On the face of it there hasn’t been much to celebrate recently. For quite a while now. Most of the reasons, and there have been a fair few, have been, and are continuing to be, well documented. Too many commas? Perhaps. In our little corner, just to add some spice to the mix, we have a new leak at the back of the house and our boiler threw a hissy fit on Tuesday and will not be fixed (at the earliest) until Monday. Good job it isn’t cold and wet and miserable, that would be truly horrendous. Wait a minute …….. Still, where there is life and a multi-pack of kettle crisps there is hope and there is generally something to smile about in the garden. My Six on Saturday will therefore be a celebration. I will not be thwarted. Not this week anyway. If you would like to read the rest of the gangs’ contributions, a lovely optimistic lot they are too, pop on over to The Maestro Prop’s site to find out what is going on across the globe and beyond.
First we have a primula, and a rather lovely one at that. It has been left to its own devices and, as things do, it has bulked up in a pleasing way over the last few years. I don’t remember planting it, but this means little.
Now the seed head of Micanthus nepalensis, its contents jettisoned. The skeleton a reminder of what was and what is to come.
A large piece of this rosemary snapped off a few weeks ago. “Helpfully”, and yes the inverted commas are significant, my OH tidied up the broken piece that was sheltering a friendly snail. Although a little battered, the flowers are defiant.
Well hello Muscari latifolium, please feel free to grow and become the beauty you are destined to become. No need to be shy, we are all friends here.
I love the fiery red that some of the Pelargonium cordifolium var. rubrocinctum leaves have turned this winter. Although this could possibly indicate stress, unhappiness or indeed despair, I dismiss this negativity and just enjoy the show. Harsh, and not in the slightest bit fair.
And to conclude I will share something that is not lurking in my garden. I hope I am forgiven. Let me take you to the romantic setting of an industrial estate on the edge of Bideford, not far from the recycling centre and around the corner from the furniture warehouse. It was here, after 34 years of unwedded bliss, myself and OH had a civil partnership. It was very low key, just ourselves and our witnesses, the glorious Lord and Lady Mantle. We then scooted off to the Burton Art Gallery for lunch. As would befit the ocassion, myself and OH had chips and beer whilst the Mantles enjoyed galettes and fizz. The sun shone. It was lovely. Although to be honest Lady M. could have looked a little jollier. I am also slightly concerned that it was the registry office we visited and not Screwfix …..
Stay well friends, keep your chins pointed towards the sky and don’t lose the faith. ‘Til next time.