Bring me sunshine

A sunny and warm day for a change. A bit more gardening, a bit of reading in the sun. We had planned a family barbecue but Husband was unwell in the night so I decided to postpone it, just in case. He didn't even eat his toast for breakfast so I knew it was serious. It has to be really bad before he will stop eating, especially his toast and jam.

He has been okay, even cut the grass, before lying in the sun.

Here he is next to our biggest white foxglove.

On the grounds that it's so bad already moving it couldn't make it worse, I moved the hydrangea to make room for the new rose I have ordered. Not Tottering-by-Gently but Bring Me Sunshine.

Do you think there's any hope for this hydrangea?

And here's the wall at the back of the garden rendered. Vivien's husband, Peter, came and did a wonderful job for us. He's coming back to attach a fence on top and then I can plant my rambling roses.

Here's what the wall was like before. A great improvement now. (And before before it was a row of gigantic conifers, those hedging ones.)

And I was hoping to have a photo of a frog to show you. Husband called me to see the frog sticking his head out of the pond. I looked, then said, "Now stay there, Mr Froggy, while I get my camera."

He didn't. And hasn't appeared again since.

It's taking a bit of getting used to, this idea of me as a gardener. While I've always been happy clearing out weeds and making space the growing bit has held less attraction. My lack of success with indoor plants probably didn't help. It felt mean to kill outdoor plants as well. But as you've seen not all of my plantings have been failures. Or perhaps it's more likely that I've started buying roses from a really good rose place (David Austin) and they just grow without any help from me.

Everything else is still a bit hit and miss, mostly miss. I used to feel like Polly Garter, who said, "Nothing grows in our garden, only washing. And babies." (Under Milk Wood.) Still my babies grew well. Into wonderful human beings. For that I am thankful.

And thinking of quotes a couple of snippets from my childhood came into my head recently. Conversations between my gran and one or other of her sisters. Not meant for small ears.

"She said he kisses her on the bottom every night."

"Oh uck-i-fi."

And another. 

"Poor woman must have been in a bad way to leave her corset in a public lavatory."

P.S. From previous post. Cheesecloth. After some dredging of my brain I found the word I was looking for.