I’d better make it plain from the start that this won’t be a post full of beautiful garden photos. The main reason for this is that we don’t have a beautiful garden in Wales. In fact after two months away during the best summer for garden growth the UK has seen for years, we barely have a recognisable garden at all and certainly not one I want to take my camera out into.
Oh, the shrubs and plants are still where we left them in June, but the former have mushroomed so alarmingly, and the latter been so overshadowed by what must surely be mutant weeds, that DH and I feel like a geriatric Tarzan and Jane as we struggle to bring some order back into our surroundings. As for the Wild Wood, it has grown so tangled we’re considering renaming it the Wild Jungle and only venturing in there roped together.
Luckily the weather continues to be fine, if much colder today, but my back is starting to creak and I keep taking breaks to catch up with my backlog of blog reading. Meanwhile DH is doing urgent research into the purchase of a seriously powerful brush and grass cutter before the barn across the yard disappears from sight completely. The task of taming the wilderness has taken on a tinge of desperation, since my cataract operation is now only a fortnight away and gardening is on the list of forbidden activities in the immediate post-op period.
Still, the vigorous bending and stretching I’m doing will help to counteract the effects of a summer of French cheese and wine and I’ve just put in a list of book requests on the library website to while away the autumn evenings as the days draw in. It’s good to be to home in Wales for a while. Now where’s that sock I’m knitting for DD?
Image via Google