Rain, rain. Don't go away...

Rain, rain. Don't go away. Don't come again another day. Come here right now, settle, and stay! Pretty please. Today would be nice... But rain or no rain, there's still so much to do in the spring garden. And there's also so much to look at and enjoy. Can't have one without the other. Actually, I think I could - but it would require hiring some under-gardeners.

 The only way I can grow them successfully.
Tulips in a Pot

A 'potty person' would be perfect. Suddenly a pot of yellow tulips would appear to light up the path to the cottage, and someone else would have put it there. As well as having mulched the path, and possibly painted the gate into Pond Paddock.

 Pebbles peeping through the gateway.
Spot the Dog?

Oops. That's supposed to be me, me, and me. I have pots to move, mulch to spread, and some rather alarming green exterior paint, ready and waiting to use. Trouble is that it might clash with the lime green Euphorbias. A pretty poor excuse, methinks.

 She loves climbing their fibrous trunks.
Buster in the Cordyline

Cats, plants, and dog toilets...

OK. Today I've had three weeding and watering sessions, each more enjoyable than the one before. The wind has been sooooooo noisy and aggressive. Rude wind, blowing down blossom, roaring around my sensitive ears.

Cat Comment : Buster isn't the slightest bit put off by the wind. She just hangs about checking on progress.

Plant comment : The white variegated honesty seems to have disappeared. Humph. I always scatter the seed pods. Religiously? Something like that.

Dogs Comment : Found one of their dog-toilets in the Frisbee Lawn Border. Knelt in it. Very squishy. Loooovely.

I've bucketed water on all the new roses plus the rugosas in the round Driveway Garden, spread all my horse manure in The Hump, and covered it with mulch. I am planting a row of larger Agapanthus along the long Hump path, little by little. I haven't painted anything except the gnomes in the kitchen.

But I've been a weary watering woman (a 'dub-dub-dub') these last few days. Please, this evening, when serious rain is forecast, let it pour down properly and gently drench everything. But not my camera, which is hanging on a tree, or my garden tools, which are lying about in the lawn. Oops.


The nicest thing about the end of a busy day? The hot shower pouring down on the aching shoulders, of course, but more the joy of popping clean, dust-free feet into clean, snuggly socks. Bliss...

 The very first to flower.
Canary Bird Roses

Thursday 11th October

And where is the rain? It didn't arrive. I woke up a few times in the night just to listen. Nothing. This morning, then, I thought. Lit the wood burner in the house, sorted out some work I had to do for my choir, had breakfast, and waited. And waited...

After an hour decided to 'tempt' it with Sod's Gardening Law. Put the watering hoses on. This would surely bring on the rain! Not a drip. Aargh! So it was garden business as usual - went outside, collected all yesterday's rubbish, cranked up the bonfire, raked, weeded, shifted the hoses...

Later, Mid-Afternoon...

Don't be shy, rain! Just before, a few drops landed on my wheel-barrow. Yeay! I collected up my tools in triumph, but before I'd reached the back door the spitting had stopped. So I watered the new roses (yet again), shifted the hoses (yet again), and now I'm inside (yet again) to do my music work. Rather ironically, I'm writing a three part arrangement of 'I Can't Stand the Rain' for my choir. Ha ha. Very funny.

 In the Driveway Garden.
Spot the Watering Hose

Oooh. Wait. A light pittering-pattering noise like fingers drumming on the roof, and wet splodges on the patio tiles. Yesssssss! Finally!