Not all that warm this morning but quite Spring-like. I had a burst of energy, although really not feeling all that well at the moment. I had missed our last recycling day because there was a gale blowing and on such occasions I don't put my newspapers and cardboard out as it tends to sail down the road - the prevailing wind being West and my road being directly West to East that is not surprising.
So after my morning tidy up I loaded all the papers, tins, plastics and bottles into the boot of my car and drove to the tip. I had a letter to post anyway and wanted to make sure it went today so it was convenient to post it at the entrance to the Sorting Office.
Tess came along and on the way back we drove a little bit further and went down the Lane to our old farm. There we walked down the pasture as far as the beck at the bottom of the field. There are one or two daffodils out in the wood and the bluebells are just coming out too. But best of all - the marsh marigolds are out on the beck - they were the favourite of both the farmer and myself and he always came in and told me when the first bud came out.
Coming back I saw a Yellowhammer. We had two pairs when we lived there - they came to the bird table every day. It is good to see that they are still about. I didn't see a single rabbit - and that is a first in the whole twenty five years since I first moved in there.
After lunch and a short walk with Tess I planted several border plants which I had grown from cuttings over the winter. Since then I have done very little other than a teatime walk with Tess and catching up with a gardening programme on television. I am becoming a bit of an armchair gardener I am afraid - I take after my father. In the days when I used to write so-called 'Poetry (a misnomer if ever there was one) I wrote this little poem about my father and his gardening:
The Armchair Gardener.
Swathes of poppies,
Banks of delphiniums,
Fronds of ferns and a
cascade of pools.
He planned it all
from the comfort of his armchair.
Outside
the golden dandelions
and a rash of purple thistles
painted their own canvas.
About Me
- The Weaver of Grass
- I am a widow for the second time - first marrriage 39 years, second marriage 23 years - both very happy. My second marriage was to a farmer and when he died the farm was sold. I now live in the nearby small town on the edge of Wensleydale in The Yorkshire Dales. My beloved Border Terrier died a couple of years ago - I still miss her but as I am 90 and need carers I shalln't get another I have one son,who lives nearby with his wife, three grandchildren, one step grandchild, two great grandchildren and two step great grandchildren..Life is good.
nothing wrong with a bit of snow.
Do you like my new bed?
Whatever you are - come out!
Do you like my new hairdo?
My Blog List
Well, are we going for a walk or what?
Come out rabbits! We know you're in there!
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My latest photograph.
Look how I've grown!
Best buddies
17 comments:
Love the poem!! So like our garden. Seen through squinty eyes it looks fine.
All the rabbits are here in our garden in Scotland - I will send you some!!
Our garden is also full of Marsh Marigolds too they are such lovely plants - untouched by the rabbits.
Great poem - my husband is that sort of gardener too.
I managed a cycle ride and then found enough energy to cut the grass!
What a coincidence, I have just written on justjill's blog that I have never seen a Yellow Hammer and there you are writing about them.
Briony
x
A very nice poem and a fairly good description of parts of my garden.
That's a great poem! If left to my own devices, my kind of gardening, too. How sweet to visit the old beck and see the marsh marigolds.
Your poem is lovely. It could be written about me at this time of my life. The survivors in my gardens of neglect are bravely making a showing in spite of the weeds that will soon overtake them. It was so enjoyable when I was able to dig and plant, but there's a time for everything. My time for that is past!
I'm glad you and Tess visited the farm. Wishing you a happy Sunday, Pat!
I love your poem! Does Tess like to go with you in the car? Many dogs seem to love car rides. I imagine they like a change of scenery too.
I am an armchair gardner. I do very little now and I miss it.. Your poem is lovely and so true.
Today I had a long talk with my handyman/gardener about somethings that need to be done before the monsoons come.
cheers, parsnip
I love marsh marigolds and they are rather rare around here. There used to be a place where I saw one big plant bloom every spring and then one year it was gone. I always wondered whether someone had dug it up ( from a bank beside a road) and taken it home for their own garden.....Your poem is charming, good sense of humor and philosophy in it, too.
It was a beautiful hot day here yesterday, so I mowed everywhere. You could hardly imagine the amount of Dandelions I must have destroyed. One lawn was just yellow.
It was cold here. I chilled out.
I believe we have mentioned the nationwide decline of rabbits before, thanks to the viral disease that is killing them, the same disease that now appears to be spreading to hares. I do wonder if your body is reminding you that you are of an age that you should be taking it easier than you often do. Not always easy to accept.
Looks like today is set to be fairly warm and sunny and appears that our White-fronted Geese have now returned to their breeding grounds in Northern Europe and I'm looking forward to the first Swallows.
A beautiful little poem, and I hope the sight of those daffodils, bluebells and marsh marigolds in their natural habitat lifted your spirits and that you will soon be feeling better. How wonderful to see a yellow hammer. I haven't seen one since childhood.
I often have to remind myself how old I am and that there is no need to hurry through the days. Enjoy a relaxing Sunday.
Your day sounds perfect, and I love the poem. We do have rabbits but unfortunately some of them seem to be affected by the disease mentioned by Derek. The others are making a beeline for our veg garden.
A fabulous poem. I love the changing rhythms and length of line. Nowadays we’re being told to let our dandelions and thistles thrive for the sake of the insects. I’m so used to dead heading dandelions as they appear but I should maybe reconsider.
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