Jaqui's Daily Blog

Tuesday 11th September

It was such a lovely day today that I really couldn't bring myself to spend it in the garage - even though, I am ashamed to say,  the Clearing Out The Garage Project has stalled badly in recent weeks.  Instead, I turned my attention to the back garden.  In fact, you might say, I went quite potty...


I love our back garden. It's not a fancy garden, with dine-outside-on-a-summer-evening decking or willow fencing or, indeed, any of the features beloved of TV make-over shows.  The most accurate description might be that, like Topsy in Uncle Tom's Cabin, it "just growed."  In fact it's grown quite a lot since we moved in more than a quarter of a centruy ago and the shrubs have completely taken it over.  It's as if they have made a silent declaration to remind us that it's their space, not ours. 


This troubles Mr B, who from time to time threatens to start chopping away to restore some order.  Occasionally I allow him to undertake some judicious pruning but most of the time, when he starts gazing round the garden with the zeal of a born-again lumberjack in his eyes, I remind him of the blue bush.  Which he killed.  On a pruning spree many years ago.  Indeed, whenever we see such a bush alive and blooming in someone else's garden, I am wont to murmur, wistfully: "I used to have a blue bush just like that...." 


Two thoughtful former colleagues, who heard this sad story over dinner in our garden earlier this year, bought me a replacement blue bush, one of my absolute favourite retirement gifts.  This is now growing and thriving in the garden along with the rest of the shrubs - and Mr B is not allowed anywhere near it. 


Anyway, I digress.  The job I decided to undertake this afternoon was to clear the area once described by my son-in-law as "the graveyard of pots." Considering English is his third, if not fourth language, that man certainly has a way with words.  He also had a point - it was impossible to see one section of the patio which abounded with overgrown, weed-ridden pots of every shape and size. 


Not any more, I can report, triumphantly.  I have emptied them all out, cleaned them up, and they are lined up against the wall waiting to be planted up with springtime bulbs.  I am turning the graveyard of pots into a nursery.  What's more, it turned out that it wasn't quite such a graveyard after all.  Buried deep in several of the pots was a veritable cornucopia of bulbs.  I have no idea what they all are so I have simply planted them in hope.


Which is what gardening is all about, isn't it?

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Latest comments

28.12 | 07:41

This wonderful blog has summed up the true meaning of A Christmas Day. Once the dread of a restricted day had sunk in, other ways were invented. Thank you

22.12 | 09:20

So sorry to hear that Brian is in hospital. It would be bad at any time but at present....... It must be true agony for you. You'll both be in my thoughts. xx

22.08 | 02:02


I'll be able to help you with information on the usher's as Thomas Henry Usher is my aunt's ancestor as well can you please email me so we can talk

22.08 | 02:00

Hi Karen,

I thought I would try again to see if I can get a response from you again please email me so we can talk further. My email is: lol-emma@live.com.au

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