It has been a day full of recalcitrances, various: rusted-in bolts; institutional forms that nothing human could complete without error; the Great Document Hunt of 2019; the sheer physical resistance of damp grass.
So yes; the advantage of a familiar film – knowing what the pops, whoops, scratching noises, clicks, and occasional explosions mean without having to actually look. I took to the recliner and duly reclined.
August isn’t necessarily the best month to incinerate the past, and my face is now very pink, but at least there is no heatwave at the moment, and nor did I set the chimney on fire in my enthusiasm.
Difficult to say which bits of paper were most depressing; the invoices for emergency dental treatment were a definite low point, however.
one instalment of an indefinite journey. On this basis it could be a long one.
I looked on Wikipedia, but, although discoursing on their evolution, flight, reproductive habits etc., the article was obstinately silent about flavour.
Which left me with a question about the elderflowers: to wash, or not to wash? The former removes the pale pollen as well as a good many flies; the latter will keep the pollen, but also more animals will be retained, infusing their possibly noxious juice when I pour the hot syrup over. Ummm.
greenhouse audit. Must have been breeding all winter.
An incoherent day.
Small steps; they look alike until they are all over the wall, and then it’s too late. Test pots good (get the dinky little rollers which – amazingly – actually work).
Sibirica; sometimes only for a single day before they go over.
Charity shop: supposedly 3D, but looking at the individual pieces with their shifting colour makes your eyes go googly. And disassembly is a pig, as the pieces jam together, making the image-bearing plastic delaminate from the cardboard substrate. Really glad it was a Bargain.
The image is fraudulent. 1) the clear soil denies certain thickets of roots that are impossible to excavate. Some of them are from the hydrangea petiolaris on the fence, but roots of nettle and bramble and bindweed are woven inextricably among. 2) what appears to be tilth is a thin skim of spent compost raked over the horrible clay lumps, gravel and fragments of concrete that pass for earth. 3) the slant of sunshine disguises that this is north-facing. 4) the fences shelter from wind, but also from rain, and this is dry – all the way to the bottom.
The petiolaris, God bless it, copes with anything, and can be left to get on. As for the new border “soil”, in such adverse conditions it is a question of throwing in everything you’ve got, and seeing what survives.