Well, any day now we shall be saying 'good-bye' to another May. How quickly the months fly by.
I must say that the Hawthorne blossom (or 'May Blossom' as we always called it) has been particularly beautiful this year and so lived up to its name. The blackthorne was beautiful so no doubt we shall have plenty of sloes. I think up here in the Dales we are particularly aware if it because last year we had such a 'cruel' April with very sharp frosts which destroyed much of the early blossom.
In my garden pink is slowly taking over as the predominant colour - pink geranium clumps are all over the garden - don't know its name but it is one of the really common perennial geraniums. Pink alliums are popping up here and there, as is London Pride and a pink flower I was given a snippet of and which I have split up several times and which stays out ages once it is ready. Two large clumps of pink osteo spermum are already out (when the sun is out - if the sun goes in its shows its displeasure). A new osteospermum I bought and put in a pot on the front doorstep (in full sun)is already fast catching up the pink one and certainly has no intention of hiding its light under a bushel. It has turned out to be orange.
Again it has been too windy for Priscilla and me to walk round the block. A whole week has passed and I am trying to do exercises to stop me going backwards, but it isn't the same. I can feel myself stiffening up and can do little about it. Tonight is the last Chelsea Flower Show. I shall miss it although as someone said on here earlier in the week, they do show the same gardens over and over. Perhaps they show it all for a bit too long.
My friend S has just been with lovely brown eggs from their hens. Nothing like a fresh brown egg with a yolk of pure gold. The hens have the run of most of the garden (but not where the veggies are or there would be no fresh veggies.) Nothing else of interest has happened so I will sign off until tomorrow - see you all then.
I don't know whether to blame it on being retired so that I can't separate week days and week ends in my head or whether it is plain 'old age' but I can rarely name what day it is without a lot of deep though This morning I woke up thinking it was Saturday. Now I know it is Friday but in my head it will be Saturday all day. Now I shall go and read 'Friday's paper' - that is one way to help a bit. See you later.
Well it is now seven pm (and only an hour to the last programme on the Chelsea Flower Show.) and it is still blowing a howling (and very cold) ga