Snow

So, the UK appears to have come to a standstill… the schools are all shut, the kids are all out sledging, and the garden looks like it’s been suspended in time.  A garden in the snow…. hope you enjoy…

Feed the birds… but as fast as you fill the feeders up, the snow comes down again and buries it.

The Viburnum. Pretty in the frost… pretty in the snow.

Branches full of the white stuff.

Kale in the veg plot. One of the few things that’s actually growing at this time of year. I do actually think the stuff is indestructable!

Banked up along the fence and the trellis…

Here today, plum tomorrow

Last weekend, the plum tree was laden with fruit, and we could see ourselves gorging on plum-related goodies all through the winter. However, nature had another plan.

Autumn nipped into the garden yesterday on the back of a strong wind, which whipped all the plums off the tree, into the shrubbery beneath.

A bit of grubbing around produced half a basket of almost edible fruit, which weren’t any good for the fruit bowl but I’ve stoned and frozen them and they are making their way into a smoothie near you.

The  little plastic greenhouse had also blown over… again, spreading my PSBs all over the place. I wonder if they have the kiss of death, as they are either being munched to within an inch of their life  by caterpillars, or are in a random heap on the patio.

I’ve discovered a design fault with these  greenhouses – three words:

They… are… rubbish… Roll on getting the garden sorted and my new greenhouse up and working.

The big saw-off – aka never give a girl a power tool

Up until a couple of weeks ago, we had a massive tree at the bottom of the garden, that seeded everywhere and blocked out all the light. So it had to go. I negotiated a good deal with a ‘man what can’, and got a discount if I disposed of all the branches myself and he just took the trunk away.

So, last weekend, dressed in sensible lumberjack attire of shorts and vest-tops (goggles are for wimps), my friend and I set to work.

We set up the circular saw on the decking, and were having a fine old time. I fed the logs in, she brought the mighty saw down on them and sliced them like butter. All nearly went ‘pants up’ when I accidentally put my wrist near the spinny blade – but the near-scare made us just be a little more careful.

Anyway, we must have set the neighbours off, as we heard a sawing noise coming from the house that backs on to us – they were tidying up their Leylandii. My friend and I were now rather bored of sawing, and were imagining the hunky lumberjack types on the other side of the hedge, so we entertained ourselves by feeding logs into the saw in a provocative manner, and bending over to retrieve logs rather more often than was really necessary.

Imagine our surprise when two heads popped through the foiliage, and they had an average age of about 102.

Foiled again…