Brain freeze...

Bloody hell, over three months since my last blog, that's shameless that is. It's not like I've been overly busy, just lazy as far as this is concerned. Shocking really.

In the past three weeks I have been mainly up to my ankles in compost, digging it over and loading up wheel barrows full and transporting all round the four main gardens I work on. It's been a delight really, especially this week when it's actually been cold enough to be winter. However, I did give up on Monday afternoon, digging a vegetable plot in a blizzard (sort of), but back there tomorrow to finish it off.

Did I ever mention I like compost? Especially when I have made it - not literally of course, but from rotting leaves, grass cuttings and the like... 

It's been sooooo cold recently, but I have been able to keep up the work on the four major gardens in Berkhamsted (Pat's place), Quainton (Rebecca), Dancer's End Tring and Julie's at Buckland. And, just as a reminder, if only for myself, this is what they look like in nice weather!

Pat's place last Spring - remember Spring? Apparently it was
20 degrees warmer at this time last year

The kitchen view at Quainton. It looks very different this year, I've
managed to move even more plants into this bed and got rid of the arch,
it was intrusive and fell apart when I attempted to take it down! I
have moved 17 rose bushes from the driveway too - as soon as the
weather gets more conducive to nice photography I am going to take
new shots of the garden prior to a major re-vamp, ie getting the lawns back
from the builders!

Dancer's End House in Tring. This garden keeps me very trim (ish...) it's all hills and dales
and enormous. Been tidying all the beds recently after weeks of sorting out the compost and
chopping and trimming and pruning. Burnt a lot of stuff

...same at Buckland. Tidy, tidy, tidy... Dug over
the rockery around the pond in a vain attempt
at getting rid of the mare's tail. Watch this space!

Anyway, I aim to get back into regular blogging again. I think the weather has got to me in such a way as to freeze not only my fingers but also my brain.

Keep warm... Peace and love, Simon x

That was the weak that was

Strange how time flies, tempus fugit indeed. There I was thinking it's Tuesday and Friday clips me round the ear. I'm sure it's an age thing, time does kinda move quicker the older one gets - doesn't at all of course, just feels that way - but you get what I mean.


I sat here yesterday, Thursday, thinking "this week seems to be going on forever" and then it's Saturday and the cup final is a mere 16 hours away. I love football. It's hard to explain to someone who has no interest, but it matters even in today's money squelching, mock-celebrity ridden, puss-filled pile of shite, that is the Premier League/Champions League, etc. I can't even afford to go to Stamford Bridge any more. I used to go every home game and many away games too, but not now. In fact when Chelsea were shit I went for five or six seasons in the 70s hardly missing a game at all. Oh well, this evening at 5.15 we kick off against our nemesis team of recent times, Liverpool and the following picture is a living breathing hope of triumph...

Barcelona 24th April 2012 - a truly magnificent night that I wish me mum had seen...

Anyway, gardening, a mildly important part of my current life. Rebecca's on Tuesday and as I mentioned in the previous post, a rather nasty welcome on the top of the drive:

Rather large old Horse Chestnut sans rather large low branch.

It took me a good three hours to tidy up and chop the lost
limb into reasonable sizes. Then I thought a nice pile might
attract some wild life, so that's what I did, made a nice pile...

Top of the drive. I've been trying to tidy it up for a while and I'm slowly
getting there. Last week I trimmed the hedge that runs along the right
hand side as you look at it here. It's oddly planted with a very random
higgledy piggledy style and, although I do kind of like it, it genuinely needs
a bit of formality introducing - but not too much... 

Billy who was Tilly. He gets on top of the highest perching
point an belts out the a cockle-doodle-do something akin
to an 11 year old boy with a breaking voice. Bless!
PS: I have renamed him Billy Elvis, 'cos his comb looks
like a quiff

Today I cut the lawns at Glassmill House in Berkhamsted, unfortunately my "friend" from the other week failed to get annoyed with the noise from the strimmer and lawn mower. I shall persevere and hope that he tries to shut me up again. He truly was a delightful man and yet his issues came before him, about 30 seconds in all.


Quick cheeky pint in the Rising Sun, home via watching Finlay at cricket training and ahhhhhhhhh... Off to sleep!


zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

mmmm, Berkhamsted on a sunny Friday... Nice

Just a quick post today, yesterday was yet another good day, spent chopping, sawing, trimming and had the chainsaw out! I love my chainsaw - do you think that may be a subliminal thing, showing my personality up for the strange thing that it is or just a healthy outdoor pursuit?

Old guy lives in the first floor flat above

Chop, chop, saw, saw, so satisfying... Tremendous fun!

...and a quick pint of Riser in the Rising Sun at the end of a really satisfying week. NB: The Rising Sun is not just the best pub in Berkhamsted, it's the best in Hertfordshire, probably the best in the South of England!

Just a little note of irritation though. When I am using my chainsaw or any other petrol driven tool I not only wear ear protectors, I listen to the radio and obviously can't hear anything else. Bearing that in mind, why do old-ish people walk up to one and talk as though one can hear them? It is bizarre. Not once, not twice, but three time yesterday I had to stop, put down the chainsaw, take off the ear protectors and take out my ear phones and say, "Sorry, I didn't hear a word of that." 


I wouldn't mind but they don't even think to repeat what I obviously DIDN'T hear. Yesterday the worst one was an old guy who lived in the flat as shown in the top picture. The Conversation went:


"Muffled blah, blah blah blah blah."


I took about 10 seconds to get all the above gear off.


"(muffled) and it's great!"


"Sorry, I didn't hear a word of that."


"You should cut down those white trees."


(Those "white trees" are very beautiful white beech trees)


"No, won't be cutting them down, that would be a crime."


"Cuts out all the light, I say, cuts out all the light."


"I'm just cutting back the shrubs, NOT the trees."


"Cuts out all the light!"


"Well there's no way I'm cutting the trees down... Sorry I have to get on with my work."


He carried on talking as I put all my gear back on. I gave him the thumbs up and he carried on shouting for a bout another minute, even as I started to cut down the central 2/3 trunks of the sambucus - the large over grown shrub in the middle of the middle picture.


Bizarre...


Happy chopping!