Sorry, world
What an odd, sad world it is out there, with Covid-19 zooming around. Definitely can't ignore it, but can't let it dominate. So glad I don't have to travel. But it's worrying even for stay-home gardeners too. I feel really sorry for the world, if that makes any sense.
Messy lawn
I think a lot in the garden. I solve my own little problems (a song arrangement that isn't working) and my own big ones (a plan for improving this or that in my life). But, alas, the world's current problem is really sad. Public events keep on being modified and cancelled - should I worry about my choirs? I just don't know. Have turned into a shoulder-shrugger. For now. Wait and see.
A virtual traveller...
Am relieved that my world travel is rather virtual, consisting of watching Youtube videos and reading travel adventure books in bed, from which I get loads of excitement. At the moment I am bumping around outback Australia in a white ute. Australia is full of dreadfully gloomy place names - Mount Miseries, Hopeless Rivers, Desperation Points, and so on... Funny, because Australia always portrays itself as an up-beat, smiley, fun destination.
Winnie :- No more chasing and catching the frisbee. Sorry, Winnie.
In the garden I am ultra-cautious, nothing to do with viruses. It's my dog Winnie, who is banned from jumpy-running or runny-jumping (she has a partially torn cruciate ligament). She is a Border Collie, and loves jumpy running and runny jumping. It is not easy looking after her at the moment, and I'm still making mistakes.
And the garden...
And what about the garden? Oh my goodness! Burnable mess keeps on accumulating - dry bark and leaves from the big gum trees, dead cordyline leaves, dry trimmings from shrubs and perennials. Mess, mess, mess. And then some. But until the fire ban is lifted, I have to let things be. I am not, not, not looking forward to the bonfire season. Aargh! Horrible thought.
Shasta Daisies
Mid Afternoon
I've been thoughtfully weeding and trimming in the Stumpy Garden, which, despite being theoretically under the big irrigation, is horribly dry. And there's no rain forecast for at least two more weeks. I've been trimming the Euphorbias (careful not to splash my face) and pulling out lots of little oak trees.
Now I'm going back out to trim more floppy Shasta daisies. Love them while they're flowering, but oh my they take some cleaning up afterwards!
Later...
Aargh! Both dogs were with Non-Gardening Partner, I had my head down in the garden, scissors clipping merrily. Then Winnie sprinted past, slalomed around the far gate, and sprinted back along the other side of the hedge. Oiy! I shouted. No use. Found her back by the garage (where the silly-running race had started), shut her back in the house. Was furious. Finished my work, came inside, greeted by a stiff, almost three-legged dog. Marched outside and told Non-Gardening Partner off. This injury has to heal. Quiet thoughts about crating her or sending her to kennels.
Allotment Garden Roses
Sunday 15th March
This morning Winnie is staying inside. I am off to sing Orlando de Lassus and contemplate the mysteries of the universe. When I get home I might contemplate the mysteries in my garden. Actually, my garden needs practical maintenance : weed killer (more Californian thistles have appeared in the Hump) and bug spray (a few Viburnums are being nibbled by thrips).
Monarch Butterfly
Most of all I need to start clearing the gum tree mess off the gardens, stashing it in piles ready for the bonfire season. But that could be weeks away. Humph. Only two paragraphs, and have already gone a bit grumpy. Another cup of tea, perhaps?
Thistle!
Much Later...
Got those dodgy thistles - splurt! Nasty things, with long underground running roots. Paddock weeds, really - they shouldn't be allowed in an ornamental garden! Put the hoses on the Allotment Garden, found some beautiful roses flowering - a lemon Pilgrim (I think) and MacGredy's Leonardo da Vinci. Weeded in the Hump and watched the monarch butterflies on the dahlias. Wonderfully soothing for the spirit. Left Winnie inside all afternoon - felt guilty, but it's called tough dog-love, isn't it?
Now it's hamburger time. New Zealand has closed its borders. And there's no cricket. Pretty sad, really.