Some might think the covering improves the gnomes...
Gnomes in Forget-Me-Nots

Aha! Prepare for some serious alliteration - it's time for a fond farewell to my fluffy forget-me-nots, their flirtation with flowering finally finished. It delights me just how many of these pretty little annuals grow in my garden. They're so generous, and they pop up everywhere.


Oops - I've just checked the garden gnomes around my pond. To my horror (well, that may be a bit strong a word) I've discovered many of the chaps are smothered, even hidden, in swathes of the little pale blue flowers. This will not do! It must make life a bit difficult for the fishermen...

Anyway, I've been busy all morning pulling old forget-me-not plants from the house gardens - trying to leave behind self-sown seedlings I like (pansies and cornflowers, for example), and not to stomp on any of the sprouting dahlias.

Now heaps and heaps of old forget-me-not messes cover the lawns, waiting for me to do the rounds with the wheelbarrow. Yet another pair of good woollen socks are completely covered in sticky biddibids, as are all the lower furry bits of my dog. And Rusty the dog hates being brushed...

 Such pretty flowers.
Blue Forget-Me-Not and Red Phormium

About these sticky seeds. Some people just never learn. I'll wander past a garden bed with my best singing clothes on, see some forget-me-nots mouldering in the greenery, and oh so carefully lean in to pull them out. Just a few! I forget that those biddibids have minds of their own. They are the ultimate cling-ons!

Bee on a Forget-Me-Not

Monday 19th November

Ah - the lightest, loveliest drizzle to start a new day, then the sun, which inspires my bellbirds to whistle and chime in the pond trees. I imagine them singing with joy as their feathers warm up and dry off.

The sun is calling me, too, out of my snug cottage where I'm hiding away from nothing in particular, if you know what I mean. But I know exactly what I'll be doing today! Oh yes. Pulling out more of those unforgettables, and marvelling that they've turned up in absolutely every possible part of my cultivated garden. But that's OK. I love them doing that.

Much Later...

Oh dear. I've forgotten all about the gnomes, leaving them to their hazy world of seeds and fading flowers. I've chosen instead to de-forget-me-not another of the house gardens. Continuing the blue theme I've planted several clusters of blue flowering salvias in their place. Summer blues for spring blues - a nice connection.

Tuesday 20th November

Another beautiful morning, sitting in bed propped up with my new pillows - new pillows! Such a treat for an older-lady gardener. I'm drinking my early cup of tea and beaming at my pond, my trees, my green garden.

Charles the Ram :
Charles the merino ram lives in the front paddock with two wethers for sheep company.

Hang on a minute - one of the distant old roses is waving its branches at me. Aargh! It's the ram! He is happily munching the new growth off one of my treasures. Temporary interruption to nature's tranquility as I stomp out in nightdress and yell: 'Go away, you rude ram' - well, words to that effect. But he hears me and shuffles off back to the front paddock, out of sight. Ha! I am powerful, even at a distance.

 This is one of my all-time favourite photographs. Ever!
Ginger Cat Percy in the Forget-Me-Nots

Today I will definitely de-forget-me-not those gnomes. I have more blue annuals to plant in the garden behind them. Late yesterday I mixed up a goodly anti-fungus brew and puffed it on the new roses in there. They are not just new roses, they are my specially chosen and ordered new David Austin roses. It's a little annoying that one (just one) has a few spots of rust on its leaves.

 Underneath a lilac rhododendron.


I've also made a sensible decision. Today I will garden sockless! Ha! So far I have potentially ruined three pairs of good woollen socks with sticky biddibids from the forget-me-nots. I thought a good soaking in wool-wash might loosen the little seeds, but no. Instead they have woven themselves well and truly into the sock fibres. Blast!


Forget-me-nots... Aren't they a nuisance? Well yes, but only to daft gardeners who have long hair and wear woollen socks in early summer. And I wouldn't be without them. They fill garden gaps, and the ground-cover colour works so well with flowering spring shrubs above.

And of course their name shows what they symbolise - true love and faithfulness. I'll think of this fondly as I try to pick the sticky seeds off my clothes and out of my hair - and my cats' fur. Ouch!