Summer in the cutting garden
And we’re back. Do I write that a lot? It feels like it.
And we have escaped the heatwave of London to catch the tail of the one in France. Storms tomorrow. So it’s a good thing I’m organised enough to post you news today.
We may lose our power tomorrow if the predicted biblical storms hit.
I won’t mind as long as there is a bit of rain in that weather front.
Yeah. That will be a dead cert.
But let’s not dwell on the gloom. Let’s leap into the potager and pick flowers instead.
Roses. Flush number two.
The second flush of these English roses is never as butch as the first. The scent is still divine but the blooms seem to fall off when they come within quiver distance of my secateurs.
But a few tucked away inside a packed bunch gives the appropriate gorgeous surprise.
Ooh, rumble of thunder. The storm front seem to have come in a bit earlier than predicted. I’d best rush.
And the new dahlias. Too thrilling to announce they have survived the battering.
I’ve made a few fast bouquets for friends. But I’ll take more time over the next week to have a good inspection and shove my camera up close.
Rats. This storm is too close. I have to unplug my power and ride this out. Rain dances in my direction will be welcome.