Dreams, various, a job lot

Friday March 25, 2005

The weather wasn’t as good as promised but it was mild and still enough to spend large chunks of time in the garden, so I have had my gentle exercise and fresh air. I feel a lot better for it.

My task was to clean and spruce up the raised border along the side of the driveway opposite the kitchen and third bedroom windows. It’s a nice traditional mixed perennial border, stuffed with flowers and green things, mostly small. The previous owners had two small dogs and treated this area as a dog run, so it was much flattened and stale when we moved in. I got about half way along the thirty feet before having to give up for the day, all in five minutes work, five minutes rest mode. The result is pleasing and, with the addition of a few bright bedding plants in patches here and there, is going to look attractive and welcoming.

Graham took on the task of cleaning and digging the larger border at the rear of the back garden, doing a sterling job of clearing the ground between the low shrubby things, ready for yet more colourful bedding plants.

All in all, we done good, and we’re looking forward to the next dry day so we can finish the job. Sadly, tomorrow is forecast to be wet, as is the day after, and now, late in the evening, I can hear gentle rain outside.

Other than that, a pleasant, quiet day. I picked up my brushes again for a short session, and created a new listing on eBay for our spare lava lamp. And, throughout, we were chatting happily away about the cottage life-style. I’m glad to be talking about it even if, in the end, we talk ourselves quite out of it and focus our attention on London once more. It’s good to talk.

And, finally, I sat back in my study chair while Graham was watching a late TV showing of Farscape and I thought of cottages I’ve known, cottages I’ve seen, and cottages that don’t exist anywhere outside of my head. I have a number of ideas for larger-scale watercolour paintings when I get the space and time. Meantime, well, a chap can dream, can’t he?

 


Watercolour on card, actual size, Stickford, Mar 25,'05
‘Postcards from my head’ No. 10
Dreaming of cottages


 

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