There's plenty in my head to write about, maybe too much.
Since last I wittered, (a long time ago,) the seasons have stagnated and I'm fairly convinced that just one season remains - a wet one. The fields are still sodden, our animals are damp and though the snowdrops are still showing off, (if your snowdrops have come and gone by now you must remember we are high above sea level here and consequently a couple of weeks behind warmer parts of the UK) and the daff heads are swelling for their turn, the jury's out whether this will be a good year.
I heard a lovely story, though can't recall where, was it Bob Flowerdew?.... he called a garden centre and asked if they had any snowdrops for sale in the green....... 'Sorry' said the lady on the end of the phone, 'We only have white ones.' Bless.
Another excuse for not writing is that I'm back to work, supporting a vocational school. A worthy cause actually.
I've sowed some seeds. Some have foundered, some have not. There must be a glimmer of optimism.
Chilli (Tabasco), tomato and Cerinthe are all doing well. Modules of Rose Campion are beginning to spurt. I'm checking the Dahlia and Cosmos plants of last year, protected over winter. Life looks unlikely, but then again I'm surprised by plants each and every year. They may just need a little more warmth; I'm hoping that rumours of last Tuesday being the summer of 2013 are untrue.
Sweet Pea, sown in October, December and then again in January are also doing well. I gazed at a label for one of the sowings, wondering what variety Leominster was. I couldn't find or recall the packet. It came to me later; these were the perpetual strong pink Sweet Pea pods I'd pilfered from a pub in Leominster.
Plant pilfering seems less of a crime as I head towards 50. 50! I remember my mother taking cuttings from some concrete and pebble planters, (must have been the 70's,) outside an impressive insurance company. I was mortified, especially when I looked up and saw the security guard inside, heading towards the glass entrance doors. We'd been spotted.
My mum was totally engrossed and there was nowhere to hide, we were going to prison and my younger sister and brother would have to go into care, as all dad could cook was breakfast egg-flips, a revolting mixture of warm milk, sugar and raw egg shaken to a frenzy and gulped down. Urgh!
The guard descended the steps towards us, instantly authoritative in his dark suit, shiny buttons and banded cap.
'There's better bits round the back in the car park; reds and blues.' he said and smiled. Clearly a fellow pilferer. Holy cow, who can you trust nowadays?
According to our cats spring is deffo here; their gifts of the hindquarters of Easter bunnies secreted behind the sofa in the kitchen bearing testimony to the fact.
Well, it's been nice chatting, I've enjoyed dipping my toe in the wittering water..... I'll be back soon I hope..