind us (what that only just over a month ago?). We now have risks of floods! Only a week or so ago, whilst I was enjoying the sun, further up North there was a drowning when a man tried to escape from his car that had got caught swept away by a swollen river. Then last week came the golf ball sized hailstones and now there is no end date to the rain. The garden centres are selling plants off at half price which is sad as growers depend on this time of year to make their profit. Then again no one can really get out into their garden to plant anything and with so many plants not enjoying having constantly soaked roots everything looks pretty sorry for itself.
My goodness, where did our summer go?
The old watering can which is purely for show at the top of the garden filled up completely within the week and is now overspilling. The bird baths fill themselves and there are puddles of water just from where I've walked over the veg patch. It may be good for ducks and our complexions but it's driving everyone I meet crazy.

As the plumber said to me yesterday whilst bemoaning the fact that no one has any money, "Ah well, look on the bright side, we've got summer to look forward to". The insects will be getting a battering too. This is one of those weekends I don't mind being in work as there is little to do in this downpour. No 'Puffin Island' trip for us tomorrow as we had hoped. I'm fairly confident that we have an Indian summer to look forward to. By August and certainly September I am holding out for a heatwave. Hope springs eternal!

I had a roaring fire yesterday afternoon and Jack's cat was glad of the warmth. She won't want to be out in this weather. We'll all be so thrilled when the raining stops and the sun dries and warms us out. Even my winter puffa jacket is still being warn and is currently soaked after yesterday's outing. Still, the grass is looking a beautiful shade of green and the baby birds are still visiting our peanut feeders. All this rain will hopefully just make us appreciate the sun more when it arrives. Now, where did I leave my umbrella?

Moment of truth.

Well, I'm feeling disillusioned at the moment. For all the time and money I have ploughed into the garden I'm not feeling the love from it right now. Because of the ever present rain and quite strong winds of late it all looks pretty wild. I think the problem really is that I've got a few big bills this week - the boiler needs major work and the car has it's MOT too so I'm feeling guilty for spending so much on the plants and need to justify myself by knowing that at least it is paying me back in colour and beauty. It's not the garden's fault of course, no matter how much money I throw at it right now the weather is not really being friendly to us so I may as well just pay the boiler man and the mechanic and enjoy my vase of paeonies indoors instead. At least the baby blue tits are still darting around and making us smile.
What a grump!

Time for tea

Here I am, sitting in the window seat of yet another coffee shop. I've finished work for the weekend and am waiting to give Luke a lift home. A work colleague and I joked about our two summers when the sun briefly poked out from behind the clouds not once but twice. I spy blue skies and whipping past clouds but can't do any gardening today as its been bucketing down overnight. So I may sit here and dream of what I could do with endless supplies of money. Shockingly I think I may get a garden designer in to do a professional job. I feel like a sell out just saying that because for me more than half the pleasure of a garden is adding to it and watching it grow but the thought of a properly designed terrace with some old stone walling and a beautiful colour scheme makes me salivate already. Why don't we all do what we really want to in life? I never quite knew what to do and by the time you think you know it seems too late to retrain; the bills are ever present an the rat race seems to have got you firmly in it's grip. I'd love to have been several things, a dancer, a P.A., a window dresser and of course, more than these, a gardener. I didn't have these ambitions when I was younger and just drifted into work. I am a firm believer that it's never too late whilst there's breath in your body but do I apply that to myself when I have a chunky mortgage and a lovely home?
Well, you know the answer. As far as I'm concerned I lucked out with what I've got; a lovely man, a nice home, a good job and so on. My list of bounties is lengthy and so I'll count my blessings and carry on digging and designing my garden my way. I mean, it's hardly a hardship, is it. That way I also get to smell the roses and remind myself how many good things there are.

Weekend ramblings

I'm currently sitting up in bed, typing this post. There's no incentive to get 'up & at 'em!' because, yep, you have guessed it, rain is on its way. My white peony, Shirley Temple, has eventually flowered - a blousy and vivid pink. Sigh! I do like that Mother Nature always is the boss though. Despite only ever planting black or white flowers in that corner I have a surprise every year. Last year it was foxgloves reverting back to their original pink.

What am I going to do about it? Dig the plants up as I have in previous years and replant in other borders?
No. I'm going to give in graciously and enjoy the thought that my lofty ideas have been put into place!

Home from home

My Mum is currently on holiday in Spain, staying with her brother who lives there. So, imagine my delight to see that someone in Spain checked out my blog today. Mum's are such supporters of their children, aren't they? Thanks, Mum!

A fool and her money...,

are easily parted, as the old saying goes and it's certainly true to for. After vowing to go nowhere near a garden centre because I had spent so much money last month (or was it this month? I have absolutely no idea) where did I find myself today? Oh, don't even answer that question - we both know! I know I shouldn't have but I got chatting to my next door neighbour but one (I was borrowing Jack's washing line as we still haven't put one up yet) and we were both in agreement that we'd rather go plant shopping than clothes shopping. That was enough to make up my mind and off we went. First of all we did walk around Roath Lake to see the goslings and ducklings - all down and fluff, bless them. Once we'd had a genteel walk through the rose garden, along the lakeside and back to the car it was time for me to spend some money. As I guiltily admitted to Luke - it takes me all day to earn what I can spend in fifteen minutes (but then again what is the point of working so hard if it can't be spent on something that will give me such pleasure and we are careful with what we spend - unless I'm delusional which I may well be). There are so many bills in everyday life; mortgage, water rates, council tax, electricity ad gas bills, food and travel costs.., the list goes on so there has to be some niceness in there. Anyway, have I bored you with my justification? I know I have bored myself and the phrase, "methinks the lady doth protest too much" springs to mind. Enough. I spent some money, I enjoyed what I bought and I've had a super day planting it all up.End of!
So, what was I seduced by this time? What wasn't I? If I had my way I would have bought some annuals to fill the half barrel with colour but good ole Luke marched me towards the tills when I hit the £50 threshold. He's a saint!
Do you remember me mentioning I'd seen a beautiful agapanthus; white with blue tips? I was pleased with myself for leaving it behind and buying the pure shite version for the little bed I recently made. Who was I kidding? It was just a case of delayed gratification as I finally bought it today. It's called 'Queen Mum' and should prove a showstopper.
I saw a David Austin rose called' Clare Austin' that I've liked for a long time. It was down from £17 to £10 so in the trolley it went then another great find, 'Buff Beauty' - a lovely light apricot blush of a rose that was down in price from £10 to £5. So, one for the back garden's fence and the cheaper one for the front garden when I've (or maybe Luke?) have removed the scrappy old conifer that resides by the raised deck - for now!
There were 3 for ten pound offers on small perennials so I bought six of those. Every real gardener knows you should buy plants in quantities of three or five at least and that it can look quite sparse and 'dotty' if individual plants are just plonked in. I've still not reconciled myself to doing this though, it seems so indulgent on the purse strings. The day I do allow myself to buy three I'll feel I'm a proper gardener.
Luke had a little doze in the hammock (it was a lovely 26 degrees today so there was a real summer feel to the place. We had a Cornish cream tea; scone, strawberries and clotted cream with a fresh cup of Golden Needle tea; all very decadent and then it was time to garden.
The first job was to read the information label because there is no point spending proper money on plants that are going to end up struggling in the wrong conditions. Luckily we get plenty of sun and so the plants which all needed a sunny spot were placed around the borders then I stood back, squinted and imagined each plant at it's full height and width. Once happy with their siting I dug a deep hole, watered it well, added some compost, teased the root system out from each plant and then popped them in the hole, infilled with the soil and firmed them in with the heel of my sandal then finally watering very well. I also planted three of my small round Buxus (Box) to add some form to a border. As it's an evergreen it will look good throughout the year. Whilst planting the Box I realised that the huge rose I have already planted by the conservatory is - a Clare Austin. I didn't even realise I already had one of those. Ah well, I'm two thirds of the way towards getting my three of the same plant but certainly not by design!
Throughout the afternoon's planting I was joined by the big chicks whilst "The Tweeters "(our three growers who still chirrup away rather than make the "buck buck" sound of the bigger girls) stayed by the compost bin with the occasional foray into the hen's run and a sneak taste of 'grown up' food (layer's pellets - they are still on grower's pellets). Now I have to be on hen alert to ensure all my hard work and money is not wasted with a tasty five minute chomp from the girls. It's like chastising a child, "No, get away from those now. I won't tell you again" from me,. "Grumble grumble" from them, as they strut off - they know I mean business.
We've all had a very outdoorsy day and should all sleep well tonight. I've still got the sheets to iron first though so off I go - photos to follow.
Oh, one more thing...., I've enjoyed the final part of the day just sitting in the hammock with the laptop and typing up my news and the friendly, photogenic robin is just a metre away from me, on the peanut feeder.. Oh, this is the life...., shame it's Monday tomorrow.

The great outdoors.

Righteo, after a delicious slice of pistachio cake and a pot of tea Luke and I got home in time to rescue the chickens from the heat of the greenhouse. To be fair, most of the morning they have been outside, tweeting away in the herb patch. Mega chicken, Lola, is broody so will not let us near her and grumbles away when anywhere near the other hens. The three growers need to live outdoors now, the weather has got too warm to leave them in the greenhouse so this afternoon Luke has got out his toolkit and unscrewed their house and run as it's too big to get through the greenhouse door frame. Now  he is putting it back together just behind the main hen house but the little ones won't know what to do tonight when it's bedtime.

We will have to quietly catch them in the greenhouse where they will go when it's getting dark as that is all they know. Once collected and popped into their house again they will be fine. Next week we think we will take Lola to her new home in Gloucestershire. A cousin of mine has agreed to have her to add to his small flock of hens. We will stay overnight to ensure that she is okay in the morning. If she settles down then we'll leave her there (with a heavy heart, she's a good egg layer and a fun chicken but she is too large for the bantams and it's not an ideal situation). Once we know she is fine in her new home (I feel sad just thinking about it, right now she is up to forty minutes in the potato row having a very long dust bath) we will put the three growers in with Buck Bucky the next evening. Still, that is a week away and we have to make sure they don't end up cooked in the heat of the greenhouse.
By the way, we walked up to the main road to see the Olympic torch relay coming into Cardiff and it was jam-packed. Cars parked everywhere and thousands of people. We met our neighbours and it was a lovely chatty time. We've been invited to a barbecue at the local councillors' house next weekend but the chicks need to be sorted first.

 Spot the Olympic runner......, 
................................................... yes, you are right. It's not one of these ladies.

You can just make the torch bearer out (he's the one carrying the torch!)

I also spent a few minutes ordering some sale plants on the telephone as the website wasn't working yesterday and sadly, in that time, they have sold out of the allium Globemasters which are one of my absolute favourite plants. Ah well, you win some, you lose some.
What a lovely old day I've had 

Too hot to trot.

It's my day off today, I've mown the lawn, leaving the longer grass and daisies around the hammock to give it a lazier, more relaxed look. I've also lightly forked over the border that has been flattened by the big chicks. The gladioli have struggled to push through that solid ground. There are new bits of bindweed happily growing in the back patch  because it''s prevalent behind the fence and only one piece will start a new plant.
I've come indoors now because it's so hot out there and after Luke and I have met up at the tea house we are coming back to watch some poor soul running through the roads of Cardiff with the Olympic torch. I hope he's got a cool flannel and a long drink at the end of his run. We'll be sauntering home for a nice cup of tea. Terribly British, what ho!