"Who is in Charge."

    Now come on,  I am a wee bit over this. Mr.or Ms. Weather person or whoever is calling the shots.
   
  It really is just past a joke and far to jolly hot. My poor garden is fairing better than me, but that is not that hard to do, when it is so jolly hot.
  
 The earth is so cracked and parched, I'm starting to worry that I may fall through one of those cavenous cracks.

 Will I be like Alice,when she went down that deep hole, I don't really wish to meet up with Cranky Queens, who yell, "Off with their heads", white rabbits, no enough rabbits here already.

  Tweedle Dee and his other half, Dum, Mad hatters and all that lot.

Look in the Looking Glass and all I see, is a cranky, over heated Gardener, please whoever is in charge of the weather.

  Tea Party anyone,

  Some cool stuff please, with a dash of rain on the side.
 

"The Naming Game."

     Have you ever wondered, where all these rose names come from, what or who inspired all those names.

   What were all these women like,that Alistair Clarkson  named  roses  after. They must have been a wee bit special.

    Then there are those ones, you know "Rembember Me", the one you plant for that someone who is or was a bit Special.

   Or do you plant, "First Love", well because you just do and when it blooms all blushing pink, do you go all gooey and dewy eyed. Thinking, How Special.

 Do you plant ones with French names or you are right into Shakespeare, so you buy all David Austins stuff.

 Or do you just plant because, you can and have no control, when that catalogue arrives in the mail.

"New Garden Ornaments."

   I can hear you saying, "What now, has she got herself a new buddha or a gnome with his rear  exposed for all the world to see."

   No, I can assure you, this garden will never have a place for a gnome with his rear exposed, even discreetely positioned amongst the shrubbery, not my thing.

Welcome.....

   Two young pekin batams, they are so pretty and cute and innocent looking. Of course they would be innocent looking, no floosy chooks hang out here.

  Now the " Up and Coming Young Stud Rooster", no perhaps I had better change that to "Has Come of Age Rooster", is looking all delighted, has an extra crow,  in his voice, extra spring in his step. Well, you know how it is with young Males .

   The new young girls are looking all demure and coy as they scratch and peck, while showing their plummage off.

  I've decided they don't need to meet, "Has Come of Age Rooster"  yet, he can just yearn and wonder and wait. 

 It is called playing, Hard to Get.

" Time to Hum."

       What a difference a day or two makes, you know I feel like I'm alive again. The weather has got cooler, Oh! happy me.

      Wander in the garden, break into a hum, little bit of Lennon.

    "Imagine,  a weed free garden. it is easy if you try.
      Imagine all those people,  weeding."

   Yes, you  know the tune, all join in, plants grow better with music.

  Memories, yes, I  go way back to Beatles time, yes way back, when my hem lines, were closer to my navel ,than my knees.

  When the summer arrives again, maybe I will be able to hum a little bit of the gorgeous George, after he went all mahatma.

    " My sweet corn, Krishna,Krishna, My sweet corn.

"Pixel Problems."

       I like taking snaps of my blooming buds and lots of things I plant. Well you know, somethings choose to go to plant heaven, and at least you have the memory,  of how it could have been.

  I'm just not so clever with the new fandangled camera stuff, you know the ones. The ones you stick on your laptop, the ones you put away, in handy little files. All with dates and name tags, all at your fingertip at the click of a mouse.

   Oh! silly me, where have they gone, they were there the other day.

   I didn't grow up with things like, click  "defragment now " or "Sidebar", I just thought that was a place where I used to hangout and drink, when I was young and silly.

    So much to learn and try and retain.

   Where is my old Box Brownie, maybe it is with the shoe-box full of prints , with the curly edges and the missing negatives.

  But at least they haven't vanished into that place they call, Cyber Space.

A Little bit of Leaf Listening."

  I really wish that trees could talk, I would love to hear their stories.
   But then again they probably can, when you really think about it.
I wonder what the She-Oaks are all whispering about, when the wind blows through their branches.
   The Poplar trees, when the breeze ruffles their leaves are all a lot of chatter.
  . The boughs creak and groan, when the wind blows hard and strong, or is it just that they are getting old and arthritis has set in.
   Do they  reproach a Wood-Pecker when he pecks to hard, or tell a Tree-Creeper to creep a little slower. Do they worry when it is lopping time, or say this will make us flourish.

   Even if I can't join in, I'd be happy to just sit back and listen to their natter.

"Visitors,"

    Visitors,  "How nice you say", well, Yes and then, Maybe,No. 

    Nice people, visiting from afar, one of those far away places, where unusual stuff happens. Things like regular rainfall, nice summers, with nicer  temperatures than we endure here.

   Yes,they  wandered around the plot, looking here, and looking there. One said, the garden is very big,  I think I probably  was  aware that it is a little bit bigger than your normal size.
 I could handle that.
 
   Then No. 2 visitor said, "It is so very dry, did you know that?"
 Oh! silly me how could I have not known that.
 Hasn't rained in months, but I do know now. That it is "Dry."

    I placed my Buddha face on, all serene and calm and nice.

 Wandered with the visitors, until they came upon the gate and wandered out of sight.