I’ve had a late flurry. I can’t make up my mind whether they are the last flowers I’ll have in any number before winter really sets in, in which case I really do need to address the situation, or whether they’re the start of something new – the beginning of a new academic year, as it were.
I’m going with the latter. I’ve been rushed off my feet with work and beset by a sudden onset of Mac problems – hopefully sorted; everything is crossed – and I’m being positive.
Pass the gin; my Baby just froze again. Downloaded new Firefox. Fingers crossed. Didn’t work. Now avoiding Firefox – which seems to be a focus – and using Safari. If there’s a sudden break in posts, or a lack of replies to comments, it didn’t work. Maybe it’s time for a new Mac… Shhhhh…
Time to cheer myself up, I think. How about this?
It’s a surprise lily. All my lilies were over, and this one – rescued from Wilkinson’s – was showing no signs of life. Then it suddenly went ‘wazzam!’ and did this. Just in time for the storms, so I snuggled it away behind my porch, protected from both the wind from the sea and the killer easterlies which zoom down the mountains behind the village. Admittedly, that means I don’t see as much of it as I would if it were somewhere a little more convenient, but at least it’s in one piece.
And then there are these, also cuddled away from the winds:
My toad lily has gone a bit bonkers. It’s just as well I didn’t quite get round to creating the new bed, because if I had it would have been blown all the way up and over the mountains and into England.
And it has another neighbour in my little shelter, the lovely new primula, which is also – and rather fortunately – in a pot. There’s something to be said for not getting jobs done, after all.
The rest of the place looks more like a blasted heath than a garden. I keep expecting King Lear to come staggering through – you know, all ‘Blow winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! / You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout / Till you have drenched our steeples!’ The weather’s definitely working on hurricanoes – and here it comes again. But before it really got cracking, I snuck out and managed to get my lovely autumn crocuses captured – oops, I was about to say on film – on camera. And they were lovely. For about a minute.
They’re flat now, of course.
I’ve still got my turquoise wind break up around the veg bed and so the garlic chives are standing relatively tall, but there aren’t as many as usual. That’s possibly because the big brute of a sage has suffocated them. It’s coming out soon, ho ho, all my cuttings having taken (I didn’t want to just rip it up and hurl it on the bonfire heap; it is lovely, but just in the wrong place). Removing it will also give me a chance to excavate the chives and move them too, and increase some space for veg where they can be relatively protected. And in the meanwhile, I’ve got beautiful garlic chive flowers.
And a meadow which is about half the height it was, and which badly needs strimming.
And an awful lot of brown leaves and rowan berries everywhere. Such an early autumn this year, and what a load of berries.
Whenever anyone used to comment on heavy berry crops to my grandfather and say ‘it means a bad winter,’ he would hrumpf and state that all it really meant was appropriate conditions in the previous year, and that trees couldn’t predict the future. All the hawthorns near me are red with berry-laden branches (the wind has stripped their leaves), and the roses are heavy with hips. I guess we shall see soon enough…
And also whether my Baby goes on working as it is at present. I didn’t say anything about a new Mac, I didn’t…