Archive | March 2017

Pretty Average – But Apparently Good At One Thing!

Great post Gail.
Evelyn

jennie orbell

As most of you know I’m not the kind of person to blow my own trumpet. Never have been. Never will be. And why should I? What’s so great about me? Nothing. I’m pretty average at most things, slightly better at some than others, and before you go thinking that I’m expecting you to rush in with, ‘Of course you are special’ and ‘look at all the things you’ve achieved in your long time on the planet,’ that is NOT where this is leading. This is leading to actually being surprised at learning, straight from the horse’s mouth, Richard, that I AM really good at something.

So, this is how it went – I was in the garden busily minding my own business and watching the garden coming to life before my eyes when, he stomped up the garden and shattered the moment.

‘Can you come and look at this?’…

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Those Weeds Fight Back . . . And How!

Poor you. Gail. Getying old is a b+***++er. Easy does it now.
Hugs Evelyn

jennie orbell

There was I – full of the joys of spring and, fuelled by my over enthusiasm, I declared to my newly formed gardening group, ‘I’m off to weed a border!’ No harm there. Nothing at all ominous about that. Just off to weed a border at the side of the path.

Two hours later and after tugging, pulling, swearing and sweating I stood up, stood back, and admired my work. Brilliant! Nothing short of brilliant. Gone was the awful couch grass invading from my neighbour’s garden and tangling itself around willow roots and under the path. Gone were the thick, stubbornly rooted spring-flowering creeper thingy’s. Just lovely rich soil smiled back at me. Happy with my work I toddled back into the house. This was Saturday.

At 3 a.m. Sunday I woke thinking someone had dropped a house brick on my head. The pain was excruciating – I kid you not…

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First March Blog

First March Blog.

March.

Marching in
Like a damp mackintosh,
Occasional sunshine
And the Mac steams.
Or wind blows fierce,
Knocking down trees,
Blowing fences flat,
Lifting fur on the dog,
Tail of the cat.
Mud everywhere,
Even when rain ceases,
Mud below the surface,
Clinging to shoes
The toddlers wear,
Climbing the high boots
Fashion concscious
Dog walkers sport
Down the lanes,
Over the fields.
Billowing cloud
Scudding across
A grey sky.
These are March days.
How long will they last?

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. March, 2017.

This month is again crawling along, one day fine and warming a little more, the next day grey, windy and much cooler. Some plants seem to be pushing ahead, sprouting leaves, giving hope for the future. Others not moving at all.

True, there are spring blooms adorning gardens and those roadway triangles just before roundabouts. Yellow daffodil heads blowing in the breeze stirred by lorries, cars and buses as they traverse the circular roadway. A sign that spring is close, even though the weather is undecided right now.

My trugs are full of blooms, raked about by that squirrel but decidedly giving me a run for my money. Lots of differently shaped dwarf daffs, hyacinths in three colours, white, blue and purple. The odd late-blooming crocus that was possibly planted deeper than it should have been when that squirrel reorgnised my planting arrangement.

I have also spotted one of the Freesias with the odd bud lurking for a little later. There were quite a few of those and I can see more leaves of that kind, so there may be more flowers, at some point. I was told that they should have been planted indoors. Too late. I hcad already planted them at that point of findung out, week later.

Just wait, this month will fly by and soon April will be here and summer will rush towards us at the speed of bullets. Then, it will be gone.

Do you remember how slowly a year moved when you were at school? Young and fresh with a long summer holiday ahead! Those were the days. Or were they?

As always, be safe in the world out there.

Evelyn

Under the weather

I am always attentive to weather but cannot read many if the signs, though maybe the few, red sky at night eyc. Good post Sue.
Evelyn.

The Silent Eye

It is spring and here, that can mean anything. For many it means being ‘under the weather’ with colds, viruses and the other miseries that attend the change of season. Yesterday was as warm as a summer’s day… the day before was wintry cold and rainy. Tomorrow…who knows?  The forecast suggests it will be archetypically English and grey but it is entirely possible that it could snow. Or we may be wandering round in shirt sleeves complaining at the sudden ‘heatwave’. We seldom believe the forecast.

Like most countries, Britain has a rich weather lore and we are probably more likely to believe that it will rain if the cows are laying down than whatever the official forecast tells us. And if it rains on St Swithun’s day, 15th July, well, it will continue for a good while to come. The story goes that the Saxon bishop of Winchester chose…

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This entry was posted on March 14, 2017. 2 Comments