Thursday 19 March 2015

Fleece-ing

BLOOM 2


It's been another beautiful day. Not a pet day like yesterday, but still lovely.
I actually left my desk and went into the garden to pot up a few weeds - as you do.
I shall need them for Bloom.
I don't think the weeds could believe their luck. When I grabbed them by the neck and yanked, they hunkered down as usual, digging their root-nails in for dear life. But today, instead of hurling them into the waste bin, I nestled them instead into trays of compost and soil and watered them in.
I expect they are beaming out there under the stars.

During this operation, the Models lay on the grass, blissfully soaking up the rays. I paused in my potting to admire my hellebores, and to notice the violets tucked in along the cobbled path. My favourite little scillas are poking out on the bank and everywhere the softer blue anemone blandas are suddenly opening. The camellias are even more beautiful than I remember.

Beautiful hellebores


It was good to see them all, but I didn't linger very long.
There were calls to make and work to do on the computer.
Two fliers to put together, and somewhere I have to find an apple tree...
And a beech...

My new friend Lucy took me to a fabulous nursery yesterday. We drove half-way across the country to one of her suppliers and spent hours walking round the horticultural equivalent of a top-notch thoroughbred stud farm - everything immaculate, manicured and beautifully clean. It was wonderful.
I even found the perfect beech tree.
Until we discovered that it was a copper, not a green one, that is.
Back to the drawing board.

This morning, back at my computer, I talked to Jack on the phone about the ban on moving ash, about transport vehicles and how best to protect plants for long journeys. He's done it hundreds of times before, and was generous with advice and offers of help.
As we chatted, I watched the rooks in the drive. They are busy nest-building, and - as always - it's a noisy, lengthy business that involves a lot of argy-bargy, not to mention full-scale attacks on all the shrubs in the vicinity.

After breakfast, I'd given Hobbes and the Models a good brushing, separated the resultant wad of soft fur into little bite-sized puffs of thistledown and left them lying all over the gravel. As Jack and I verbally fleece-wrapped trays of plants, I watched a rook hopping madly hither and thither, trying to gather up as many of the little puff-balls as she could manage in one mouthful. Her mate was busy showing off his latest courtship dance moves, but she only had eyes for the fleecy nest lining she'd just discovered.
I pictured her later on, needle-felting it into position with her great back beak, high above me in the ash tree.
And speaking of trees - I'm still looking for a beech.

Hobbes loooves being brushed

7 comments:

  1. Really loved that post - we may all be poor these days but life is still a rich experience to be savoured...

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  2. Really loved that post - we may all be poor these days but life is still a rich experience to be savoured...

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  3. Hi Andrew - how very true. Similar sentiment expressed on An Irish Rose for Yeats facebook post last night (Sat 21) - which I also like. Hope you're well!

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  4. I love that picture of Hobbs. Freddy loved to be groomed, MasterB not so much.
    I've lit candles tonight as last Friday marked four years since Freddy died, so it's Pet Remebrance Sunday again.
    I always think of your post Four Legs and a Tail Are Forever. Beautiful.

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  5. Thank you for your compliment, Isobel. I had not realised the date - the days seem to be rushing past in a mad helter-skelter at the moment. I'm sorry I missed Pet Remembrance Day, I loved your idea of lighting candles for them all. Next year...

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    Replies
    1. The date can be fairly fluid I feel...

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  6. Yes, Isobel, I suppose the date can be fluid, but there is something nice about the idea of the solidarity too. I have already put it on my calendar for next year, so I won't miss it next time round. Thank you for the reminder, too.

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