Hello there ...
After a rain drenched night things picked up a little by mid morning .... so I played out in the garden for a bit.
The leaves are turning ... and the colours are just lovely ... a last vibrant blast before the cold dreary months of winter.
Just look at this teeny tiny leaf caught by its much bigger brother ...as it fluttered to the ground.
Pretty colours...
And fascinating shapes and sizes
.... all make up the natural world.
I had a good sweep up of the brown slimy leaves ... useful for the garden when broken down ... all that goodness .... but lethal on my paths.
It takes little for me to fall over without the hazard of slippy leaves ... so I think this will be only the first of many trugs of leaves I will be sweeping up.
And here we see the promise of things to come
... little parcels of delight ... seeds for new strong plants ... to delight us once again.
I roped Hubby P into helping me move this grass ... I know it as Gardeners Gaiters.
This stripy little number speaks to me of 'Home' .... when I was growing up it was one of the things that grew with great gusto (rampant) in a somewhat difficult environment up on the Pennine moors.
It has taken me years to get it to 'do' ... to grow here in my garden ( I don't know why .. just one of those things).
Anyway we are planning on having a new fence where the grass grew ... so I needed to move the grass and keep it safe ... I know ... a bit silly perhaps.
I thought the old tin bath would be a good idea ... the grass would look good against the green of the cabin .. and if/when the grass gets really going (rampant ?) the bath will keep it in check.
Don't we put a lot of thought into this gardening business
... do you ponder on such things?
... should I put my energies .. my mind to other more worldly issues? ... I don't know whats going on in Syria.
Is that a bad thing
.... I just can't cope with caring for all the world ... and my garden is my escape.
Speaking of escape .... Hubby P decided the way to get the remainder of the apples from the tree was to whack them off with the washing line prop/stick thingy.
'Get ready' he would say ... as he got ready to whack a great big apple ...and it would come thundering down through the tree.
If he thinks I am standing under it trying to 'catch' ... hes sadly mistaken thought I !
One of those missiles would knock me for six.
I've never been any good as a 'catcher' ... anything to do with chasing balls around a court or pitch ... shrieking at other girls ... not really my strong point .
Show me a kitchen ... I will cook for you ... I will sew for you... nurse you ... listen to you and counsel ... but don't ask me to risk life and limb catchin an apple!
So all the apples were bruised and battered through falling heavily on the ground ... so I've just finished peeling and chopping .... more in the freezer and more jelly on the way.
Perhaps I should have tried harder at the Hockey!
Bye for now x
