Time to prepare for the Spring.

The clocks go back tonight; it's the end of British Summer Time and it certainly feels like it. Currently too wet to plant up, my second lot of bulbs have arrived (how infuriating to buy fifty pounds' worth of bulbs and plant them only to receive a second email informing me that all the ones I bought are now half price - grrrrr!).
I've bought some small Verbena plants too as I love how straggly and lofty they get in the summer. Like giant cranes wafting over the other plants as they catch the breath and move about. Whilst other people are addicted to shoes I get a thrill when a package like the one below arrives. I even get impressed with the packaging, how daft is that? What I will be impressed with is how they will look after a long old winter and it's bleakness has made us forget how much colour and form there is in a garden.

It's been a long, long time....,

Hello.
Remember me? No? Well, it's little wonder if you don't. I've not been blogging for quite a while and my garden has been left unattended although it has still pushed through and bloomed of it's own accord. It's a hopeful thing, a garden. Bringing to life things you had forgotten you even planted and rewarding you each year for work you did long ago.
My mum died recently, very suddenly after a diagnosis on her birthday which shocked us all. Another victim to cancer and nothing she could have done to prevent it or be cured. I've come back home after being with her in her last few weeks and I am finding solace in my garden. Having planted spring bulbs I know that next year, even without Mum, will bring some joy and colour. Nature has a way of moving on and taking you with it. So I hope I can dig my fingers into the soil and plant little rays of hope that I can share with you.
Thanks for waiting.

BUCK bucky bites the dust.

Hello,  remember me?  Long ago,  before we had what feels like more rain than in Noah's time I used. To be able to garden.  Since its turned into a big in our garden I haven't been able to pull on my wellies and get digging,  hence the silence from me.  Today though I wanted to share the sad news that our oldest and last of the original chickens we bought has died. 

Dear old Buck Bucky put up a great fight but succumbed to a respiratory disease today.
Now only down to three chickens the dilemma is do we get more.  We seem to lose them when there are no newly hatched birds available  but at least that gives us time to decide what to do for the best.
Whatever we decide,  Buckster will be buried under a rose and remembered with fondness.  G'night,  old girl.