Gardening, music, dogs...
Pink Spiky Dahlia
I'm having a garden and music arranging day today, alternating between both. The tune de jour? What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life. And what exactly am I doing with mine? Hopefully gardening! My first task is to dead-head dahlias and trim Anemanthele grasses (they're now in seed, flopping over paths, easy to trip over).
Wednesday 5th February
Eek! Country wildlife! There I was enjoying my morning coffee on the patio table, my two dogs snoozing peacefully nearby. A mother duck waddled over the front lawn towards us, closely followed by just one duckling.
Panic!
Panic! My younger dog Pebbles chases ducks and kills ducklings (unless I can stop her in time, sorry about this). Dogs inside! Treats for dogs! Pebbles! Treats! Phew. We all went inside, while duck and duckling scurried back towards the pond.
Much later...
After two barrowfuls and two drafts of the score, a serious musical issue - the key is all wrong, has to go down a perfect fourth, which completely mucks up the voicings of the harmony. And an unscheduled visit by the two brown dogs Escher and Frida, who are sleeping over. One just picks oneself up and carries on, right? Fixing the music score should be easy, right?.
Brown Dogs in the Garden
And while on the subject of dogs, Winnie's back end is not working properly - she's falling over every day. But she doesn't seem to be in pain, and was very excited to see the visitors. I'm worrying, though.
Gladiolus and Dahlias
Thursday 6th February
Oh joy. Have just been for a rather early morning walk with the brown dogs, old Escher (rather deaf) on lead. Tried to drink my cup of tea en route, and also get some flowers for the house. Impossible - picked one gladiolus, got wound up in Escher's lead, spilt tea on my jeans. Gardening with the brown dogs will be equally interesting. My garden smells amazing to them, and the smallest dead thing will be sniffed out and (probably) eaten. We will try for a photo shoot in a few minutes. Something to do.
Much, much later...
I did manage a spot of dog-gardening. It was all very relaxed until young Frida spied black Buster the cat in the distance. Oops. Early evening we took the brown dogs home, and on our return the two Fred wandered into the house carefully, checking around corners, just in case a brown dog had been left behind.
Normal service resumed...
So normal service has been resumed. I swear that the cats watch the dogs going off down the drive in the car, count to fifty, then emerge from their hiding places.