My 2022 motto...

Having fun trying to do my best. That's my 2022 motto, easy to apply, a one-size-fits-all motto. Whether it be the piano or the garden or my personal fitness regime. Or my mind-expansion programme. Hang on a minute? Do I actually have a mind expansion programme? Does reading old-school British detective stories count?

 Beautiful foliage.
Brunnera Jack Frost

I have three lovely things to report.

Right. OK. I am off to clean up the Frisbee Border, where the Clematis montana is misbehaving, as is to be expected. Nearby shrubs (so hard-working and rather pretty) are being smothered and strangled. It's high time for a serious trim.

Clematis up the Cabbage Tree

Three hours later...

I ignored the drizzle. First I weeded the border from the blobby conifer right round to the unfortunate Cordyline (see accompanying photograph, taken a couple of years ago). This took ages. I trimmed all the prunus suckers and pulled out heaps of long stemmed dandelion-like weeds. Then I started pulling and trimming that Clematis.

Got all of it down from the Cordyline, and pulled half of it off the Choisya and the variegated Corokia. Came inside to have a short break, during which time the drizzle turned into rain. So I stayed inside, as one does, and have been watching the Women's Half Pipe Snowboarding from the Winter Olympics. They are doing some groovy tricks!

I've been thinking about that Clematis. When I planted it (ages ago) I intended it to trail and twine itself along the sheep netting fence. The word was 'along', and there was heaps of room. It wasn't ever supposed to climb 'up' the weeping cherries and the crab-apple tree, the Cecile Brunner climbing rose, and 'up' that Cordyline.

A misunderstanding?

So it wasn't technically a mistake of mine to plant it, but rather a misunderstanding, right?

Thursday 10th February

Heaps of rain fell overnight - so much rain, but still has to be good for my garden. Great for the aquifers underneath me. Hope the dahlias haven't all flopped over. They're oh so colourful at the moment. Have already playing my Albeniz piano, am now off to ballet, then maybe some quiet time in front of the Winter Olympics. Such a busy non-gardening life...

Lilli-Puss :
My old cat who was returned to me after six years absence.

One doesn't want to write about things that are not so good. But Lilli-Puss (my old senile cat) is getting much frailer, and is now unable to jump up or down anything. When not sleeping she'll wander around aimlessly in circles, often following people's (or the dogs') feet. Then she'll stop mid-stride, seemingly stuck. She really doesn't know what's going on. Dear old cat. I guess I'm getting prepared for the inevitable.