It was all go at Old Post House this morning. At 7 a.m. Ian and a companion from CSG cleaning services pumped out our septic tank; between 9 and 10 Ronan of Tom Sutton Heating had another attempt to stir our last radiator on the system into life; at 9.30 Martin arrived for whole day’s shift in the garden.
Despite, or maybe because of the bright sunshine, finger-tingling-chill crisped the air.
More tulips are blooming.
Varieties of daffodil keep on coming. The up-market cat, perhaps Persian of some sort, from No. 5 Downton Lane remains persistent in dislodging the fence planks along the Back Drive intended to deter marauders. We hope it reduces rodent infiltrators.
Mahonia thrives on the more sunlit side of our rear entrance. Hellebores are ubiquitous.
Wandering along the paths I noticed several of Camellia’s pink carpets, and that the Weeping Birch will soon be in leaf.
Soon after we arrived here some of our small trees gave up the ghost and we shrouded them with climbing plants, such as clematis and roses.
Recent storms have finally toppled two of them.
Here, Martin concentrates on a prunus pissardii, first clearing it, then strengthening supports for the plants that had festooned it. The last picture in this gallery is “Where’s Martin? (4)”.
This evening we dined on another of Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie; crunchy carrots, and firm cauliflower and broccoli, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Puglia Nero di Troia 2020.