Painting...

I am 'wooded' out! Another big day shifting firewood logs, and no energy (or time) left over for anything else. I so looking forward to rejoining the ranks of the pottering and tinkering low-impact gardeners. Am I? To making tiddly little decisions about rose pruning - this bud? Or that one? Here - or here?

 In the Hump.
The Last of the Logs

Picking up tiddly little weeds that hardly fill the wheelbarrow. Trundling around molto adagio with path mulch, nothing too heavy. Spreading horse manure, one bag at a time, nothing too strenuous. Nothing that involves heaving large logs of water-saturated wood around.

Paint the gnomes...

Aargh! The morning started a bit damp, so I decided to start painting my gnomes. They've been waiting patiently in the kitchen for a wee while now.

 New clothes!
Alphonse, Boris and Caractacus

All is not going well, and already there is dissent. They don't like the pastel green. Not manly enough, apparently. And a complete revolt against lilac trousers, so I've had to repaint all of these a darker crushed grape colour. Right. They can jolly well put their complaints in writing. I'm off gardening.

 Staring at me.
Pebbles

Ten Minutes Later...

Oops. So sorry, garden. But my back feels worn, stiff, a bit sore from the weekend's log throwing and rolling. And then, on cue, it started drizzling again. The dogs and I wandered around slowly, then we checked the bird feeders and came inside. I've taken a pill, and put my slippers on. Might try and finish these gnomes. So ungrateful. Have threatened them with yellow pants and rainbow shirts...

Later in the week...

Oops. Another day spent painting gnomes, with no more mutterings. Now everyone has dark grey shoes and red hats, and their faces and hands are a healthy pink. Another day with a slightly sore back - lots of dog walks, but no bending and no lifting. Fifteen more bags of horse manure arrived, too. I am getting behind!

Wednesday 4th July

Aargh! I've spent three days now nursing my semi-sore back - mooching around the house, watching the wee birdies fluttering all over their lard ball, and taking my dogs for the slowest of slow walks around the garden. And painting! The gnomes are now ready for the final touches - eyes, wheelbarrows and shovels, and mushrooms (where applicable).

 The adirondacks, shifted around nearer the big gum tree.
These Seats Need Painting Too!

My back is still a bit achy from the weekend, so the garden, although it beckons, has to be ignored. Mind you, sitting on my bottom and weeding might be the answer. But in winter it's more pleasant to move around while gardening... Which brings me back to my back! Ouch!

Later...

No gardening. Sorry. Second coat of scarlet red for the hats, and now I'm off to a choir rehearsal. Tra la la. My friend has given me a pot of paint called 'parsley'. Sounds gnomish. Over and out.