The wake up call
For the second time this week I have been woken at 0524 by a noise. A woodpecker using our bedroom shutter as a percussion instrument (they don’t have any song, so noise is their call). And boy does it wake you with a start.
And does one get back to sleep?
Harrumph. Sleep deprived, sneezing. I seize the day.
I sneeze the day.
But it didn’t stop me weeding: I’ve ticked off the walnut bank, the edge of the walnut bank, and the barn garden.
The volume of bags of greenery going to the compost heap is quite extraoardinary. Luckily it will all be put to good use as compost in a year’s time.
The barn garden has been weeded to within an inch of its life. I swear there is not a blade of grass out of place. That’s fun. And it’s so lovely to have the lavender stoechas flowering so merrily.
These plants took such a beating in the cold winter a few years ago, but they are fine now if a bit mis shapen.