A little blue

I know I'm probably just coming down from the effects of the last few days of chicken related excitement (!), but today I'm feeling seriously underwhelmed with myself.

It hasn't helped I suppose that after a morning ticking irritating, mostly administrative chores off my to-do list (which should make me feel achieved, surely?) I spent the afternoon discovering how truly maddening and possibly pointless it is trying to weed out bluebells...

There are a number of places in the garden where these otherwise pretty and classic flowers are seeding themselves around to such an excessive extent that they are smothering out the other plants and generally not welcome - mainly the circle bed, the rose divider bed and the corner by the water tap which seems to have nothing surviving now except bluebells.

As we had begun last night the task of burying the lead out cable in trunking under the ground so the children don't trip over it, it seemed a good idea to make a start on weeding and tidying the rose divider border so that the trunking could also be dug in just along the back edge of the border soil on its route towards the chicken gate.... Seemed a straight forward enough task - admittedly quite a sizeable weeding job, coupled with a much needed bit of lawn edge neatening... which turned into a mammoth, frustrating, back breaking few hours in which I succeeded in clearing about a sixth of what actually needs to be done.

I was not assisted by the fact that the soil here is still really wet and claggy.  And the fact that I have discovered that the bluebell bulbs are about a foot down at least.  Even when well loosened by the garden fork, they also have the annoying tendency for the leaves to just come away, leaving the bulb still down there somewhere, to fight me another day/year/decade.  And of course the border is also full of daffs and narcissi, which are practically indistinguishable when you're trying to dig bluebells out.  Also I'm paranoid about upsetting the rose bush roots even though I probably won't like half the roses that are there, it still seems wanton violence to kill them at this point just before the flowering season when they could at least be judged on their merits!  As if to drive the point home they kept stabbing me with their thorns whilst I struggled with their recalcitrant bed mates.

At this rate I am certainly not looking forward to this task in the circle bed, where they simply must come out or I won't have any room for my bee and bird plants and no colour after May!

To sum up how I feel now - incompetent, overwhelmed, useless.

I feel like I am struggling against an over-powerful tide to try and create something, anything in this garden that is me, mine, ours, rather than theirs.  It doesn't help that grandma always seems to give the distinct impression that she is patiently waiting for me to fail - as she always knew I would.

And today I feel as if she is right.

I need a vision for what I want this place to become.  A clear view ahead, so that even if it is many years away from being achieved (at least I learned that valuable lesson from the old house), on days like today at least I would be able to see that I might be inching towards it, have something to cling to.  At the moment I am flailing about in the semi-dark, occasionally grabbing at passing glimpses of what I might want to do.

I am scared.  It's such a big job.  I'm scared of failing.  I'm scared of not knowing what I want the end result to be.  I need a clearer vision.  But my head is spinning with stuff - I can't make coherent sense of it all right now.

How should I start? How should I stop myself from feeling this sense of being overwhelmed and incompetent?

The Chickenfest continues...

Sorry, folks but the excitement level due to our new arrivals is still so high that I can't help it!

And it's not just me who's heart is all of a flutter for these gorgeous girls, honest...

The ladies take their first 'free' stroll around their new home

Queenie and Delia showing off their best side...

I'm going to have to watch that Delia - she is a diva and no mistake...if anyone attempts a flying break out, it will be her!

"Excuse me, have you applied for a paparazzi licence?"

I was discussing with a hen keeping friend this morning, the swiftness with which Butterscotch the Rhode Island Red managed to achieve her 'chief in charge' position.  She said she wasn't surprised as they are known for their 'confidence'...and to be honest I couldn't think of a more apt description for this bird from what we've seen so far.  She is certainly confident!  Not only with the other birds but also with us mere humans, and in particular the children.

They are desperate to 'practice' their chicken handling (cuddling?) skills, and I have to be quite stern at times to remind them the difference between calmly following a hen and picking her up, and actually chasing her around!  But Butterscotch is remarkably patient and tolerant of their clumsy manoeuvres, and so she is proving a good trainer.

Margot, in a brief moment of respite between 'cuddles'

Interestingly Margot - in the lower half of the pecking order at the moment - also has proved to be amenable to the children's regular 'handling', although sadly for L, his personal choice of pet chicken Bluey the Fenton Blue is still the shyest and almost impossible to get hold of.

But all in all, considering they have been with us barely 2 days, all the ladies are coming out to chat and wander around happily when we are nearby or in the enclosure.  They have obviously been accustomed to being handled and chatted to.

In other news:

The site of the soon-to-be new wood shelter has been measured, drawn out, pondered and discussed and (since this photo was taken) cleared of assorted detritus in readiness for timber ordering and commencement during the upcoming Bank Holiday weekend.

I do hope my plans for us all to have the Saturday out at Powderham Castle enjoying Toby Buckland's Garden Festival haven't been sidelined in favour of being unpaid skivvy to the Engineer...perhaps I'll leave him to it and take the children by myself!

***STOP PRESS***

Crucial update for anyone who was concerned about the safety of my ladies whilst their first line of defence (the electric netting) was not working. It is now working!  Hurray hurray.  What a nice man - he was really quite perturbed that it could be the energiser not working properly, as they are normally the most reliable bit. Though he agreed with me as we troubleshooted together and I explained what we had done to try and identify where the problem was, that it did sound as if it was the energiser.  He organised to get a replacement sent out to me, and I was to return the faulty one, and I put the phone down.

And then I had a few thoughts...and then a few more... stimulated by something that he had said during our conversation.  And I switched it all back on and went out to have another look at the fence....Tested it with the fence tester - absolutely nothing still.  Tested the lead out cable with the fence tester - still no reading.

Then I took a deep breath, took off my wellies and stood in my socks on the grass, and put my hand on the fence...and Yes! Ouchy, it works!

So, a combination of a dud fence tester (now being replaced instead of the energiser!) and a schoolgirl error - with rubber boots on I was insulated from the earth so I wasn't getting the shock anyway!  I think that is what can be legitimately called a 'DIME BAR' moment!!! Well, my excuse is I barely scraped a C in GCSE Physics... the Engineer did Physics A Level!

So now the ladies are as protected as we can make them, short of bringing them into the house in the evening, so hopefully I might allow myself to sleep a bit more peacefully tonight, though still with all my fingers and toes crossed anyway x

They're here!

As you can see, I am one happy (and admittedly, also slightly over-excited) lady!

Who is inspecting who?

I was fortunately lent this puppy cage by a kind friend, which turned out to be a godsend as all 6 could easily fit in together, and they were probably happier this way (as they were used to being in the same flock already) than being squashed up 3 to a cat carrier.

So, some introductions are in order...

Butterscotch, she's a hybrid Rhode Island Red, chosen and named by E as her 'own chicken'

This is Bluey, so named as she's a Fenton Blue (a Cream Legbar cross who will hopefully lay blue/green eggs) but we all agreed the play on words in her name also fitted with the classic Aussie nickname used for a redhead! (Although she is more 'Strawberry Blonde' I think.)  She is also L's choice for his own special hen.

This one is a Rhode Rock, which apparently lay large brown eggs which are often double yolkers.  Interestingly, although she is the second smallest of our 6, she has already shown herself a contender with Butterscotch the RIR for the dominant hen crown.  We have named her Queenie as she has a suitably imperious look in her eye and wears all black like Queen Victoria.

This is Margot, a suitably French inspired name for a Speckedly (based on the traditional French Maran hen) and she should lay dark brown speckled eggs.

This was the best shot I could get of Bunty the Blue Belle (a Maran/Rhode Island Red cross) - she is quite an effective wriggler!  Margot obviously couldn't resist offering her best side to the camera again, muscling in on Bunty's big moment.... 

And last, but not least:

Meet Delia, our White Leghorn.  She is the weeniest, lightest and skinniest of all 6, and definitely the shyest - she ran me a right old dance at putting to bed time!  As she lays pure white eggs we have called her Delia, in honour of that national treasure, who caused the white egg craze when she launched her book How to Cook...

Much to the children's disgust, we popped them all into the coop's attached wee run for the rest of the day today, and did not let them out into the garden as everything I've read tells me that they need to sleep in the coop for one night to realise it's their home, and as it turned out I had enough trouble getting the more timid 3 into the house at bedtime as they wouldn't come out from the under-house bit of the run in order for me to grab them! I dread to think what would have happened if I had to chase them round the orchard...

I can't imagine that we will use the little run much - it is way too small, barely enough run space for 1 chicken never mind the 12 that the manufacturer's claim this coop will house!  I have measured the interior square footage and perch space and I don't think it would be comfortable for more than 6, but that is just the house itself, of course we intend to run the chickens in the orchard on a paddock system, divided within the electric fenced area.

Which is our next problem....

It's not working.  We have struggled for two days to get it to work.  Yesterday evening we gave up assuming it was the long grass draining the charge too much.  But today we strimmed a foot either side of the net, and still no charge from the net.  You can touch it with your hands no problem.  We've moved the earth spike.  It seems fine.  We wondered if it was a problem with the lead out cable, so tested the energiser with just a short section of cable, and it only reads 1 on the fence tester included in the kit, which should apparently read 5-8... Could it be a faulty energiser?  It's so frustrating, that with all my careful planning and organisation, we are here, our first night of chicken keeping and all that stands between my ladies and Mr Fox is the (scarily feeble looking) wooden walls of the chicken house.

I will phone the company who supplied it, on Monday morning.  But I just keep worrying - have we missed something obvious?  Is this down to our own stupidity?

Please don't let Mr Fox visit tonight and find the fence not working!

I just feel I have failed, and yet I'm so happy that I'm finally here - a chicken keeper at last, I've waited so many years for this.  I wouldn't consider hens in the old garden as the lawn just wasn't big enough to share with the children and rotate to recover.  I've waited and waited and planned and pondered, now here I am and I don't want anything to spoil it x

Feeding them some treat corn to try to bribe them into bed

No gardening in the dark today...

...because today was for erecting electric poultry netting in the dark!

Not surprisingly, there is no photo of this.  Shame, though, that I'm not able to include a wee sound track recording to this entertaining exercise - as it could be useful to students of unusual colourful language.

It probably didn't help, me trying not to laugh uncontrollably while A clambered along the gap between the hedge and the boundary fence, torch in teeth, hammering in wire clips to the fence posts to hold the lead out cable...

I had originally assumed that siting the lead out cable (temporarily running along the back of the hedge from the new outside electric socket, and then across the lawn a bit towards the netting - to be permanently located underground once the new potting shed is built and has it's own electric supply connected) would be the difficult part.  And it was fairly complicated...but the actual erecting of the poultry netting was just too much fun! (Not!!!)

I am quite glad now that I listened to my former neighbour when she advised against my original plan to have a smaller electrified enclosure and move the whole shebang around every 2 weeks to stop the grass being killed.  Instead, on her advice, we went for a 50 metre net to be more or less permanently sited in the orchard, with the intention of operating a 'paddock' system dividing the area up internally into 3 sections, each one used for a few weeks before being rested.

We didn't quite manage to finish and get it all up and running and tested - that will have to wait until tomorrow.

Fortunately while it was still reasonably light I did manage to sneak off cable reeling duty momentarily to capture a few of the highlights of the garden at the moment...

Tree peony just opened

The tree peony behind the hammock is just starting to open those hugely fat promising buds.  I have no idea what to expect from this plant as I have never encountered one before.  But I do love those enormous yellow flowers - somehow they are very 1950s - maybe its the primrose yellow colour, maybe its the way the petals are sumptuous and huge like 50s evening dresses.  It feels a shame that it is practically hidden away at the back, but I suppose originally the trees in front were mere babes and then it was the star of the show.

The luscious lipstick pink camellia discovered whilst playing tennis last weekend is in complete full flower now, and looking dazzling.  What with the yellow tree peony, it seems as if the garden is sprinkled with 1950s belles of the ball tripping daintily around looking immaculate and intimidating.

Walnut tree (nearest camera) and Horse Chestnut tree with swathes of bluebells beneath

Carpet of blubells under the rowan tree

Bit blurry these ones - sadly the light was going by this time.  But I had to capture a positive image of the bluebells, to help me when I spend the next few weeks doggedly digging the self-sown interlopers out of the circle bed, where they definitely should not be!  Any that can be salvaged I will add to the woodland border here, at the back probably to try and help me smother the weeds.  Here is their rightful domain, and they are truly lovely.  Elsewhere I intend to be ruthless!

Hopefully I may soon have chicken photos to share... x

Gardening in the dark

...well, almost!

Stuck indoors today doing paperwork - boo boo boo hiss.

Only got outside after small people's bedtime, so we were on fast forward mode to try and get a few urgent bits and bobs done before it got too dark - we did manage to erect the 3 bean pole wigwams to support the 3 clematis which have been languishing on temporary supports since they were unceremoniously severed from their previous holds on the old panel fence around the vegetable patch.

Fortunately 2 are very small - worrying small in fact - I suspect they have been knobbled by the weather during the winter and then by the snails whilst they were vulnerable.  The saddest looking one only has one stem left, which I have lovingly tied to its new support with a wing and a whispered prayer.  This one has - wonder of wonder - a label!  She exults in the name of Clematis 'Vyvyan Pennell', having looked her up in my book she is a pom pom type double purple jobby.  Not usually my type of thing, but we'll give her a fighting chance and see what she's got...

The third clematis looks like it's barely blinked despite having been strung up to a bit of plastic netting and a cane for two weeks.  It is romping away unpeturbed and covered with fat buds.  I have no idea what variety this one is, but I expect I won't have long to wait to find out!

News on the pretty white rose front:

Identified by grandma as Rosa 'Iceberg'...well, welcome beautiful one, and here's hoping you continue to look so good!

Fingers crossed for the weather forecast being correct for tomorrrow, as I now have a list of things to do out there as long as my arm.

Concerns are currently mounting regarding the much awaited arrival of the ladies of the feathered clucking variety.  All along the date has been Sunday 27th April, and we've been working towards everything being ready for that date.  It seems ages that we've been building up to this - 6 weeks now in fact, but as yet still no confirmation from the BHWT that anything is concrete.  I am concerned that they are perhaps having difficulties with the farmer.... But the problem is, I don't think I could hold out any longer.  If I don't get a confirmed solid date when I phone them tomorrow, I'm seriously considering chasing up my alternative avenues to source our ladies.  It feels a shame, but we are ready and have been ready for quite a while now... and I need that manure in the compost heap!!!

Sewing, planting, burning

Life seems so much easier when the sun shines, doesn't it?

Things happen as they should.

Children play happily together (mostly) while parents happily pootle about in the garden, enabling salads to be planted out and sugarsnap peas to be sown:

Now I have a promising few rows of salads tucked into the lovely damp soil (after yesterday's mad downpours), awaiting further waterings in by the more unsettled weather forecast for the coming days...

• 1 row of lettuce 'Tom Thumb'
• 1 row of Ms Raven's 'Asolo salad mix' (a new trial for us this year)
• 1 row of 'Lollo Rosso' (not my personal favourite, but grandma had left an old opened packet of seed so I thought it might make an acceptable addition to the mixture)
• 1 row of 'Merveille de 4 saisons' (which has always done excellently for me, tending to cope even in the driest of periods. However, this batch of seedlings does look a little weedy and feeble for some reason so I have potted on the extras leftover and will keep them in the greenhouse just in case these fail to thrive)
• also 1 wide row of Sugarsnap pea 'Sugar Ann', sowed as peas always are by me, with a little prayer for leniency to the gods who supervise these things...I generally very rarely have anything to speak of to harvest from peas.  They don't seem to like me.

There was also intended to be sown, far left of the photo, a wide row of maincrop pea 'Rondo', again more in optimism than expectation.  Unfortunately this did not occur, as this happened instead:

Ouchy ouchy ouch.  And a choice selection of other words too.  And tears also.  For my own stupidity and bruised pride.  I did a thing I swore never to do again.  I was too lazy to walk to the garage to get the rubber mallet to wallop in the sturdy posts either side of the pea netting.  Instead I chose to pick up a conveniently close large rock (amongst many recently excavated during anti-bunny fencing works), and bang the post in with that instead.  A mistake.  As we can see.  Walloping merrily away with the rock in my right hand, making very sure that I kept my left hand well down the post out of the way (thought I was clever, you see)....only somehow I seem to have bent my fingers round the rock a little too much in my grip, one slightly misaligned wallop and oops! (Insert similar but more colourful alternative of your choice).

To be honest, it hurt (and still hurts) so badly I was convinced I had broken it.  The harsh reality of going to the minor injuries unit on a Bank Holiday Monday, to be basically laughed at and then sat in a corner waiting for 8 hours, coupled with the complete absence of any trace of sympathy from A (who admittedly was expecting me to be halfway through cooking lunch at this point so that we could whizz off to the tip and garden centre straight after), led me to assess the damage properly...at which point I discovered I still had full movement, though ridiculously painful, in the joints, so concluded that I had just managed to crush the top part of the finger including the nail - which I fully expect to turn black now and drop off.

So in true 'mother' fashion I popped a few arnica and paracetamol, doused it liberally with arnica ointment, and soldiered on, whilst whimpering and moaning gratuitously whenever the poor damaged appendage came into direct contact with anything.  That's the trouble with finger tips - too many nerve endings!

So off we went to the tip, followed by a quick dash round Monkton Elm and home with my haul of baby tomato plants:

2 Gardener's Delight, 2 Shirley, and 1 each of Sungold, Supersweet 100, Brandywine and Beefsteak, along with a cucumber 'Mini' that I sneaked in - I must remember to cut these every day once it gets going, last time once in full swing I ended up foisting ridiculously long cucumbers upon everyone who came to the house, just to get rid of them.

Now potted up and into the greenhouse in the newly vacated space left by the salad seedlings.

I also managed to squeeze in an extremely swift recce with E (ever my partner in crime) of the current wool offerings of the Monkton Elm craft shop, in readiness for beginning my 'beach knitting' project.  I have found it indispensable to have a good sized cardigan on the go to help while away the hours spent sitting on a rug on various beaches in the spring, summer and autumn, watching small people (and A) happily dig endlessly in the sand around me.  I find it easier to pick up and put down than a paperback...

Current colour options appear to be:

Nice deep indigo blue

My ever faithful favourite tealy blue

Nice mossy, mid olive green - looks much nicer in reality!

Sort of soft damsony purple

Deep burgundy - though this is my least favourite option

I must dig out my hoarded patterns and make a few decisions.  Though that will probably require a whole post of it's own.  Not my strong point, after all.

Back home and I was blown away by E revealing the creative outpourings she had been quietly getting on with in the sewing room/office whilst we had been playing in the garden:

...practically a whole new suit of clothes for her bear Bon Bon!  Tasteful beige corduroy tailcoat, and underneath a flashy cerise linen waistcoat.  Apparently she had overcome her buttonhole faux-pas of yesterday, when she cut out a round hole instead of a slit and found the buttons wouldn't stay fastened...only to find that Bon Bon was slightly more, shall we say, 'rotund' than she had originally thought so her first attempts were a bit tight.  Undeterred, she simply decided to sew on an extra large front and set the buttons to one side (resulting I think in a slightly oriental look to the finished items, don't you agree?) She is very pleased with what she had managed to do, all by herself without running to me constantly for reassurance.  I am so proud.  It almost makes the squashed finger pale into insignificance.

Next challenge is to be trousers, which she is a bit more concerned about.  So am I.  I'm thinking elasticated waist is the way to go.  It was always easier that way when I made toddler trousers for L.

What better way to round off a good Easter break, than with a nice smoky evening bonfire?

I have only just come in, it was very peaceful sitting out there in the dark staring into the embers glowing rhythmically like lava, cup of tea in hand.   I do like a bonfire.  It got us thinking about the possibility of this south west corner of the garden becoming a sort of 'fire-pit/bonfire/real BBQ corner, once the pile of horse chestnut logs has been re-homed in the new wood shelter (still to be constructed, though design process well under way!).  Its a sunny spot in the afternoons and evenings, I could plant it around with aromatics like rosemary and lavender and....

How come one project serves to create a list of 10 others?

Oh well, keeps him busy and out of the pub, I suppose!!!

xxx

All change!

Yes! At last the great tester pot merry-go-round is out of first gear and picking up speed...

E's room now pretty empty and ready to be transformed

With extremely heavy rain falling all around outside, what does any sane person do on Easter Sunday? Why, move furniture around, of course!

It's my own fault.  I did promise E several weeks ago that once school was back, whenever it wasn't 'garden weather' I would be turning my attention to decorating her room.  As she reminded me when the rain started today.  Don't you hate it when they do that?

Fast forward 3 hours later, all her furniture bar the bed is now reasonably tidily removed into the end bedroom - which despite being the 2nd biggest, has up until now remained empty of all but a chest of drawers and the spare bed, because it is one of the 2 rooms which will be (at some point) undergoing quite serious repair and renovation once the exterior source of it's 'self-decorating' walls has been remedied by Mr Builder.

Not too bad, I just hope she doesn't get too used to the cavernous floor space in here...

Unfortunately all this left her room looking decidedly institutional:

...so naturally I cracked on in positive mood with the almost religious process of applying the first tester pot squares...I say positive mood as I had been fairly confident that my first option was likely to be THE ONE, given that the colour is already painted downstairs on the kitchen walls and looks there to be just the sort of sunny, warm sandy yellow colour we had in mind - not lemony, not too wishy washy, but also not too 'in your face cover your eyes in the morning' zingy bright yellow.  'Twas not to be.   Why does this always happen to me?  Up here in the south facing bedroom, the yellower tone of the light coming in combined with the nature of the shape of the room (small deep silled window, low down the wall, sloping ceiling, lots of strong shadows) resulted in the expected colour becoming much darker, more mustard like and definitely not the gentle warm sandy yellow of my dreams.  On to the back up plan - tester pot picked up 'just in case' on a whim in B & Q having seen a good sized sample painted above the display, and which looked through the clear plastic of the pot to be just the job.

You've guessed it - this one turned out to be exactly the sort of retina scorching shade of yellow I was desperately trying to avoid!  How is it that tester pots change colour completely when you put them on the wall???  This is the trouble with yellow, I find.  The last time I tried to search for 'the perfect soft yellow' for the lounge walls in the old house, I ended up with so many tester pot squares painted on the wall alongside each other that we were tempted at one point to just carry on like that and call it a patchwork paint effect.  Worryingly, that search ended up with me having the screaming abdabs one day and painting the lot over with ivory cream - which it still remains to this day, unless the new owner has already begun her own tester pot odyssey.

Still, there's plenty to do before the colour needs to be finalised - a dirty great section of lath and plaster wall to cut out and replace, for a start, before it falls off unexpectedly in the night and covers the whole room in centuries old lime and dead insect dust...along with some serious crack fillering, and quite possibly a little light floorboard repairing if I can gird my loins enough to dare lift the carpet...

So, something for us all to look forward to in the coming weeks of undoubtedly more typical West Country 'spring' weather xxx

Weeding, weeding, weeding...

(sung to the tune of Rawhide!)

It is, indeed, a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it - preferably before that worryingly flowery looking bittercress turns to launching it's seeds into my newly clean and compost-topped vegetable beds...

I have a grand plan to cover these two shadier old veg beds with cardboard (of which we have a more than adequate supply still cluttering up the house after the move), dampen it and then top with a good few inches of compost from the old raised bed that I need to dismantle in order to create coldframes on that spot. Typically the soil seems too dry to allow myself to do this just yet but rain is forecast tomorrow and A is twitching for something to 'get on with' tomorrow morning, so if only I could get these weeds out I could set him on to the shovelling of compost about and save my own back!

So I've been wearily nibbling away at it today, in between leaping up and down to:

• secure tracing paper over masterpiece for E as the art urge strikes her;
• discuss, hold, help measure, quality control (!) etc for A as he battled on with the main vegetable garden gate saga;
• answer telephones, make cups of coffee and juice - you know, the usual

Generally I feel at the moment like the supervisor/assistant of many projects but master and achiever of none. This truly is ridiculous as all the projects are ones I want doing - the gates, the posts for the raspberry support wires, the seed sowing (oh yes, lots of seed sowing achieved today, just not by me.  I had an enthusiastic helper keen to do it for me...so I had the less fun part of sorting out which plant pots and trays to use, writing the labels, tidying up afterwards, but none of the actual exciting part of the sowing.  And I tried really hard not to hover in a perfectionist fashion to make sure they were sown evenly and covered carefully - honest!).  This is how I know I could never have been or ever will be in the future a manager of others in any occupation.  I just find it too painful and yes, stressful.  I just want to get on and enjoy doing it. Myself. Alone. Hmmm...when do they go back to school/work...?  I'm so ungrateful...

So, evidence that much belated seed sowing was indeed achieved:

Apologies for the poorly lit shot but it was so bright outside that my wee iphone could not cope, though it normally does more than well enough under most lighting circumstances for my requirements.  I was honoured to be allowed to 'borrow' L's bedroom windowsill for the birthing of the pumpkin, squash, courgette and cosmos seeds - he is now under strict instruction to be careful not to knock them over and be sure to talk encouragingly to them at least twice a day.  I have chanced to leave the sunflower seeds in pots in the greenhouse - I'm hoping I've done right here, as it's quite cold out there tonight.  If more cold nights are forecast I may just cave in and bring them into the house too.

The under under under gardener-in-training

I couldn't resist taking this picture of L let loose by himself with the petrol mower for the first time.  He concentrated so hard, and did a cracking job - I don't even think he mowed over anything he shouldn't (unlike his sister).

Thoughts this evening have turned towards serious design considerations for the 'new potting shed'.  This is due to increasingly being forced to struggle to find things/try not to get impaled by falling tools/break my neck whilst extracting myself from the hellhole which is currently the garden shed - all 4 ft x 6 ft of it - where all my worldly gardening goods are currently crammed.  If I had a pound for every time I've sworn under my breath in that shed today...

So, preliminary sketches have been made, pinterest has been scoured, attempts to convey style, purpose, importance and definite no-no's have been communicated to the Engineer who has turned quite pale and now gone to sleep probably due to exhaustion caused by the mere prospect of it all.  Isn't it amazing how they can be enthused and energised by the prospect of creating a treehouse or wood shed, but the idea of my place in the garden, my beating heart's desire, is too much if it can't just be an off the peg workshop/soulless garden shed?

I see the thumbscrews will have to be tightened further...

Our first Easter weekend at Windy Acre begins

Another glorious weather day - tennis in the garden...picnic lunch at Ramscombe...evening bouncing (for some, anyway)...and our first proper rose!

First full bloom of the season - Rose (unknown variety) in the 'rose divider bed'

A shot of the full bush hopefully to help my later identification attempts...

Of the many roses in the garden, this small bush looks at the moment among the healthiest, no signs so far of any pest or disease, and quite a nice balanced shape.  Tomorrow I will dig out the pile of old nursery labels that I found in a box and see if there is anything to give me a hint of the variety - unless any of you lovely readers have any suggestions for me?  I am a bit of a rose novice really, as the only rose that would grow beyond a month or so in the old garden was the dedicated old 'Zephirine Drouhin' around the north facing front porch.  She was a stalwart, the most intense fragrance and about the strongest pink that I can physically tolerate, although she did always succomb to major leaf spot quite early on in the season it never seemed to affect the blossoming.  I practically hacked her to the ground two years running while we were in the process of repairing and repainting the porch wood and glazing, and she was back each summer launching 8 foot stems towards the poor postman!  Lucky really it was thornless or I might have had problems... I took loads of hardwood cuttings the autumn before last and two have survived to come with us with what might be plant-out-able size now.

This little chick has carried a smattering of small blooms for a few months now, although I am assuming it is because of the mild (though wet) winter I don't really think she ever stopped flowering properly at the end of the autumn.  Its not that I don't like her, I just don't feel as if it's the first real rose somehow, not like the fab feeling of discovering the one above.

Small bloom rose to the left of the wood shelter

Work needed here I think, to strengthen the support (decidedly wibbly wobbly) and add some cross wires so that I can tie it back more regularly and securely.

Out of interest, here's the rose on the other side of the wood shelter, equally wobbly support frame in desperate need of redesign in preparation for what I remember last year as a breathtaking display of small blooms... no sign of these yet though.

Small bloom rose on right side of wood shelter

I make no apologies for the gratuitous tulip fest that follows:

'Queen of the Night' ? in the circle bed

Unusual (if a bit wishy washy for me) mauve veined/washed variety in the rose divider bed

Mad random colour mixture in the eastern end of the rose divider bed!

'Ballerina'? and lipstick pink alongside new peony shoots in the circle bed

I can only imagine that these crazy colour arrangements are the results of grandma randomly replanting bulbs into the garden beds which have done one year in the patio pots...

A good spot for a warm shady snooze

Evidently overwhelmed by the clashing of tulip colours all around him, Cobweb took the only appropriate action - have a snooze on the baking flagstones while keeping one eye open for small boys trying to muscle in on such a comfy spot.

In Camellia news:

Camellia hiding underneath the magnolia tree

...I was startled to discover this in full bud and early blooms, whilst I was rootling about under the magnolia tree to retrieve a tennis ball.  Camellia admittedly are not my fave plants - I love them in Cornish valley gardens, where they capture that sense of sub-tropical spring that Cornwall always tantalises us with, and where the flowers tend to be protected from being spoiled by the wind and rain by the generally enveloping overhead bushes and trees - but I don't find them an easy plant to find good neighbours for in my own planting style.  A lot of the camellias in this garden are likely to be for the chop as they are frankly struggling unattractively in the limestoney clay soil.  Grandma was always planting them as Uncle Harold was always digging up his marvellous specimens in the Forest of Dean and sending her home with one each time she visited...But for some reason this one seems to be quite contented.  As always the older flowers are browned round the edges, and of course - it had to be lipstick pink!!! - but I suppose at this time of year we can be more flexible about colour schemes (can't we?), when we are just so pleased to welcome any flowers at all.  And later on, if it retains it's lovely glossy healthy appearance I can value it as a good evergreen framework plant.

Furthermore, I have gates!

New gate leading to the soon to be created 'secret path'

New gate which will eventually (!) lead to the new potting shed in the orchard

Ok, so far there are only two but this is still progress.  The more complicated, twin gate for the main entrance to the vegetable patch is to be tackled manfully tomorrow.  I can't wait.  As long as we can distract the small boy from the workbench, or at least find him useful ways of 'helping'...

Vegetable patch sunset - 18th April 

All in all, a satisfying start to our first real Easter weekend at Windy Acre. x