Web-site spelling mistakes...
The Autumn Garden
Ha! My web-site spelling-mistake blitz continues indoors, as does my get-the-garden-ready blitz outside. It's less than two weeks until my overseas holiday trip to Washington DC...
Monday 4th May
Today I am up early. There has been a slight frost, and I am going swimming. I need to get back to my healthy exercise routine (I blame the weeks leading up to the Garden Club visit, where every other activity but gardening was thrown on the compost heap).
I'm thrilled with the three fifty cent Anthemis perennials I planted on the edge of the stone wall. Still I haven't trimmed them, and still there are many lemon daisies flowering. There is only the slightest element of scruff, a nice controlled sprawl, and not a hint of a sulky flop.
What a great attitude! And they look brilliant from a distance - specifically from my computer chair, through the raised lid of the grand piano, and out the (still remarkably clean) bay window.
Guess the Cat!
Frost...
But I can see that the lawns are dull frosty-white, and yesterday I forgot to take my half-hardy pots into shelter. Oops! That must, must, must be today's first big job.
Do All Cats Do This?
I've been trying to have sweet smelling late roses in little vases in the kitchen. So Tiger decides that she needs to drink that particular water, and knocks the flowers all over the place. Time and time again.
The Morning Cat News
Right. This morning there are grand cat-battles going on downstairs. Percy is fiercely challenging the rug-monster, Minimus is cat-wrestling with Mugsy, and Histeria is beating up a (toy) mouse. Tiger is lurking underneath a chair, all wound up ready to spring out - she always does that.
And where is big Fluff-Fluff? I must check - he's not to be trusted when timid Lilli-Puss is upstairs. Jerome the old cat doesn't fight anymore. Hmm... Have I missed any cats out? That's only seven accounted for...
Gum Tree and Autumn Berberis
It's later - a sunny lunchtime, and I've just been over to feed the hens. My chooks are behaving oddly. One black hen has lost all her head feathers in the moult, and runs away from me (the shame! the shame!) while my rooster - I'm at a loss.
My Rooster is Seriously Sulking
He seems healthy, he's crowing, and those beady little bird eyes are vacantly bright. But he's taken to hiding inside the hen house on his perch - even when it's beautifully sunny. Oh dear. Do roosters get the sulks? Are these two odd chook-things related?
Rooster : You look a fright! I'm not coming out until your face feathers grow back...
Black Hen : He thinks I'm ugly! I can't let anyone else see me like this...
Fluff-Fluff the Cat
I found big Fluff-Fluff the cat stalking a pheasant in the orchard. There was much agitated honking - I knew he was up to something! I explained that this was anti-social and unneccessary cat-behaviour. Some days I know I spend far too much time talking to my animals. No comment is required.
Update - $100 Spelling Mistakes Donation
I am pleased to report that this morning I made my first donation (my personal fines for web-site spelling errors) to the Salvation Army - for ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS. Eek! So far my spell-checking sessions have found 64 + 23 + 36 + 37 + 12 = $172 worth of mistakes!
Choosy Shrub :- Translating - the choosy shrub is a Choisya, and it's surrounded by Lavateras. Hee hee...
And no, no, no - the spell-checker isn't really much good. Take, for example, the following gardening sentence:
I've surrounded the choosy shrubs with pink lavatories..
What shrub wouldn't be choosy in such company? Would white lavatories be any better? How about a nice lavatory called Barnsley? Pretty silly, I know, but it's given me hours of amusement.
Roses by the Water
Late Afternoon...
I've been a very thoughtful gardener - I've trimmed Scrophularia and dahlias in the Pond Paddock gardens, and scooped up dead hosta leaves. Everything has gone on a new compost pile.
Moving Plants
Then I collected and wheeled three barrowfuls of tender plants into the glass-house, including the white Pelargonium which is only just flowering. Too late! I've moved other pots into the shelter of the house eaves.
My hands are sore - I am applying foot and heel balm to the sides of my thumbs, which take a real beating (even in gloves). Ouch!
Tuesday 5th May
Right. A half an hour of web-weeding (checking for spelling mistakes) to start my day. Then I'm going to finish laying the stones on the path by the pond's Pump House, spread out the ash, and maybe plant some seedling Fountain grasses. Because my large grasses are so 'generous' (others would call them annoying) I have a ready supply of youngsters. But - and it's a 'big but' - they are so easy to remove if unwanted.
- 'I've surrounded the choosy shrubs with pink lavatories.'
- -Spell-Checked Quote.
Hmm... I've quickly found five more errors, which brings my grand total to 177. One Hundred and Seventy-Seven spelling mistakes! Aargh! (I'm allowed that word)... And I'm allowed sensible made-up words like 'wheelbarrowful' and trailerful', which get the red wiggly line treatment (on my computer, anyway).
And there will be many wheelbarrowfuls wheeled around today. Secretly I am feeling a tiny bit gloomy - more like moochy? It's the realisation that autumn is finishing, the world in turning, the sun is lower in the sky... Nothing to worry about, but this mood would have 'grump' potential if I was stuck inside in bad weather. I guess that lots of gardeners feel autumn as a type of loss and get a bit moochy. Enough! Action! Let the gardening spirits rise!
Later, Mid-Afternoon...
I feel so much better! Let me list the wheelbarrowfuls (there's that word again) - 4 of firewood logs, 6 of stones, 4 of rubbish to be burnt - that I've wheeled around. I finished my gardening session by immersion in the chilly water race. Another part of my underwater stone edge wall is built. I then burnt my rubbish and danced myself warm by the fire (yippee for merino thermal underwear).
Rusty Dog in the Autumn Leaves
It's three o'clock, and already the day feels close to being over. Which it is... Where's my dog? The property has been buzzed a few times by a low flying helicopter (no, I definitely don't grow anything like THAT...) which Rusty has vigorously and noisily chased off. Phew - he's never had a failure, clearing the Moosey airspace. We are now going for a brisk walk up the road - he's been such good gardening company, and I love him to bits.