Monday, 9 May 2011


There's been a storm of activity in the rainless month of April leading into the partially inundated month of May. Extra special mention must go to Sir Cakeatonne's YOGHURT DANCE which for reasons of modesty and decorum cannot be revealed in video format. Cakeatonne, whilst well versed in swinging his hips and bashing a yoghurt pot, singly refuses to do repeat performances. A great shame! Razy could take some tips from him...

Nature has gone crazy. The purple sensations have flowered; st
atic firework explosions of purple that give off a nice STINK. I have discovered a peony under the ivy bush which I've now moved to the bottom section of the garden, in it's very own cage. The French marigolds have started to flower only to be colonised by a hundred miniature black and yellow spiders. Wicked! We have our first newt in the pond, called? Yes you guessed it: Sir Isaac Newton. I don't care if it's a female.

The first of the sunflowers which I've been growing since February has flowered. The Italian whites are doing well, and the teddy bears have started to emerge in the chimney next to the creeping geranium. Watch this space for more.

Lilies are growing fast, particularly the ones in the pots, as are the Persian buttercups. The hostas are growing at a beautiful rate. I recently acquired the hadspen variety, which goes a really intense cobalt blue. Looking forward to seeing those little bad boys in all their glory.

I have sown my African daisies, meadow flowers and cosmos, though there are few signs of emergence at present. More positive is the growth of echinacea and coleus in the studio. However there is little to no sign of anything happening with the Himalayan blue poppies. I'm not giving up!

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On the allotment, the recent frost scorched everyone's potatoes, and killed most or all of the beans/peas. After the great, scorching weather we've had for the last few weeks, you'd think the risk of frost would be minimal. But no! Old Jack has still got a foot in the door. Time to smash his toes in! That is if I don't catch the pesky kids who keep coming onto our plot sing-screaming BA BA BLACK SHEEP, smash them into a pie and eat them with a side serving of Cakeatonne's pedigree kedgeree in the dome.

First I have to get the cure for this accursed builders bum!

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