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Sunday, 29 June 2014

nips, tucks and nuptials

rosa rambling rector
Due to a wedding in their original field, the horses are back again in the yurt field. It's like they are on a piece of elastic. I'll keep them there for a while now - the grass has got so long they are nibbling in to it as if they were eating asparagus tips. I can only give them such a tiny piece at a time as there is so much of it - but Harry is so greedy he is tucking into the hedgerow and all that is sprouting from it. Glad to see he's eating  the nettles. He must be desperate.

And talking of weddings -  the other day hundreds of these moths flew into the dog's room through the French windows - fluttering around as if they were confetti. I have never seen so many of them. Perhaps they all hatched at once and had been hiding under the computer table.


The house is full of the heavy scent of perfume at the moment with these Dianthus Mrs Sinkins(see below) which just have to be picked as they sprawl all over the place -  and the continuing sweet peas and lilies and branches of Philadelphus Belle Etoile. We have a friend staying with us who suffers from hayfever (and animal fluff) so we 've tried to keep the perfume isolated but you can't really - it just wafts around going where it pleases.

 I love this onopordum acanthus which is towering at about ten feet. They are only biennial but once you've got one you'll always have them and Nature - who I think is the best garden designer of all - sets them up in perfect places. This one is a little close to the washing line but what's a snagged cardi when you have something so magnificent? It's also known as the Scottish thistle and it does look as if it could be sprouting from the head of the Monarch of the Glen.


 This is one of my favourite pelargoniums - Lord Bute. He's such a great colour and with any luck will have surpassed all other pelargoniums by the end of the summer. Of course it isn't only luck - I have to remember to water it. We haven't had rain for weeks and things are very hard and dry but we had a downpour yesterday which made everything look like Glastonbury festival. We did get caught out in it taking the horses back to that yurt field. I had some waterproofs on but Beezle hates getting wet and has to be towelled down. Still, as he and Alexander Woolcott (1887-1943) would say " I must get out of these wet clothes and into a dry martini.

I expect Lord Bute would have said it too.

 I must say I'm really missing my poly tunnel ducks. There are loads of slugs and snails there now even if my labels are still where I put them. And these naughty boys in the garden are really into big nips on the back of your legs as you battle with the onopordum acanthus to de-snag the cardigan.



Wedding (1996)
Alice Oswald

From time to time our love is like a sail
and when the sail begins to alternate

from tack to tack, it’s like a swallowtail

and when the swallow flies it’s like a coat;

and if the coat is yours, it has a tear

like a wide mouth and when the mouth begins

to draw the wind, it’s like a trumpeter

and when the trumpet blows, it blows like millions…

and this, my love, when millions come and go

beyond the need of us, is like a trick;

and when the trick begins, it’s like a toe

tip-toeing on a rope, which is like luck;

and when the luck begins, it’s like a wedding,

which is like love, which is like everything.

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