Yes, big call out to all you would-be, wanna-be Princesses.
I have a Prince in my garden, Yep a real dinky-di Prince.
He is just the cutest, a real handsome dude.
Definitely, a swoon for Prince, well what other sort are there.
Did I give him a pash, well, no, not even a small peck.
No, not even that. Did he have a glass slipper, no not even that.
I don't think he needs transforming, he is just so cute like he is.
I was, Oh so, really ready, all set for Christmas Day.
Then I felt something was not quite right .
The presents were all wrapped in all their Christmas bling.
But when I looked, there was something just not right.
There was a parcel missing, nowhere to be seen.
Inside that pretty paper, all wrapped up for the day.
Was a stick of hot Salami, one brothers favourite fare.
Nowhere to be found.Then I spied a guilty face,
Someone had left the door ajar, in walked one big black dog.
He has munched his way through the whole darn lot.
Leaving no clues to where he had been.
Yes that time of year again, that time to be "Jolly".
Well, Yes I am jolly sick of the rabbits.
Plus, I am jolly well over the no rain for the garden.
Yes, tis the the time to be "Jolly".
And Yes, I am that.
So jolly well pleased, I live where I do.
Even more jolly about the life I have.
The scales will tell me after christmas,how much I jolly well ate.
But I am so jolly well pleased with my lot.
I wish everyone a jolly Merry Christmas and a jolly New Year.
Could I be so bold, to type a heading Hare Happenings.
Yes we have Hares, all long legged, buck teethed hares.
Agapanthus picking Hares.
I perhaps wouldn't mind, if they filled vases at Hare House with
them. Or decked the Halls at Hare Manor, But no, just pick and
plonk them where they wish, Hares we have here.
I am now searching for a "Jugged Hare" recipe, not sure if I will
indulge in it, any threat is worth a try.
Tonights Menu may read, " What do you want for tea."
What has happened to all the rabbits in the world.
Why have they all decided to become Urban, all want to become
Townies. They all want to live in our Street.
They seem to think they have the right to dine on my daylilies,
gorge on my grevillias, just gormandise and munch on the lot.
Just get it right Rabbits, town rabbits, live in hutches, that's what
they are for. You are only allowed in town, to be squeezed and
mauled by cute kids.
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Back to the bush, get to your burrows and get out of my sight.
I an practising being an Old-er Person today, you know how they
are really good at looking back. .Thought I would try it out.
Remembering the vegie patches, the fruit trees, all those figs, that
became yummy jam. Roses, camelias, the walnut tree with the
swing. Many memories, of idling days away in the grandparents
gardens.
Will my Special kids, do the same one day. Will they recall the
crocodile, who dwells in the dam.
Will the young fellow, who told me to keep up, "it's a maze here, Nanna". Will he remember that.
Will they remember picking peas, eating carrots they have dug.
I so hope they remember, lots of things of the garden here.
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That will make the place, a really Special Place.
Just so smart, you would not have thought me so bright.
What now, you may think. Well, I know it is summer.
Brownie points to me, clever, extra smart, you may say.
Or maybe, you just may not.
It is Summer, how bright is that. No I worked it out all by myself.
Didn't cheat, nobody told me, didn't check the calendar.
Top of the class today. Get on with I hear you sigh.
Just how did you become so smart.
The Agapanthas, are just starting to show their mauve magic.
All will pop out soon, that's how I know it is summer.
Must be nearly christmas, how does she know that you ask.
My wallet, is a whole lot lighter, that is how I know that.
Worked it out today, perhaps I should have been a tree.
Yes they are usually tall, no can't say I am that.
Sometimes they are thin, can't say I am that.
Yes, and sometimes they are fat, I am not going to answer that.
They shed their bark, and underneath it is all smooth and flat.
Hummm, they say we shed our skin cells. So what is wrong here.
I can definetly say, no smooth and flat, happens here.
The tree has got the life, I can see.
But then I see leg cocking Spoilt Black Dog.
No, I am happy I think, just being me.
Well, I know we all maybe come to that stage in our life.
But how cruel when you are feeling poorly.
You are reminded of your age.
When some small wee thing, asks in all innocence.
"Could you move Old Lady."
She is still on the Christmas list, only by the skin of her her little
white molars.
Then on the same day someone asks if I require a pensioner
discount. Well, that person is off the christmas list. Even when
they when they weren't even on it, in the first place.
I can still swing a shovel, push a barrow, dig a garden bed with the
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best of them.
So I am not Old, gardeners don't get old, maybe a little wilted, but
definetly not old.
Now, myself being a somewhat docile, fairly casual sort of
creature. Well that is my story.
I am cross, as a peaceable, caring sort of person. Yes, still my story.
Why am I cross, you may ask.
Well of course, being the sharing, caring person. I will tell why.
Yep, still my story, we are over run with rodents.
Yes, you may say, some people keep them as pets.
But not this caring, kind person.
Yes there are famous ones, ie.Rizzo of Muppet fame,
Rattus P.Rattus, Splinter and probably many more.
A word to all rodents out there, please find somewhere else to
hang out. I know it is all lovely and nice here.
But please pick up your swags, pack your bags and head for the
gate.
I thought I heard Mick Jagger, singing "Gimme Shelter", I
thought he must be out there, somewhere strutting and rocking with
the boys.
But no it is the garden, calling out to me, "Gimme Shelter, from
this heat, we are all parched and need a drink.
We are not used to all this hot stuff, all that mopping of ones
brow, all that sweating and all that swearing.
Can you tell I am not a hot weather girl, she belongs in cooler
climates. But alas I live in this hot spot, so will continue mopping
ones really sweaty brow.
Why do we buy certain plants. Is it because of their names, do
they remind us of places and people and good times had.
Do people buy the rose "First Love", do they watch it bloom and
go all goo-gah and mushie with old memories.
Do you buy a lilac, cos your Nanna had one in her garden.
Do you buy an apricot tree, cos you remember the taste of the
seasons first apricot and you have to have that every year.
I have a rose called "Chloris", she is a dainty little thing.
When I was a wee small girl, I remember a lady named "Chloris"
she was a tiny little lady, who wore tiny black shoes, with tiny
black buttons, and tiny squat heels.
Mrs. Chloris H., is long gone, but when that bush
flowers, I remember, those little black shoes, with the little black
buttons and the little squat heels.
I have just seen on the telly, where you can find all
your lost "Wonderful."
That is if you have had the misfortune of losing all your
"wonderful".
I don't think I have ever lost my "wonderful."
They said you can find it, at all "Myers Stores."
You know, with buying stuff.
Stuff like perfume, stilletto heels, all that sort of stuff.
I am lucky, I just go out and wander in my garden.
That is when I find all my "wonderful".
Wonderful day, wonderful bird song, wonderful sky, lots of
wonderfuls here.
"Wonderful", just being alive.
"Wonderful all intact here, just doing fine today.
Well I have set myself a "Challenge", I seriously, really, truly do need to, challenge.
No, not one of those, Drink this brew and you will lose 10 kilos, by tomorrow, if not yesterday, sort of challenge.
No, not a challenge to walk 5,000 steps more than the recommended 10,000. good heavens I'm short enough. I don't want to wittle a few more layers of skins off my feet.
Never off my waistline, another sad, sorry tale, for another time of telling.
No, it is to be, before work, everyday for as long as it takes.
One barrow full of weeds, to be pulled, and two barrow loads of mulch to be spread.
Problem is, "the long as it takes", bit. Because here it seems to be never ending.
One day, maybe in the "Once Upon a Time of Later On", time I maybe will be able to write.
" Nothing to do in this garden today."
Yes I have been at it again, out there garden cruising.
Checking out other peoples stuff.
No not the ones seen on the telly, this time.
Local stuff, all done by local guys and girls.
Don't you just love it, when you can walk into some elses garden .
When it feels all comfortable, like putting on your slippers, that is
my sort of garden
Not to keen on the ones that are all perfect and nice.
Like the garden itself, needs a gin and tonic and a lie down.
Today they were all happy gardens, no gins required.
Top marks, thumbs up, hats off, to all you, who opened up their
gardens.
For all of us to see.
I have to share with you, this little tale, that's true.
While on my garden walking, at that lovely Open Garden.
They were cooking gourmet pizzas, the aroma was just yum.
Well it was a little fundraiser, I'm sure they needed my support.
I purchased my little pizza and sat down to enjoy.
A fellow garden walker, smiled and sat down by my side.
We talked of this and that, and seemed to get on well.
Out of the blue, she turned to me and said "Will you share your
little pizza, they have run out. Out the back."
I thought she liked my company, but I was really, really wrong.
She helped herself to my pizza, then smiled and said, "How lovely
to have met you." and proceeded on her way.
I'm glad I was obliging, well what else was I to do.
I smiled, a smile that hid a frown, and was left there still half
starving.
Is the season to be out there Garden Walking,
Out there when they are all on show, every petal primpted and preened. Every leave there looking lovely.
I love to go out walking, checking out other peoples stuff.
Just last week I went for miles, to check out "Sophies Patch."
I was not disappointed, it really was a treat. I looked with wonder at her herbs and at the vegie patch.
I came home all excited, with thoughts of this and that. New things to start and plants to grow.
But when will I get it started, next week there are more to go and see.
The ideas will still be there, then by next year they may be all in place .
Maybe then again next year, we could open up the gate. For all those garden walkers to come a roam at my place.
It is really, really serious I am in a to-do-to-do.
My secateurs are missing, plus a cup or two. I know they are out there somewhere, because I know they go hand in hand.
The rule here says no more cups of tea, until the pair are found.
But where Oh! where are those secateurs, have they up and done a runner, gone somewhere else to live.
Are they hanging out all together, just hiding out there somewhere, where I haven't had a look.
My distress is really, real. I managed when all the kids left home, cos its what you have to do. I don't miss the extra washing or all that horrid cooking.
But alas, I am not that brave, I have to have my daily brew and my little bit of snipping.
Everyday I wander and do my daily chores. I clean out all the bird baths, they come daily for a splash.
I often hear them singing, and bursting into song.
They sing the words, to a really well known song. If you listen really closely, you will hear the words they sing.
If you look up in the, "Dictionary of, " Once Upon and Way Back When."
You will find it under "D", just before you get to the bit about, little Sandra Dee.
It was sung by Bobby Darren, that's for all you young ones out there. Who can't remember when, there was more to music than hip hop and a little bit of shuffling.
So they all sing "Splish, Splash I am taking a bath.", really loud and really long.
As I I go about my business filling up their baths again, they never leave their towels upon the floor, so it is really not a chore.
Oh! dear and golly gosh. The so called "Up and Coming Stud." Has turned out to be a dud.
Now do I let him down gently and tell a fib or two. To protect that ego, that sticks right out there at you.
Not a chicken to be hatched, not a single one. All that sitting there for nothing.
That young girl, is looking pretty glum.
I think I will let him down gently, that ego thing you see. It is a of bit boy stuff, all of us girls agree.
I will tell him, while he has been out there, crunching earwigs and singing cock-a-doo-dal-doo.
They all packed up their empty shells and headed for the hills.
Out there weeding, weeding, bending Oh! so gracefully . .
Up there right above me , but not so really far. A plane keeps buzzing by. Joy flighters checking out the scenery, that is really, really nice.
But I'm sure if I bend over and point my butt towards the sky.
Will they shake their heads and wonder, has that pilot lost his way. We are quite sure that Mitre Rock, is out the other way.
So now the problem really does begin, do I hang my smalls upon the line, to flap and flutter in the breeze.
Or will they think that the "Endeavour" has just floated in from way out in the sea.
A Special Birthday Boy, has reached double figures today.
Oh! Yay you may say, "Happy Birthday to him."
He really is a buddy, a mate, a special chum. I really, would be lost without this lovely, lovely friend.
He is really, really Special, I can tell him anything, he sometimes doesn't listen. But he is a male you know. Sometimes he goes a wandering, sometimes he comes when called.
But if you add the magic "B" word,he appears within a second.
So perhaps just for his birthday, I will call at the Butcher Shop.
Then I will be able to call the "B" word, and wait for him to come.
Happy Birthday, Spoilt Black Dog, come and get your,
"BONE."
We have a little hen she is as clucky as can be, she wants to be a mother.
But we will have to wait and see. She has her little clutch of eggs, and there she sits and sits.
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Now we have to wait and wonder, if that Up and coming Young Stud, is ready to be a Dad.
Or is he all just strut and crow, we now just have to wait and wait and really really wonder.
Yes, I am over it, cross and cranky.
Why is there no karma for weather forecasters.
Can they tell us what they want. Do they really, really care.
Where is all that "rain" they talked about.
Are they aware their noses might grow to gigantic sizes, if they keep on telling porkies. Or it's whicked, bad and evil to tell so many lies.
Do they really, really care. They are probably having a Weather Pow-wow, now. "Your turn to pick a forecast." Put your hand right in the hat . What can we tell all those suckers out there. They will believe anything, we say.
They haven't got a choice.
My garden is past crying, not a sob to be heard or seen. There is no moisture left, to even shed one solitary little tear.
I have been bad, really slack and lazy, I have let the garden run wild and free. Now the karma is here to get me, with every weed I see.
People have been ringing, "Are you opening up your garden, for everyone to see,"
Oh, golly, golly gosh, I would hang my head in shame. To hear all the tut, tut, tutting and "Did we really come here last year, please check the map again."
I will get my hoe, a hoeing and will be going to and fro. The trouble is I don't really mind it, when it is all overgrown and free.
The birds don't care, nor do the bugs and other creepy crawlies.
So if you do just pop on in, don't expect it to be all bright and shiney.
What a happy little gardener is out there wandering today.
While she mingles with the marigolds, she sings along to "Maggie May."
While she walks on past the dam. she hums, "I'll be Sailing", as she wanders on her way.
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As she wields her little snippers at the weeds who are in the way, She tells them all to brace themselves, cos the "First cut is the Deepest." As she passes on her way.
She can't wait to see that Scots man, that rocker they call Rod. She has tickets to his concert, she hopes he will sing "You're in my Heart".
But she will settle for just anything, just as long as she can see that man called Rod.
I'm happy with my addiction, it's out there for all to see.
Yes, I could garden day and through the night and be as happy as can be.
So sad and really scary to see what else is out there, that can tempt our precious kids.
It surely must be possible to get them all outside, kicking balls and talking. Chuck those new fangled Ipads and all those other things.
Get them them outside conversing and looking at the world.
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Let them know there are other things, that can make you feel darn good. Let them know you don't need those drugs or even all that booze.
Get them right outside, let Mother Nature do her stuff, plant a tree or just feel the earth. You may just start to realise just how good it is out there.
Get your kids together and give them all a hug, we really don't know what is ahead for them.
"Just give them lots of love."
Why does my Whipper Snipper hate me, it never wants to start.
I'm sure it is a bloke, a Warren, Wayne or Lionel.
It just wants to stay within the shed, and prop against the wall.
Doesn't matter what nice words I say, and perhaps a few not so really nice.
If it was a Wanda, Mary-Beth or Peggy-Sue, it would want to be out in the garden, soaking up the sun and working on a tan.
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Alas, no go again today, " he" will be staying in the shed. I don't know what it is, maybe it's all that exercise or maybe just plain shy.
I now will go and find my spade and just have a little dig.
We are not used to all this hot stuff, all that mopping of ones
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