Autumn shows me its kindest, calmest face...

One really nice thing about autumn - I can see what needs doing in the garden, without feeling panicky or overwhelmed. There's not a hint of desperation, as autumn shows me its kindest, calmest face...

 Taken from the Glass-House Garden.
Cottage View in Autumn

Sunday 6th May

I've just spoken to Non-Gardening Partner about my latest 'wondering' moment. I was wondering if he felt generous enough to pay for nine new David Austin roses. I'd like to order them online, so there would also be postage. New Zealand's Mothers Day is celebrated next weekend I think. It's worth a try...

 A late bloomer.
Pink Recycled Rose

A Rose Maximalist...

And his response? 'More? You've already got over four hundred.' It's not like I hoard pairs of shoes, or need two closets for my clothes. I am a fashion minimalist, if a rose maximalist!

This morning I need to work extra hard in my garden, while still enjoying its mellow autumn mood. I won't bug NGP about mowing the lawns - he needs some man-time on his own to think about those roses...

Lunchtime...

Blast. Things are going ever so nicely. My little incinerator is puffing away, burning the patio and driveway leaves, while I'm - surprise, surprise - raking gum leaves off the garden by Rusty's dog kennel. I've trimmed the Buddleia, taken a too-low branch off the Lime tree, and scraped up all sorts of dry rubbish from the lawn and garden. Oh, the joys of gardening underneath huge Australian Eucalyptus trees...

But back to that 'blast'. Now I have to clean myself up properly and sing in an afternoon choir concert. Wild, witchy hair and bonfire odours will not do. But (hee hee) if I see some horse manure out on the roadside on the way in, I'm jolly well going to put it in my car. There are only so many sacrifices a gardener can make.

Monday 7th May

I've been bewitched! The descriptions of the new David Austin roses are lodged firmly in my mind. Now I don't know what to do. I feel I need some sense of rose discipline - for example, I should plant all the recycled roses still waiting in pots (at least eight of them) first.

Dear B-Puss :
B-Puss is short for 'Beige Puss'. He was the most eccentric of cats.

Eek! Wandering out in the early morning gloom to feed Lilli-Puss in the Stables, I'm sure a large all-white cat shot past me and off down the driveway to the hay barn. In a fanciful moment I imagined the ghost of dearly departed B-Puss. I've put some dried cat food down in the hay barn and tomorrow morning I'll wear my long range spectacles and sneak up.

Much Later...

No gardening today - I've been painting more of my garden gnomes. Apart from difficulties creating an earthy brown colour, all is well (love the pea-green shirts, chaps). I though one always ended up with the paint colour brown when mixing madly, trying to get something else. Yet when one tries for brown it remains elusive. A garden gnome painting truth (or simply not enough red)...

 So pretty in the rain.
Bantry Bay Climbing Rose

I've now found a rural rose nursery, quite close by car, which seems to have a rather lovely collection of striped roses (including one sensibly called Zebra) in its catalogue. I could go and pick the order up, saving on postage (how terribly thrifty).

Gnomes :
These are two of my latest - fit-looking forest chaps, brothers, with really curly beards.

I am drawn to striped roses, and I believe this is linked to my love of variegated foliage - and garden gnomes, too. Is it something to do with having a slightly cheeky gardening personality, perhaps?

Tomorrow is also going to be a non-gardening day. I'm going hiking with my friend - we are climbing Mount Herbert on the Peninsula. He sits next to the beloved Mount Bradley, and is no slouch, at 920 metres. I don't necessarily require full sun, but I'd like panoramic views, please, of the harbour and the coast and the distant ranges.