Restless

I can’t seem to settle to any task.   Maybe it’s because having so many house guests means that there’s just only a few hours in between large meals.   Or even more pertinent, house guests are more fun than settling down and doing work.

Or it’s the old shed pre-occupation. I spent a good part of yesterday afternoon (supposed to be in my office working) drawing up a scaled plan of how I want the new potting shed to look. Windows galore, decking round the edges, places for cold frames on the south side. Too exciting. And as it’s only a dream as I can’t rustle up a willing carpenter, that’s how it stays. And I stay stuck on how I want the interior to look – a properly designed area for potting up. Storage. A slight slope to all the benches so that when I water I can collect the run off rather than having it all over the floor.   Endless possiblities. And all the while those mighty red poultry mites still find the perfect nesting location for their nefarious deeds. Me.

But in between itching and scratching and day dreaming, I have managed to move eight wheelbarrow loads of soil onto the newly weeded calabert bed. The soil was left over from the bulldozer work up at the top of the guest house.   And having weeded this bed, I know how thin the soil is.   So in the glorious afternoon heat I plodded up and came back and felt very pleased indeed.

Oh, and planted fifteen eragrostis grasses here too.   They were languishing in pots and weren’t doing any good there. So I have placed half as a row in the vegetable garden as a sort of nursery bed for the rest of the year. And some here in the calabert garden.   They can get their roots down and put on some growth before I left them next spring in their final place.   That’s the bank above the pool, that has pennisetum bald patches.