Let's do something...

 Winnie loves tennis balls.
Tennis Ball

Nice - a new week in March in which to do new things. Not elderly, like last week. Brand spanking sparkling new, starting today. C'mon dogs, let's do something. I know - let's go and take some photographs of the roses. They're looking rather beautiful. Oh - you'd rather go to the dog park?

Monday 16th March

OK, Winnie, here's a compromise. You'd like me to throw your tennis ball. I'm happy to oblige. Again? And again? Don't you ever get bored retrieving the tennis ball? NO is the answer to that!

But the morning skies are darkening, and it's starting to spit rain. Look how more deeply saturated the nearly-autumn rose colours are. So beautiful. Compassion smells divine. And how nicely the evergreen shrubs along the boundary are growing. Roses are the divas, evergreens are the back row of the chorus, in the opera that is my garden. Blimey.

'Plop' goes the tennis ball in front of my feet. Again. And again. And again. I end deliberately aiming for a large bush, hoping that she'll 'lose' it. No chance! Meanwhile Rusty (AKA Mister Limpy) has stayed inside. He's off to the vet tomorrow for some arthritis medicine. The kittens Buster and Tiddles are getting spayed - they are now six months old. How quickly the young animals grow up.

 Tennis ball in mouth...
Winnie the Puppy on the Boundary

This rain is wonderful for me and my garden. But it's the remnants of the nasty cyclone 'Pam' which was not at all wonderful for the island of Vanuatu. Trash for them, treasure for me. Seems unfair.

 A robust climber.
Autumn Compassion Roses

Much Later...

Big Fluff-Fluff doesn't seem to feel the rain. He's been out for hours hunting for rodents in next-door's paddock. So in he comes, absolutely soaked, shakes himself all over my computer, then wanders off to squash his wet self into in the jigsaw box. Aargh!

Wednesday 18th March

The kitty-cats are back from the vet, leaping and purring and full of themselves. They were only there for a day (yesterday) and I missed them both dreadfully. I'm so lucky that they came to live here. It was quite by accident.

The gardening content of my week, so far, is negligible, but the Brahms content is difficult to ignore. My friend and I are crashing and bashing our way through a new piano duet. It's an arrangement of one of the most beautiful pieces of chamber music ever written, the Brahms Piano Quintet. Unfortunately, when we've finished with it. The weather has suddenly turned cooler, which is not much use for my patio tomatoes, many of which are still ripening. And it's been raining on and off, which is my pathetic excuse for minimal gardening. Oops. I guess its turning into autumn.

Thursday 19th March

This morning I took the dogs on a forest walk. They love being on a path, which of course to them is a river of a thousand and one human and dog smells. Winnie races ahead, Rusty plods closer to me. Both dog-tails are happily wagging - actually, Winnie's spins hers around clockwise when she's having fun on a walk.

 Rose photographs? So boring!
Bored Dogs

This afternoon, finally, I did some weeding by the dogs' kennels. I cleaned up the Lavenders, hand-raked gum leaves off the soil, and liberated a sad red Phormium, planting it next to Lavatera Barnsley (much of which has reverted to the boring lilac flower). That's all, but that's better than nothing.

Buster :
Buster is the slinkiest black cat. Don't be fooled by the name - she's a girl!

Then I sat on the Adirondack seat (whose paint has almost totally peeled off, oops) for ages with Buster the black kitten on my lap and thought about attacking Autumn. But the choice of word seemed far too rude and confrontational - Autumn better deserves to be 'approached', with a friendly smile and a gentle attitude. And anyway, Autumn needs to arrive first, before I start making sweeping gardening plans for it. I suspect I was just filling in time.

Friday 20th March

Oh dear. We've been back to the vet this morning. Winnie the puppy had an 'accident' late yesterday, running over Tiddles the tabby while chasing the frisbee (I threw it). Tiddles was hurt, and this morning had to be vet-checked in case any of the internal stitches from her operation had been compromised. I felt so low - I cried and sniffed all through the consult. The vet thinks the kitten is just bruised, so we've come home with pain relief.

 Tiddles is a polydactyl cat.
Tiddles the Tabby

So Sorry...

But I haven't felt like settling to anything. I've picked at the jigsaw, until black Buster arrived to chew some of the pieces. So that didn't work. I've tried some TV couch cycling (in Flanders) but my heart hasn't been in it.

I've just been sitting around, worrying, and feeling so guilty. Now I'm going to sweep up gum tree leaves. I'm so sorry, Tiddles - I just didn't see you, hiding in the long grass, and my frisbee aim is random at the best of times. Please get better.

Some smily pet news - Escher the brown dog and Lady Kaya, an older black cat, are coming to stay soon while their new house is being built. Three dogs! Nine cats! I'll have to especially super-nice to Non-Gardening Partner...