I am a gardener...

 Love them!
Red Hot Pokers

I am a gardener. Not a swimmer, or a reader, or a doer of jigsaws. Definitely not a shopper, or a cafe coffee drinker (have already done a bit of all the above, hee hee).

Put on the gardening boots...

And gardeners wear gardening clothes and gardening boots, right? So that's my first task. Then they slop on sun screen, collect their hand tools (oh dear - hope I can find everything), find somewhere nice in the shade, and get started. Yeay!


OK. I sorted out the final path which needed sorting in the Hump Garden. I weeded, scraped, laid log edges, divided and replanted Agapanthus, and dug out rogue potatoes. Alas, a branch of the beautiful lime green Cercis tree had split and broken, so I sawed that off. Both the Buddleias are now in full flower, though the white one does that old Camellia trick - the older racemes are very brown and very noticeable. But hey! No problem. And I could trim them off...

 In the Hump Garden next to the white one.
Purple Species Buddleia

Have come in for a drink, having left all my hand tools in the garden. This should mean I return to pick them up, and do a bit more work. Although it might mean that I leave them out there. Oops.

 Coming quite close to me now, but not happy to be touched.
Speckles the Visiting Cat

Later still...

Had a lovely catty afternoon tea with Minimus the cottage cat and Speckles the stray, while Red Fred sat on the far fence-post keeping an eye on us. Speckles has perfected the art of the garden sneak-around. I spied him over in the far Pond Paddock garden, rather too close to Fred. Kept watch (didn't dare call out), and suddenly he popped out from underneath the cottage.

Clever Speckles...

Clever Speckles. He accepted a few more chin tickles today, with less alarm in those speckly eyes. He warms my already overcrowded-with-cats heart.

And then I remembered to collect my hand tools and dump my mess. Yeay! Life is good and my Hump garden is looking amazing.

Sunday 23rd January

A rather different day. Again, I was going to be a gardener. But it started drizzling. So I did my jigsaw, painfully slowly, putting in twenty pieces. Then the drizzle went all blobby. I drank a cup of coffee. The rain turned back into drizzle. I put twenty more pieces of jigsaw in. What to do? Get muddy and wet, or wash my hair and read my book?

 Smoke Bush.

You can see this isn't going very far. Am off for a garden walk to reconsider my options.


My shoes (and socks) got really wet. I said hello to some dripping roses, took a photograph of the Red Hot Pokers, and that was that. No stray cat visits and not even a decent dog walk - Winnie has cut her hind paw pad.