“Gird your loins…”

Sat having a smoke in the garden at dusk. It’s been a long day. The garden is a mess again. A metaphor for my mind at the moment. The Dianthus need dead heading, the roses need spraying with fungicide, the Ground Elder needs more weed killer, the grass needs hoovering, the beds needs weeding and the pile of detritus needs burning before it starts rotting. It’s amazing how quick a garden can look messy.

I can hear a Tawny Owl hooting in the copse near where we live… We always loved being closer to nature. Red Kites, two types of Owls and My Lady’s favourite… Pipistrelle bats. Swooping and diving then veering away suddenly when they realise how big you are. They are only the size of a mouse. Cute. Go out into your garden at dusk. You may see them if you keep the lights off.

I need to sort out the solar lights. I purchased about thirty of the bloody things when I was grief spending. Half of them have stopped working. In one way the garden serves its purpose but I’m still going to make it beautiful for My Lady.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better. The last downer dragged out too long. I think I might have another chat with my contact at Cruse. She has been so helpful. Time to be the storm again…

The Tawny Owls are still hooting at each other. How I wish My Lady was here so we could listen to it cuddling in bed with the windows open…