Real winter mornings, frost on the lawn...
Silly Pink Rose
Gardenwise it's a real winter morning. Frost on the lawn is just a little too crunchy to ignore, and the sun is just peeping at me through the trees. Correction - it's me that is peeping at the sun... Bring on the blue skies! Gardening might have to wait a wee while.
Wednesday 11th July
At least sixty fat-feathered wax-eyes are already fluttering over the birds' seed ball and the treat du jour - a bowl of ripe banana. I assume they're puffed up because it's cold, rather than being bird-obese with lashings of the high calorie food I'm providing. Hopefully in ten minutes time a new wave (the next sixty) will fly in to take up pecking duties. All my house trees are noisy, full of squeaking customers.
In a real winter morning's routine the log-burner is lit even before the coffee has brewed. I think about my day, while Little Mac the kitten sits inside the warm house watching the birdies. And I ramble on for, say, a couple of hours, about this and that. I make plans! I write lists! I watch the kitten watching the birdies. And then I have a second cup of hot coffee and out I go.
But more than ramblings, photographs (cheerful, arty, up-market images) are desperately needed for my winter journal pages. I'll do it - I'll try to digitally capture some frost. My dog will think we're going for a walk, so he'll be happy.
Trying to Photograph Snowdrops
OK. Photographing frost is not as inspiring as I thought it would be. I got much more excited when I found a silly rose flowering. Sharifa Asma, dear rose, lovely thing. Silly, sentimental gardener. I remembered to take a picture of the snowdrops, but the kitten kept getting in the way.
Seven Hours Later...
Ha! Seven hours of success. I have worked tirelessly, thoughtfully, with attention to detail, enjoying every minute of my day. And I finished with a bonfire which took about an hour and a half to get going properly. What I've actually done is not flashy or even semi-spectacular, but I'm very, very proud. I've planted more Phormium pieces by the fence-line. I don't really want to see the neighbour's cars, even if they are a long way away over the paddock, so these plants should block the view.
I've also started to make a new path in the Wattle Woods, one which will cruise past the beginning of the little wriggling stream. I'll hide the hose, lay more stones casually around, and it should look like a magical spring bubbling out of the ground. Shouldn't it? Why not?
Thursday 12th July
This afternoon when I got home from playing Chamber Music I was going to do some gardening - honestly I was. But it had to be carrying and spreading bags of horse manure. And I was wearing my good jeans, and I had to do a quick Google search first for more flute and piano music, and make a cup of coffee, and watch the TV highlights of a cricket match that we (New Zealand) WON, and ...
Excuses, excuses. A fool fooling only herself. But wait! Yesterday's seven hour day can combine with today to give a respectable average, hee hee... And what's one day missed in weeks and weeks of winter?
Friday 13th July
Right! I've left five bags of horse manure in the back of my car. Oops. Must be a good gardener, remove them, and get going.
I've had one of those expansive, timeless days. Eventually I started tripping over things, decided sadly that this must be a sign of old age, then looked up and saw it was almost dark. No wonder! Anyway, I'm inside, to faithfully record another successful day.
Rusty the Dog
All day my dog stayed near me, but apart from barking at birds he didn't really contribute much. In fact he seemed downright bored. Oh well. I certainly wasn't.
I've made that new path in the Wattle Woods - it's always an exciting moment when a new route through the garden works well. I spread compost in the gardens near the path, planted a Phormium, replanted clumps of Lamium, and found almost enough logs for the edges.
A Hypotenuse Path
It's a hypotenuse path, short-cutting from near Rooster Bridge down to the start of my little stream, sliding past the big Wattle trees. The running water is now quite a surprise, as one doesn't plod past the bright orange revolving river pump, wonder 'What is that?', and then (tripping over a black polyethylene pipe) suspect that something watery is going to happen.
Saturday 14th July
Today has been a fetching and carrying day (firewood, compost, horse manure), with just two hours of daylight left to weed and start organising the vegetable garden. I'm going to plant some of my new roses in the middle section (I'm allowed). This is very exciting. If I wasn't so end-of-the-day tired I'd leap up and down shouting 'Yippee!'