Nope. A bit fat blank. I have not found my favourite secateurs, nor my trowel. My potting shed is sparkling mind you.
Everything orderly and in the right place.
Well it didn’t start out that way. And it took hours.
Here are my seed sowing accoutrements which needed sizing and cleaning and stacking under the staging benches.
And I cleaned not only the windows, but the linoleum covers of the benches. Filthy. But only dirt and the occasional dead insect that was quite mummified after a winter indoors.
Took my mind off the lost secateurs.
Those are all my dahlias potted up and labelled. Sage and ballota cuttings. A few sedums I didn’t plant out. The wondrous choiysia Aztec Pearl cuttings which are doing absolutely nothing. I checked. Maybe they will come into root soon. Or I’ll go out and take fresh cuttings. I’d love to increase my crop of these shrubs.
And the choreography of seed sowing is very soothing. Broad beans, climbing beans, courgettes, cucumbers, more brassicas.
More orderliness in my life. My favourite secateur-free life.
It is a pleasant distraction.
And of course I now have a list of the seeds I ought to have ordered a month ago. Courgette Soleil, Cherry Rose Jewel nasturtiums…. Probably a zillion other things. I just can’t seem to get my brain around a normal season’s sowing and growing with this darn Brexit in my brain.
It’s a big voting week for the British parliament. I’ll be glued to the drama. I am even such a saddo that I have written out the schedule of voting sequence and the dread consequence.
I wonder what will happen first, me finding a lost pair of snips, or the British government going up in smoke.