Tag: gardening

Come into the garden, Maud…

Apologies for the dearth of posts this past week or so.

We’ve done a bit of travelling and are now heavily involved in a village event coming up at the end of May.

The weather here in Dorset is absolutely splendid and it’s wonderful to get out in the garden and soak up the sights and sounds. Flowers are bursting forth from lush green foliage, bees are buzzing and blackbirds are singing their dear little hearts out.

I made the mistake of watching some of the Chelsea Flower Show programmes on the BBC this week.

One was probably enough, to be honest.

I mean, I love seeing the incredible gardens and plants on display but there is only so much I can take of grinning presenters we are clearly meant to know (their names only appear in the credits at the end) and celebrities I have never heard of.

Grayson Perry described Chelsea along the lines of being Middle England’s ‘Glastonbury for people who wear linen’, and he’s not wrong.

There is no way I could cope with all those crowds. I get slight agoraphobia just by watching it on the telly.

So this spring bank holiday weekend, I’m looking forward to spending time in my own glorious garden -small but on the way to being perfectly formed – as the sun beats down from a clear blue sky.

Enjoy the weekend, where ever you are.

Springing forward

There was a real feeling of spring in the air last weekend.

Bees were buzzing, birds sang their little hearts out and everything in the garden looked really lovely. Even the Spanish bluebells were giving it their all, their last hurrah and not realising I was about to dig out the interloping blighters.

In the house, the rays lit up the the dust on the inside of the windows and drew attention to cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. But, to be honest, no-one cared.

It’s amazing what a few days of sunshine can do to uplift the soul, especially at the weekend when more people can enjoy it. Children were playing, building dens, families were out en masse, with big smiles on their faces.

This week, the weather’s been a mixed bag but it’s looking a bit better next week.

Which is great news, because the clocks go forward an hour on Sunday, giving us another hour of daylight in the evening.

No more huddling round the fire and binge watching Landman. It’s time for country walks with the dogs, going down to the beach at West Bay and just enjoying being outside without the heavens opening and grey skies threatening to dampen our spirits.

So remember when you go to bed on Saturday night to put your clock forward an hour.

Can’t wait!

Have a great weekend.

Love, Maddie x

Mr Blue Sky

The sun came out yesterday.

It was such a momentous sight and feeling – that blue sky, the light bringing pizzazz to the flower border and the warmth chilling even the coldest of hearts.

The daffodils seemed to be laughing with joy. The hellebores were positively gloating.

The roses said ‘prune me, prune me!’ and I managed to fill up the garden waste bin with ease.

The dogs chased each other round the garden and then lay, exhausted, on the chippings on the path, Edgar popping up only when he thought I might have a biscuit to share (I didn’t).

And, then, today, we’re back to normal, with grey skies, driving drizzle and worldwide horrors taking centre stage.

It’s the kind of Sunday- in this part of deepest Dorset at least – to listen to the gentle tunes of Cerys Matthews and Guy Garvey on BBC 6 Music.

Ian Dury’s just struck up Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick, which has to be a good sign.

According to the weekly weather forecast, Wednesday’s looking promising.

In the meantime, I’m putting off putting away the winter woollies to make way for the palette of spring, which was one of my jobs today. It just seems too soon.

Anyway, have a great week.

Love, Maddie

How did you use that extra hour?

It’s the day after the clocks went back and it’s one of those Sundays that seems to have gone on and on.

I was up early and did all the ironing, fed the dogs, order a dog harness, water bowl, poo bags and three motion sensor lights for the landing, made a pot of tea, scored eight on my daily popquiz – Popquizza.com – and finished an episode of The Rest Is Politics US before the clock showed seven-fifteen.

By eight o’clock, I’d walked the dogs and was ready for breakfast.

I’ve managed to tick loads of things off my to-do list, although by three o’clock this afternoon I was flagging and the dogs were doing circles because they were so hungry.

Mr Grigg has dug up four lots of leggy lavender for me to replace, and there is more planting to come.

I’ve also gone mad with the bulbs again, ordering with gay abandon from Farmer Gracy and then bricking it when a massive box the size of Matabeleland arrived on the doorstep with a smug look on its face.

It’s half term in Dorset this coming week but no doubt the weather will be dreadful, so the chance of me finding room for 90 narcissi bulbs is pretty remote.

Two years ago, I ordered so many tulips I had to enlist the support of Number One Son and the tiny grandson who waddled around in dear little wellies and was armed with a lethal dibber.

We managed to plant them all but, of course, I was away when they flowered, so I missed the lot.

With just five days of October left, it’s been a busy month.

And now the nights are darker, it’s time for slowly simmered stews, log fires and a ridiculous binge on all four series of Stranger Things to remind myself of the plot and premise before the new one drops at the end of November.

I’m going to try to pull my socks up and blog at least twice a week, but as my late mother used to say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

That’s about it.

Maddie x

Butterfly mind

It’s already been one of those days today. My mind is clearly on too many things.

First of all, I forgot to put a top on when I went downstairs, inavertently wearing just bra and shorts to let the dogs out.

I realised my mistake only when Ruby gave me a disdainful glare.

I then got out the shears and heartily clipped back eleven lavender bushes – luckily, no errors there, unlike Mr Grigg’s brutalisation of my mallow earlier in the week. Which was deliberate.

(I am seething. It’ll take me a while to get over that.)

I’ve told him to keep his hands off the buddleia. He’s not touching that until the late spring. The butterflies agree with me.

Anyway, lavender clipped and cuttings taken and planted, it was time to take the dogs out for a walk.

With ideas going round my head like the smoke effects at a cheap 1970s disco, I managed to put Ruby’s harness on Edgar and wondered why it wouldn’t clip across his ample back properly.

It was only when he gazed up at me, patiently, with big amber eyes that I realised my faux pas.

That’s two things and it’s only mid-morning. I’m waiting for a third.

So don’t ask me to do anything important.

The best I can do for you is post a picture of Ruby doing her usual trick of staring at the geraniums for minutes on end, just in case a bug crawls out of a pot.

I think I might join her.