When I look over recent posts I see a pattern forming: dirt, rocks, blasted landscape. And then I try and beguile you with photos of flowers.
A bit like this.
Which is a lot more thrilling than this:
I have been hard at work shifting lots of soil about the parts of the garden which are ghastly.
This is the east garden (thank goodness I decided not to call it the East Lawn) and it has barely recovered from the builders’ sand and mortar that lived down the far end for three months this year.
Every bucket of soil gets flung about a huge area, trying to pretend it looks future lawn again.
There is no point even thinking about resowing. I have to wait for autumn and the delicious promise of rain to get it back into shape.
So for now we head away from the brown stuff and move on to something a bit more lush and fun.
I thought I’d best start the way I did early this morning. I took a turn down in the potager.
Here it’s all lush and green and groaning with crops.
Outside the chestnut fence it’s all brown and crispy and gasping for rain.
The raspberries are ripening like mad. I do love a double crop.
And is there any better breakfast than this?
There. That’s your colourful dose. Next week back to dirt.