Indelible

a personal blog

Tag: garden

The sound of a lawnmower

That’s what I can hear outside this afternoon. Himself bought a new lawnmower as he’d managed to kill the other one. Correction: the garden killed it! He ran over a tree stump and the old mower broke. So when we were out in Aber today, he bought a new one and a strimmer to go with it. So he’s out there, doing what he loves to do! Is it a man-thing, enjoying cutting the grass. Left up to me, I’d, well, leave it. I love the daisies and dandilions and buttercups and speedwell that grow in the grass. So I’d just let them grow.

I tried to take my laptop outside, hoping to do some blogging al fresco. But the light was not good enough to see the screen by. Or the screen was too dark, or something. Anyway, Simba and Jack thought I should play with them instead of looking at that silly thing. They’re probably right! Anyway, it’s now much later and I’m back indoors working on the desktop.  Yes, I have two computers. Their names are Sheldon (desktop) and Sands (laptop). No prizes for guessing where I got those names!

The garden is looking lovely right now and less and less like Tish’s garde. She’s the lady who actually planted everything and formed the garden. But I’m less of a keen gardener than she was. I’m of the school of let it alone and if it’s meant to be there, it will grow. I can’t be doing with constantly trimming this and weeding that. I like weeds, especially the kind with pretty flowers. I don’t like “hot house” plants or the kinds of plants that need attention. I like the slightly wild look. I’m happy to prune now and then, pull up those horrible clinging weeds that suck the life out of everything and cut back raspberry canes. But that’s all.

I’m still planning to change the old vegetable patch into a herb garden. But I realised that I’m not going to grow so many herbs that the whole patch would be covered. So we’re going to lay turf in the middle and leave a two foot deep border around the outside for cooking herbs, lavender etc. L and I are trying to persuade Himself to let us leave one bit of lawn to grow wild, for the sake of butterflies and bees. He is an enthusiastic mower though, so I think we’re onto an uphill battle with this one.

Well, hopefully the rain will stay off so we can get out into the garden again tomorrow. We like to let the hens out while we potter around, and they equally potter about on their own bits of gardening. They’re doing very well at clearing the back of leaves, by scratching up the ground in search of bugs and worms. We always get bigger eggs the day after they’ve been out!

Nos da.

It’s a sunny day in Chancery

I live in a tiny hamlet called Chancery; or to give it it’s Welsh name, Rhyd-Galed. Which means “hard ford”. Our cottage has a name that I don’t really like, as it was a combination of the names of the people who lived here at least, oh, three or four owners ago. Originally, it was “Glan Dwr”, which means by the water. We’re thinking of changing the name. But as we don’t have a house number, it’s a legal matter. So far we can’t decided between Glan Dwr and my daughter’s suggestion, Swn-y-Nant. Which means “sound of the stream”. I like that one, as we have a stream that runs along the left side of the garden and under the road, to run along the back of the cottages over the road and away. (The “w” in Swn should have a little hat on, but I don’t know how to make that character.)

I love this cottage. It’s at least 200 years old and probably older. The ceilings are low, so it’s a good thing that none of us are giants! Various owners have added bits onto it. Originally it was just three rooms: a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. Which is a lot more than the other cottages have. At least three of them, out of four others, have only two or three rooms. And that’s after bathrooms were built onto them.

But anyway, the sun is shining in Chancery. It’s still chilly inside the cottage, though with two feet thick stone walls that’s not surprising. There are sheep with lambs in the field nextdoor. They really are adorable and they’re coming up to the age when they’ll be curious about us, and the cats. Last year’s batch were funny, wanting to get a closer look at the cats, but still trying to obey their Mums and not get too close to those strange creatures.  And what they think of us two legged objects!

 Himself was almost offered a contract that meant he would be working in Aber. I know, too good to be true. I got all excited, thinking how lovely it would be to have him at home, actually every day, for a change. But he had to turn it down as the money wasn’t good enough. Ah well. It was a nice idea, but we’re okay as we are really. And what would I do with him home every day? I’d never let him do any work!

So, a sunny day.

Pryn da.

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