Dylan Thomas described the persistent drizzle that greeted Saturday morning as ‘ a thin-gnat rain’ with admirable accuracy; its effect was to render me, and my fellow shoppers wet, but no too bedraggled. As it was a mild day, people still felt like exchanging a smile, and indulging in brief conversations while waiting for the free bus to get back to the car-park.
I got talking to a fellow-member of the grey-haired brigade who told me: last year she had flown for the first time in her life, and loved visiting Patagonia and Niagara Falls; so, in just one week, she was joining another group, and flying again; this time to New York, Canada, then back to the USA; she wondered what the weather would be like in New York; I suggested she expect somewhat hotter temperatures than we’ve had recently in Wales.
The shops were busy, but a few more have closed down, while those remaining in business are offering many goods at much reduced prices in order to attract buyers. I bought some plastic storage-boxes; the kind useful for popping bits in the fridge, etc.. I like those that have lids which fit on easily.
Sunday’s weather was in complete contrast, so I was able to cut the grass, and try to relieve some hydrangeas of their huge, waterlogged heads that were so heavy, they were causing the whole bush to gape apart. It was heartbreaking to commit such a sacrilege, but it seemed better to sacrifice a few blooms and save the remainder. I also erected a few more bamboo wigwams to help the agapanthus which have reached magnificent heights, with heads to match, but have, like the gladioli and eryngiums, suffered some buffeting from recent winds and rain which would have destroyed the flowering stems had they not been protected by these simple supports.
We have so many shrubs in flower, the garden is a riot of colour; I’m trying not to think of the pruning that must follow in September and October; a sad, but necessary duty that concludes the growing seasons of Spring and Summer in the gardening year, while preparing for the coming Autumn and Winter, as well as, Deo volente, next year. As I get older, the sheer volume of work seems unending; thank heaven for some extra willing hands. The outcome is likely to cause a re-think about re-locating; the thought is a troubling one, but will have to be faced – sometime in the future.
Monday was a lovely morning, but I decided to give myself a pedicure. There’s nothing like a session in the garden, on top of a day’s shopping, to remind one of basic essentials. My wise mother, and also her mother, my Scots grandmother, impressed upon me, ‘Look after your feet, and they’ll carry you through life.’ At seventy-six I’ve no corns or bunions, but my toe-nails give me fair warning when it’s time for a trim.
Today has brought back the rain: so, I have no excuse not to get my blog up to date; read the latest emails that I so enjoy receiving, but am sometimes tardy in answering, and try to complete another chapter of my book.