Today Lord and Lady Mantle were called away on top secret business, possibly something to do with road testing custard slices, but I can’t be certain. I was left to my own devices. Dangerous you might think. And I wouldn’t blame you.
By nature I am a flitter, jumping from one task to another and back again. This doesn’t work well when you are working with other more methodical folk. Being home alone meant I could dance around to my heart’s delight. Two days of dry weather gave perfect seed collecting weather, if you discount the gale force wind. I trimmed back the black elder and tree peony, allowing plenty of space for the soon to be on site Men with Machines who are going to trim/butcher the leylandii. Pots of pelargoniums and dahlias were moved to the greenhouse, I dug up the black zantedeschia and chocolate cosmos to keep them company. Weeds were ousted and prize winning compost incorporated.
They returned just in time for His Lordship to make me a quail toastie and pour me a pint of claret for lunch. No one mentioned custard slices. Mum’s the word.
Although there is still much colour in the garden, gazanias, alonsoa and osteospermums, I loved the muted, stone-washed tones of this lace-cap hydrangea.