Floriferous frenzy

It's almost too much to take in, this headlong rush into summer.

Even waking at 5 and going in at 9,

there aren't enough hours to absorb all the changes.

Roses bloom and petals drop,

the foxglove spires elongate and fill with bees,

the clematis Wilsonii really does smell of chocolate,

but the honeysuckle is still scentless.Why?

Californian poppies shout for attention.

The white wisteria veil falls again across the Sisisinghurst walls,

a little respite.

A hammock is slung.

The occupant now bound once again for Japan.

Green and pink

After a briefly warm interlude,

the clouds have rolled back in

and the heavens have opened.

But if we want green, 

and no hose pipe ban,

we're going to need a replenished water table

after the driest April on record.

This little one is back.

We will have her for her first overnight stay soon.

The guest suite has been prepared.

And I managed to finish this jacket before she grew out of it,

but fear it might not meet with her approval

as it is not pink.

Yes, that's the way the land lies despite no obvious gender bias

being put into operation for her clothes, toys or furnishings at home -

up until now, when she is able to make her preferences crystal clear. 

(See pink toenails above.)

Looking up

The weather,

(sorry it's all I can talk about at the moment)

is looking up.

Warm enough to shed the 'shmere,

and tempting enough to plant out the tomatoes 

and think about filling the pots, troughs and baskets
which are still full of tulip stalks.

Much though I love Sarah Raven's planting combinations,

it is more economical to take her suggestions to the local garden centre.

I can also choose my moment rather than being worried 

that I won't be here when they arrive and they will shrivel on the doorstep.

The window man is back.

Work has started on replacing our rotten garage doors,

so that's going to be a welcome facelift for the house. 

and quite by coincidence I managed to bump into

Mark Rylance again, while lurking outside The Mousetrap

which I perhaps inadvisedly decided was one of those things 

I ought to have seen by now.

And no, I haven't seen Star Wars or read War and Peace.

We fitted in a trip to Avebury, which was a full winter garb experience

but still very uplifting.

We heard our son's plane fly in over the house this morning.
I looked up but couldn't see it as the clouds have rolled back in,
but it will be lovely to have him back for a little while,
until he takes off again for Japan.

It was all going so well

Lush flowers. 

Blue skies.

Serene swan.

Fresh ferns.

Smiling lambs.

Sparkling sea.

And then the wind changed.

And it has been grim grey ever since,

with a side order of chilly wind

and a return to winter clothing

of which I am heartily sick.

So I took a leaf out of Lotta's book

and culled the towels

and then felt happy for Freda

and anyone else who isn't sitting under a cloud.

Perhaps some of you remember 

Neither Use Nor Ornament.

I get updates from there from time to time

and have vicariously enjoyed a recent trip 

to the tea plantations of Munnar

and an Ashram at Kurisumala.

Time to pack my bags perhaps.

That will guarantee an improvement in the weather at home.

We are the people who arrive at any destination to be greeted by the words,

'Oh if only you had been here last week. It was glorious.'