Wrapped in enough layers to keep me warm and dry but not too many so I can not bend or kneel, I went off to work early doors this morning.
There is a sharp metallic tang to the air and a bite in the temperature. Tiny airborne raindrops swirl around, dampening my fringe and making my glasses mist up. And that furry idiot I call my dog is in such a good mood that she is being delightfully annoying!
The village hill (not actually ours but a very prominent backdrop to our lives) is hidden beneath a thick duvet of low cloud which is promising to do more than just linger. The weather forecast confirms the same.
Walkers and farmers pass by, some just nodding a brief greeting others stopping to chat so gardening is gently put on hold until I can return to the mud. It is that time of year, when the garden is having her last hurrah before slumping down to sleep where roses still have buds, honeysuckle blossom still smells sweet, geums still nod their brightly orangey red Mrs Bradshaw heads and weeds still cheerfully grow faster than I can remove them out from the cracks in the old cobbled courtyard.
It is only when I notice the compost wheelie bin is almost filled to the brim that I realise the hill behind has completely vanished and the loitering clouds are now releasing sheets of rain across the moor not far from where I am working.
Time to get moving. Making sure everything is left tidy and a dilly dog is rounded up along with my muddy tools, we leave and head home.
Just in time it seems.
Time for a mug or two of tea then a shower for all concerned. Hope your Wednesday is a little drier than mine 😊🐕🌱
I am supposed to be working today, but the weather report and the view through the window have confirmed that is certainly not happening. I have spoken to my client and she is quite happy for me to take a rain check (appropriate) until later on in the week when hopefully it will have fined up.
My brother and sister in law live in southern Scotland in a lovely 'but-n-ben' wee hoos on a farm with their neighbour being both friendly and their landlord. He works for the local council upgrading the social housing and saves anything which has been thrown out as part of the make over. So he has a barn full of vintage zinc tanks, copper pipes and wooden panelling. My brother told me of such treasures, so in August when we were up there, I asked to see.
Himself's face when he saw me lugging back three (rather heavy) zinc tanks full of happy chatter of what I was going to do with them! The tanks have quietly sat in my greenhouse for the last couple of months waiting for their moment. And Sunday was it!
We have a row of large tubs either side to the entrance to our back yard and I was waiting for the sweet peas and clematis to fade and the roses to finish flowering so I could cut them back ready to be transplanted into the zinc tanks.
The over flow pipes had to be either screwed or sawn off and drainage holes drilled in the base (wow that was harder than I expected) and despite wearing ear defenders I could hear it was loud, apparently several blokes (neighbours) all popped out to see what was happening.... Himself just rolled his eyes and said ..... she's making planters and all the men nodded in sympathy for him 😄
I no longer have the strength in my hands I used to and I have to think differently if I am doing something that requires 'blokey brute force'. Handling the tanks and the trugs of soil took some careful planning and judicial using of a wheelbarrow and various levering tools but I got there.
On a rather dreary damp mid autumnal morning where walking into the garden means returning with a wet dog with wet paws, dripping plants and damp feet (should have put my wellies on.....)
I'd come across Rambling in the Garden a few weeks ago around the time blogger was playing up and one of it's little nasty tricks was not letting me comment on other folk's blogs. Rambling posts a regular floral Monday called 'In a Vase on Monday' (IAVOM) and I thought I would join in.
My garden sadly has a very short flowering season courtesy of neighbouring trees which over the years have grown such that I now and the 'proud' owner of an almost fully shady garden😡. Hey ho.
So, to go out and choose something to pick made me have to look very closely at the bedraggled perennials and shrubs and to my surprise I have found enough to fill a vase. Albeit supplemented by seed heads, pods and foliage - but it is still a vaseful of the garden now inside the house.
A short post today - I have my folks coming round shortly and we have to sort out all sorts on online stuff they struggle with. Being out in the garden despite the rain and wet dog footprints - certainly has helped.
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As an antidote - I have been both baking and cooking.
More spicy pumpkin soup to be eaten with crusty bread. And for the first time ever, I saved the seeds, seasoned and roasted them with great success. So much so we have bought a huge bag from a reputable wholesaler and when they land, I shall be roasting them for snacking :)
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I had issues finding four frames that suited not just the art work, but the owners and their décor however eventually I managed it.
Whilst the gifts were being unwrapped, in the corner of my eye I caught Himself's face and suddenly realised he would have been more than happy to have one of his grumpy cat too and dearly wished I had thought of that before. So I planned that as soon as I could I would paint one just for him.
Then, in February took early retirement and found that I could hardly hold a paintbrush and when I did, the results were not what I was aiming for. So I put away my paints and literally closed the door to my art desk. Fast forward to October and I tried again.....
All my doubts about my work vanished with his delight, I am very aware that I can not paint with the preciseness I used to be able to do, I can not grip a brush with pin point hair by hair painting any more - so I was, to be perfectly honest, disappointed with my efforts. But it appears he certainly wasn't 💗 .
It was rather dark first thing this morning when I stumbled out of the kitchen door down to the garden for Willow. She scampers off without a care while I need a torch and mutter evil things about my overgrown garden.
It is still incredibly dry and scorched down there and only now, now that summer has ended has South Yorkshire declared a drought situation - surely earlier in the year would have been advisory?
We also visited the Yorkshire Sculpture Park at West Bretton on the Saturday as a birthday treat for Himself.
We worked our way down from the main building and it was interesting to see how varying the reactions were to some of the art works. Damien Hirst's The Virgin Mother is one that Himself and I know and have seen around however the younger four were rather taken aback with one quite revolted by the 'stripped back' half of the sculpture.
No it isn't pretty however, art is supposed to make you think... question ... love...hate.... what ever - but it is supposed to trigger thought and discussion - so this one certainly did.
