The view from the bottom of the garden

One thing at a time please! My very first blog so I’ll keep it┬ábrief. (Haven’t even worked out the layout etc.)

Here is my own little world in the garden. On the negative side it’s rather (very) messy but it does have its own micro-climate and is as private as life gets in a small village. It smells sweetly of honey at the moment thanks to the flowering of the golden privet hedge, ligustrum ovalifolium ‘Aureum’ running the length of our plot. I’ve been trying to identify a few of the bees on it but they reel away from me in a drunken manner before I can focus on my chart.

So, here is my space to air my rants and save my Facebook friends. I too am reeling, but not in a drunken manner as it’s one of my two planned alcohol-free days per week. But, oh dear, Brexit! I have been invited to join a protest in the hope that Parliament may be persuaded to reverse the decision. How I would love this to happen but the thing that stops me is the thought of racist mayhem on the streets. So I’m doing nothing but intending to be extra nice to Continentals, should I meet any in this corner of Devon.

Tonight my daughter-in-law will attend a Labour party meeting and I’m looking forward to hearing about it. I hope she will be able to throw some light on why Jeremy Corbyn’s colleagues are all deserting him. Yes, I’ve read the conspiracy theory but doesn’t that sound fanciful? S may know, when next I see her.

Also, why do birds always crap on the biggest item on the washing line? Why the duvet cover; there were plenty of smaller items to choose? And speaking of the birds, sparrows and pigeons have been mating on their feeding station, just outside my window: makes

me think of lurid novels where people have sex on the kitchen table. Mine’s a bit too cluttered, I’m afraid.

Not quite as brief as I had intended. And where are the pictures? Perhaps they’ll pop up again when I ‘publish’.

 

 

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