Be careful where you go.
Thursday Trails – Buildings in Bits
gardens
Serene Sunday – Floralia
Floralia was an ancient Roman festival in honour of the goddess Flora. We have a lot to thank Flora for!
Tuesday Tiny Tale – Gardeners’ World
And now we visit another viewer’s garden, someone who has created an interesting garden around his self built home on a brownfield site.
‘This is a small, unusually shaped piece of land surrounded by a main line railway, a motorway and a huge Amazon Warehouse. The house itself is certainly unique. Did the house inspire the garden or the garden dictate the house design?’
‘I created the garden first while we lived in the tiny caravan that is now my potting shed.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Two years.’
‘That is amazing, the luxuriant feel, the fact we are unaware of the outside world, shielded by mature trees and interesting boulders and you did all this by yourself?’
‘Yes, never done any gardening before, just went on instinct, buying plants and searching scrap yards to create unusual features. It’s been so good for my mental health, creating a garden that would bring joy.’
Two Weeks Earlier
Marcia peered out from the grim unfinished interior of Harry’s unfinished self build house, wondering how she ever got involved with him. The continuous rain had made his so called garden a quagmire; the new plants had given up the struggle to survive amidst the rubble. At least she had insisted on keeping her cosy flat. Marcia had no intention of staying in the squalid caravan he called a park home. As a high speed train raced by she missed half of what Harry was telling her.
‘Camera crew in two weeks’ time, what are you on about?’
‘Don’t you remember Marcy, I told you I had applied to feature on Gardeners’ World?’
‘But you haven’t got a garden, what on earth possessed you…?’
‘I couldn’t get on Grand Designs so I thought I’d show him, Kevin Grand McCloud. Just needs a bit of tidying up, didn’t know all the plants were going to die, a bit of topsoil should do the trick.’
‘Just cancel it Harry and concentrate on finishing the bloody house. I’m going back to my flat right now.’
‘I’m not going to cancel, they do those Flower Show gardens in a couple of weeks. Rick’s mate does Chelsea, or at least he drives the huge trucks that deliver trees. Don’t you worry your pretty head Marcy, I’ve got a plan. A bit of disruption, but we haven’t got any neighbours to annoy.’
Luckily for Harry there were major works going on at the motorway junction and nobody took any notice of the succession of trucks, cranes and pantechnicons making there way to the patch of wasteland that motorists and train passengers thought was part of the creation of a new slip road.
Harry got some of the blokes from work over to help and Rick got some blokes from goodness knows where to help with deliveries. The endless rain at least meant new trees and plants did not need watering in.
Two Days Earlier
‘There we are Marcia, all we need now is an adorable dog to complete the cosy scene.’
‘We haven’t got a dog.’
‘That’s okay, Rick knows where to get one.’
Two Days Later
Police are investigating a series of reports of audacious burglaries from country estates, professional gardeners and quarries. It is not known if they are connected. The thieves took mature trees, plants, sculptures and a Great Dane. One theory is that professional gardeners preparing for the garden show season have been targeted.
Tuesday Tall Tale – Slow Radio
And finally in breakfast news a surprising hit. Slow Radio slots have become popular as calming moments of bird song or rowing boats. The latest is a continuous live broadcast 24/7 from a quiet little road somewhere. The location remains secret to protect the inhabitants, human and otherwise. Listeners have been tuning in to hear everyday sounds of hum drum life, dogs barking, people chatting. In the dark watches of the night insomniacs and night workers say there is still plenty to hear, the haunting cry of foxes and the whisper of the milkman’s float.
As residents fetch their bins in on Monday morning there is plenty to hear so let’s drop in.
I found your food bin in the middle of the road.
Oh thanks, did you hear the wind last night?
Yes, my lid blew open, cardboard and paper all over next door’s lawn.
There’s a nurse going in over the road, she was there yesterday.
Is it him or her?
Goodness knows, haven’t seen either of them for ages.
You never know what’s going on with that high hedge.
Do you mind taking a parcel for next door?
Sure, certainly won’t fit through the letterbox ha ha.
I’m not carrying your scooter Dryden, I’ve got the buggy to push, you wanted to ride it to school. BRANDON, stop at the corner. BRAANDON WAAIT. Dryden get on that scooter and catch up with your brother.
Yes of course, I’m not using it today, still not fixed then?
Not coming till Friday now and I‘ve got to get their PE things washed, thanks so much.
Those strange people are across the road again. I call them the creepy couple, coming this way since lockdown. At first I thought they were trying to steal Truffles when I saw them squatting down poking their hands through the fence.
Pity they didn’t steal him, we would have been saved all that barking.
He ran straight in my house the other day, nearly caught the cat.
Aren’t your daffodils looking good.
Yes, despite being battered by the wind and rain.
So what do you want at the greengrocers today?
Some of those grapes as long as they don’t have pips, one banana, not too big, not green, but not too ripe. Can you manage potatoes a well… oh look he’s on the roof again.
I don’t believe it, she must be away, surely she wouldn’t let him, what if the ladder blows down while he’s up there.
I reckon you’re right, he is rebuilding that chimney stack.
How old do you reckon he is?
Well he was retired when we moved here.
I can’t see him, hope he didn’t fall down the other side…
Truffles, Truffles, come here at once… sorry, sorry, are you okay?
I can’t talk now, I’m out in the street, no it isn’t a good time, how did you get my number anyway?
Truffles, come out of the lady’s nice garden. Sorry, sorry, yes I can see what he’s done I’ll just pop home and get a bag to clear it up, once I’ve caught him…
Oh here he is coming round to the front, he must have a ladder at the back as well. Was that Truffles running by?
The producer of Slow Street 24 is in the studio with us. Why do you think this has become so popular?
People need a break from their frantic lives, they just love to hear from somewhere where nothing is happening.
And do the residents mind being recorded, doesn’t that mean they are guarded in what they say?
Not at all, they don’t know they are being live streamed.
Monday Madness – Febmas
How was Febmas for you?
Strange guests?
Or a touch of spring?
The traditional Febmas morning run?
What is the most unusual cheese you had for Febmas? Answer to this one at the end.
How many Aliens came to your garden?
The traditional Big Shop for Febmas. How much does this box weigh?
For most of us Febmas is over now and time to get ready for spring.
Answers, not necessarily in the right order…
6.5 kilograms
One
Chocolate, Cheshire cheese and brandy.
Tell us about your Febmas, strangest cheese and visitors…
Tuesday Tiny Tale – Under The Weather
Fliss pulled open her bedroom curtains and sighed with delight. The rising sun set a rosy glow over the garden, it was going to be beautiful for her day off.
She waved everyone off to work and school and settled with her coffee in their so called sun lounge, the make shift extension her husband had cobbled onto the back of the house. With the autumn sun streaming in sideways, as she sat in the rickety cane chair, she could imagine herself to be in a posh conservatory.
The garden called, but so did the common. She felt so energised she could easily do her 10,000 steps, come home, plant all her spring bulbs, quick lunch then take her mother to the garden centre as promised, lovely relaxing afternoon tea and a good gossip. They could go in that farm shop and get some nice things for dinner.
Everyone was out on the common, walkers, joggers and dog owners; lots of people she knew or at least familiar faces who always smiled and waved. She should get a dog, why not, just because the rest of the family protested and vowed never to walk it if she brought a dog home. She would walk it herself twice a day, while doing her 10,000 steps, or 20,000, she was ready for 20,000. She smiled at dog walkers, already feeling part of the canine community and just laughed when a muddy retriever jumped up and left paw marks on her clean trousers. A labradoodle or springer spaniel would be perfect.
Back at home she scattered the bulbs all over the lawn, no more mowing, wildflower field with naturalised bulbs. Fliss dug enthusiastically into the tough wet grass; she could send a video in to Gardeners’ World, the new puppy trotting through the flowery meadow, perhaps she would get two dogs. She could take them into work, it was a wonderful company she worked for, very welcoming to children and pets of staff members, all part of looking after colleagues’ mental health.
Without warning everything suddenly went dark, Fliss looked up. The blue sky had disappeared and dark clouds rolled over the roof of her house, large rain drops landed on her nose. She looked at her watch, that time already, why had she agreed to take her mother out on her only day off? No doubt her mother would spend the afternoon complaining about anything and everything.
Fliss rushed to put the tools away and on impulse tossed the rest of the bulbs in the compost bin. The garden was a mess, John was right, might as well cover it all with a useful patio and he could knock down his dreadful extension at the same time. She stormed indoors and consumed a whole bar of her daughter’s chocolate while she threw on some clean clothes. If her mother commented on her choice of outfit she would definitely lose her rag. No time to think about this evening’s dinner, she wasn’t going to waste her day off cooking, they could take a turn in the kitchen for a change and if Johnn didn’t start doing his share of housework she would hand in her notice at work. She hated the job anyway, whatever possessed her to take it?
As Fliss opened the front door the rain lashed in; all she wanted to do was go back to bed, what a dreadful day.
Silly Sunday
For those of you wondering how nature had taken over by 2099, this might be a clue…
WARNING, VEGANS MIGHT BE OFFENDED BY THE FOLLOWING ITEM
I was in our local real family butcher’s buying a free range chicken. Two young men I had not seen before were serving. I also asked for half a dozen outdoor reared sausages. The chap serving me said to the other ‘Half a dozen, is that seven?’
For a moment I worried that I was behind the times in a decimal digital age and I could have just asked for six. But hang on, eggs still come in dozens and half dozens. How attached are we to twelve? Is it because there were twelve disciples, or three is a holy number that multiplies to twelve. Photographers and gardeners ‘know’ three boats in a picture or three plants in a round tub are better than two…
The origin of ten is obvious as we have ten fingers to count on… what would have happened if we had carried on using Roman numerals and never heard of any other system… Better stop thinking, no need to wear our brains out on Sunday evening.
How is your Jolly July garden rewilding going?
Saturday Short Story – Past Times
Belinda Billings was now enjoying her new life in 2023, though initially it had been a shock, slipping in seconds from their 2099 bunker into a city full of people, more people within touching distance than she had ever seen in her life. Luckily they had Lauren of London to guide them as they were crushed and buffeted along. Some kind of official guided them into a building where they were ushered to a table as if they had been expected and given a revolting warm brown drink. It soon became obvious they had not been expected when they were questioned. Belinda began to fear they had been taken prisoner by soldiers from the Salvation Army. What happened after that had become a blur.
All that mattered now was that she and Doctor Chowdry were going to live forever with Lauren of London in a beautiful house, huge beyond Belinda’s wildest imaginings. She could not understand why they had been told the past was so dreadful; here she didn’t have to work, could stay outside all day with no wild animals and walk around vast green spaces that were called ‘the grounds’. This was deemed to be good for Belinda’s health and she took full advantage, exploring the many paths every day, though she was still nervous of going too far and getting lost. Out in the summer sunshine every day she was now browner than Doctor Chowdry, who spent too much time in the library.
Belinda was not sure exactly what went on at this place. They had various visitors who were very interested in talking to Belinda, which she loved; back in the bunker nobody took much notice of what she had to say. She wondered what everyone back in the bunker was thinking now; she had been right about the prophecy that Lauren of London would come from the past to take them back. It must have been strange for the observers at the bunker to see them step through the portal and disappear.
She paused to examine some new blooms, there were flowers everywhere, so many colours and heady scents.
‘Belinda, Belinda, oh there you are.’
‘What are these flowers called Lauren?’
‘Roses, very romantic flowers, but mind the thorns.’
‘I could wander round here all morning.’
‘You have been wandering around  all morning, I came to call you for lunch, we have a new guest apparently.’
‘You look sad Lauren.’
‘I am sad, I haven’t seen my family for two months, I want to go back to my own house.’
‘Is it like the house here?’
‘No, no, it’s so small it would fit into the dining room.’
‘So why do you want to go back?’
‘Because it’s where I belong, not in 2099, not here, but in my own home. I’m lonely without my husband and children.’
‘But you could stay here forever with me, then you wouldn’t be lonely.’
Belinda saw Lauren’s sad smile and despite the glorious sun on her face she felt a chill run down her spine. Deep down she knew something was wrong. Doctor Chowdry certainly was not happy, even though it had been his dream to travel through time. He muttered constantly about talking properly to important people instead of being imprisoned in a fool’s paradise.
No, no, Belinda was not going to think about things she did not understand, she wanted to just enjoy walking through the gardens with Lauren.
‘What are those buzzy things called?’
‘Bees, very clever and vital for pollinating flowers.’
‘What does pollinating mean?’
‘I’m not sure, we can look it up, but I do know this long border is heaven for bees… don’t pick the flowers, we’re already in trouble with the head gardener… Oh my goodness, is that Him?’
‘The head gardener?’
‘No, no Him, the one who rescued us and let us stay in this wonderful place… he is supposed to be anonymous, oh dear I wonder if we should curtsy?’
Monday Madness
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What better accolade could a blogger ask for?
This was our book club book this month and it was really interesting and an enjoyable read. Apart from learning a lot about Antarctic and Arctic exploring the many human snippets were fascinating. One of the leading officers would stay up writing till 2am , though he had to rise at 5am. As well as keeping  his official journal he had promised a good friend he would keep a personal journal. Writers and insomniacs will empathise. I have enough trouble packing for a week’s holiday, imagine packing supplies for four years including live bullocks… I bet they did not worry about catering for the crew’s dietary requirements and allergies. It’s also of note that many serving in the navy had gone to sea at thirteen or fourteen, no snow flakes on board…
When at last you get that Tonka truck you always longed for.
Missing No Mow May? Let it Bloom June is here.
Or perhaps you would prefer Jurassic June.
How about Meandering Monday.
No Mow May
Excitement is building as gardeners everywhere measure their grass to see the results of No Mow May.
How tall is a blade of grass?
Will leaving nature alone see the arrival of new species of insects?
Will your regular flowers make a bid for freedom?
No garden is too small to turn into a jungle.
…or a wildflower meadow
There is no reason why you can’t still play with your pot plants and plant pots and dream of entering Chelsea Flower Show. Bespoke bin store with rainwater saving feature created by Strobe Interiors .
( Christmas Trees are not just for Christmas… )
And of course you can never have too many flowers for the bees.
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 