Thursday, 13 June 2013

Oh . . . hello, summer

It arrived as usual here: wham. About a month behind schedule, and all the more welcome for that.
Suddenly, the town is full of people clutching maps and estate agent's brochures; hanging baskets have been hung, and it's just fine to be sitting indoors with a thin t.shirt on, rather than some vile matted old jumper.
In the autumn, I will have a cull of all fetid winter wear - really, this year they will go . . . maybe. It has to be done while the weather is still warm otherwise at the first hint of cold, I'll be seeking shelter in something indescribably awful, but, oh so comforting. This winter my 'second skin' was a purple jumper from 'EmmaĆ¼s'; actually, I think it was last year's too. I don't even like purple, not on me anyway; some people look great in it - hi Pen. There's just something about the wool mixture, the length of the sleeves, the perfect draught prevention shape. I've put it in the gardening cupboard and only time and weather will tell if it re-emerges or not.
Anyway . . . I'm sitting here in a vest top before tackling various gardening jobs, including dead-heading the roses. It's been a good year for them (an Elvis Costello song?) huge, bursting with colour and fragrance.
Here's a couple of photos, but it's difficult to capture the pure sumptuance of them. I know that's not a word, but I rather like it.



The cat has turned into a mighty hunter and is polishing off the rabbit population. I did resist the temptation of running over and trying to rescue the poor dangling baby one, here shown, then reality kicked in: feeble, half dead thing, possible trip to the vet . . .



The cherry stoner is out of the cupboard for its once-a-year appearance and Mark has made much jam. The most exciting batch is from the 'bird cherries', small, perfectly round, British post box-red specimens. I think they may be the Acerola variety, in which case I have stocked myself up with about a years worth of Vitamin C when picking them yesterday. These are the cherries from our young tree, I think the 'breast of pigeon' variety. Next jam: apricot.

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