I’m not sure whether I had a busy weekend last weekend or whether it just appeared busy because I’ve been such a sloth lately.
I took the dog on our usual 3km walk. It was lovely and I remembered why I enjoy it so much. Being out of routine with work and throwing very cold weather into the mix as well has meant not as much morning exercise.
I walk past a big flowering quince in the morning. Its flowers signal the end of winter. It’s a precursor to the flowering fruit trees that will start to bud and blossom in the next month. The first flush of flowers have sprung from bare branches and they glow in the morning sun.
My partner and I did beaucoup work in the yard. He wielded the line trimmer, I man-handled the lawn mower.
We have a pretty big yard - at least half an acre - and it has a lot of trees and shrubs in no particular planned order. In fact, the planting is rather chaotic. Claret ashes fight for supremacy with each other, a maple tree is threatened by the tendrils of a grape vine. Lilac goes toe to toe with hawthorn, then along the front verandah is a ridiculously crowded garden bed with roses, rosemary, periwinkle, erigeron, alyssum, leeks, irises and some big monster pink flowering triffid thing. And jonquils.
So much mowing, so much weeding, so much feeding of green refuse to the chooks.
I decided I was totally sick of the abelia. It’s never done well where it is and to be honest I don’t even like them, so out it came. That part of the lawn looks much better now.
I found some jonquils hiding under the hawthorn and some more near the bird bath. They are overlooked where they are, so out they came and into another spot where they can be seen. I’ve got a lovely crop of stinging nettle coming up under the pine tree. I’ll have a go at it this coming weekend.
Chooks locked up, horse rugged, animals fed.
Then inside, fire lit and time for some reading.
It was a good weekend and I finished it feeling I’d done something worthwhile.