A Tax rose is but a rose by any other name

Socialise and chat about other areas of your life
688 posts
P.P.S. What's a '502 Bad Gateway' message? That flashed up too, and I had to re-log in. Sounds like something that three-headed pooch, Cerabus (spell checker says Abuser) the gateway guardian to the underworld would say.

Cerabus: Sorry folks, computer says no. You're not allowed entry to death's anti-chamber.

Dead, but not dead (yet) souls: OH, what a shame! We'll just have to return to the land of the living then.

Cerabus: I';m afraid so. But please do try again later when our system is up and running again. All three of my heads do apologize for any inconvenience caused.

Dead, but not dead (yet) souls: Think nothing of it. Which way do we go to get back to the upper world?

Cerabus: Now you've got me there. Let me consult my Sat Nav.... Opps! That's down too. Fancy a game of dice to while away the time until I can rip your heads off?
P.P.P.S.
Cerabus (kind of.)

Image
Made a bit of a Greek mythology mistake with my so-called Cerabus. The emoticon I selected is in fact a Hydra. I never noticed the fourth head till now, but no excuses for not spotting it’s a dragon-like creature and not the hound from hell. I’m sure Robert Graves (he of ‘I Claudius’ fame and who wrote the most boring compilation book ever on Greek mythology) will forgive me for my mistake if not my book review!

Here’s a REAL Cerberus (spelt right this time). Truly the stuff of nightmares :ohmy:
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I was going to add a speech bubble for the middle pooch saying something like, “Bloody Hell; that tequila’s strong,” or something. But that didn’t seem fair on the artist who so loving created this image, so I didn’t. I think the image speaks for itself.

It’s battering with rain at the moment which bodes well for the Easter hols… not!
SM is by now in Wales staying with his parents for a long weekend. He popped by earlier today after he’d completed his outreach food run as he won’t be here on Bank Holiday Monday to do it.
I was in the middle of some serious wrestling with the remains of the back wall unknown tree roots. I’d already snapped two spades in my attempts to remove the blasted thing by the time SM made his appearance. I used SM as an excuse to have a fag/coffee break out of the drizzle and to show off my latest charity shop acquisitions purchased earlier in the day.

SM: Dear god in heaven! What on earth is THAT?

Me: Dunno, and neither did anyone else in the Age UK shop. I originally thought it was a studded dolphin cushion as it was so high up I couldn’t see it properly. When I got the lady to fetch some steps I found out it wasn’t a cushion… still bought it though. Cost me two squid.

SM: It’s a bit kitsch. What are you going to do with it?

Me: Dunno yet. I’m quite partial to be a bit of kitsch so I might put it in a frame and hang it in my flat’s bedroom. I’ll pretend those satin studded lattice things are a window on to the Med and, instead of counting sheep when I’m trying to sleep, I’ll count dolphins instead.

SM: Just one problem with that. If you’re trying to get to sleep it’ll be dark and you won’t be able to see it.

Me: Didn’t think of that. Maybe I’ll hang it in the bathroom. It does have an aquatic theme after all.

SM: Hmmm…. It’s made from cloth and will probably go mouldy from the bath’s steam.

Me: Blimey, you’re a right party pooper today…

The kitsch objet d’art which has caused so much confusion is a padded cloth picture of dolphins stretched over a square of plywood. It’s clearly, and lovingly, handmade; I particularly like the satin ribbons and studs. God alone knows what I’ll do with it, but I’ll think of something!
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One of the ladies in the shop was convinced it’s for keeping receipts safe and, to prove her point, shoved my receipt through one of the satin ribbons with a ‘I told you so’ flourish. Can’t see it myself as there are easier ways to keep receipts safe than entrusting them to cloth bottle-nosed dolphins. But it’s as good a use for the kitsch thingy as anything else, so why not?

Me: Anyway, apart from some other boring stuff, I bought a boyfriend for Shirley from the Cottage Hospital shop.

SM: This I have got to see. I had no idea the Cottage Hospital was into the slave trade.

Me: Don’t be silly, slavery’s been banned doncha know?

SM: You buy an imaginary boyfriend for an imaginary guardian angel and you have the cheek to call me silly!!!

Me: You’re always splitting hairs. No chance of knocking out this angel’s bird of prey with a snowball is there? Not too sure Shirley will approve of the slingshot and daggers as she/he/it is a bit of a pacifist.

SM: If Shirley’s a she/he/it then how do you know she/he/it will appreciate having a boyfriend?

Me: There you go again splitting hairs. I don’t know but it’s the thought that counts.

Shirley’s new boyfriend/companion. As you can see I've also started to tile my kitchenette today after nearly 4.5 years :whistle:
Angel Bayela or Arelan.jpg
Me: Right, no rest for the wicked off, and that sci-fi tree stump is seriously wicking me off. Better get on with it; it’s stopped drizzling now.

SM: This I have got to see. Are you sure you don't want any help.....

My back garden saga is beginning to feel like Ground Hog Day, but that’s for another post.

Chow for now X
Continued from yesterday:

SM: This I have got to see. Are you sure you don’t want any help? One down, two to go. Tree stumps can be murder to remove on your own. I wouldn’t like to tackle your Dr Who alien on my own.

Me: No thanks. This is strictly between me and it. A duel to the death… its death. Death to the Cratermass monster!

SM: I don’t recall any monster called Cratermass in Dr Who.

Me: That’s because there isn’t one. I’ve decided it’s not a Dr Who alien thingy after all. It’s much more like the plant alien from Cratermass; the film were the bloke’s arm becomes infected by the alien spaceship in the pit and slowly turns him into a walking/talking psycho tree, wielding his hairy tree stump arms as clubs battering people.

SM: I think you mean the black & white film Quatermass, not Cratermass.

Me: Do I? Oh well, easy enuff mistake to make. It did come from a crater after all. And besides I’ve practically dug a crater around my wannabe alien trying to get the blasted thing out, so Cratermass it is! Hey, that's an idea! Maybe I should blast it out?

SM: Heaven forbid that you be let loose with explosive ordinance. I'd stick to digging if I were you.

It took me several exhausting, back breaking hours of constant digging and wriggling/squiggling Cratermass backwards/forwards/side-to-side and cutting its many roots as I exposed them BEFORE it finally gave up the ghost. One up for the earthlingsImage

Cratermass being exposed, complete with one of the spades it broke (not my fault at all :whistle: ), crowbar, spade still standing but laying down on the job and various giant secateurs.
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Me wrestling with Cratermass, straining and huffin’ and a puffin’ away :pinch:
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Success at last! The damn thing is nearly as big as I am.
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As I mentioned in my previous post, as well as being Cratermass’s executioner yesterday, I decided to start tiling my kitchenette area too, and jumped between the two jobs all day long. It’s a small and simple enough job that I was supposed to finish off today, but it became a case of, “What’s behind the green door?”

Green doors notwithstanding, I’d finish it off tomorrow but I absolutely have to be in Liverpool by about 9am. No wriggling out of that one as I have a deadline to hit regarding my fight, on my own behalf this time, with my bête noir, the dreaded Scottish Power.
At this rate I’ll have that piffling tiling job finished by, say, Christmas.

Chow for now X

P.S. Now that you’ve seen my Cratermass, have a deko at the real imaginary thing. See the actual McCoy hanging from (I think) Westminster Abby and created from moss, twigs and a pair of gloves :blink:

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General Chit Chat appears to have been taken over by Love+917073949883Problem Solution Molvi Baba Ji, whoever, or whatever, that is? Had to scroll back 3 pages to find my thread. But no bot is getting the better of me. Hope CUK computer bods sort this pest out pronto.

My WB has been taking my dad over the water a lot this week to visit his sister who’s a bit poorly at the moment.
Also SM has been in Wales at his parents since Wednesday. SM is what Bowlingbun would call a ‘manager Carer’ for his parents. He lives approx 80 miles away from his parents so can’t care for them personally full-time but organises their care instead.
However, every now and then, stuff will crop up that requires his presence, hence he’s been spending a lot of time at his parents’ of late. Either that, or he’s got a Welsh mistress tucked away somewhere.
Being an adult, I decided to confront SM with my suspicions, politely but firmly, of course.

Me: If I find out you’ve being having it away on the sly with some Welsh slapper I’m getting me a toy boy using one of your credit cards too, and then I’m going to divorce you…. So there!

SM: May I point out that I more than have my hands full with you let alone a mistress and…

Me: What’s that supposed to mean….

SM: And may I further point out that before you can divorce someone you first have to be married to them. Talking of which…..

ARGGGH! That man drives me nuts sometimes. He somehow managed to switch a conversation from him having a bit on the side (or maybe I’m the bit on the side?) to a wedding planning session. How does he do that? Either he really does have a mistress, and is being very clever in his evasion tactics, or I’ve got the wrong end of the stick.


Either way, I’ve been free all this week to work on both my flatlet at dad’s and his garden, and I’ve been jumping between the two depending on the weather.
On Wednesday the weather was glorious, with the sun shining brightly and hardly any wind at all so I spent the whole day in the garden attempting to thrash it into shape.
Before WB and dad left to see his sis, dad slipped me a £20 note and told me to hit the local discount shop and Home & Bargain for some bedding plants.

Me: But I thought you’d ordered a load from your Stanley Morgan catalogue.

Dad: I tried, but they’ve totally sold out.

Me: I’ve heard of runs on banks but never on bedding plants… I’ll do what I can.

Later that day, I came across dad’s list of plants he’d wanted to order. 300 of them :o :o :o Jesus dear god in heaven’s name!
Unlike Mr G, who lived in a smallish house with an enormous back garden, we live in an enormous house with a smallish back garden. What the heck was I supposed to do with 300 plants?
The 300 Spartans may have fought, and won, against the Persian army of so-called Immortals, but we live in an English 2,018 AD suburb not the Straits of bleeding (quite literally in BC 480) Themopoylae for crying out loud!
Unlike the Spartans, I didn’t fancy my chances against a hoard of perennials, Persian or otherwise, as I am no King Leonidas. So I’m glad there was a run on them. Heartfelt thanks, Morgan & Stanley; you saved me from metaphorical death by a thousand cuttings.

So, armed with my £20 note, I sallied forth to shop till I dropped… I lurve spending other people’s money, so SM had better watch out :evil: IF he does have a floozy tucked away somewhere.
H & B had very few plants left; just a few sorry looking primulas which the greedy gits wanted £1.29 for…each? They could sod off at that price.
So I then hit the local independent discount store. As luck would have it, they were just marking down their primulas from 79p each to 50p, plus they were much healthier looking with a wider range of colours than the manky H & B ones.

I bought a load of them, all different colours, plus a load of Aubrieta (Audrey, red and purple to contrast with mum’s remaining blueish Aubrieta) plus several Bellis Perennis Tasso (nick-named Strawberries & Cream according to the labels) plus several Denticulata Blue (tall skinny plants with big fluffy flowers.)
But my pièce de résistance is a Camilla. Henrietta recommended these in Flo’s ‘Planting a Thought’ thread, so I grabbed one. I’m going to plant it in the de-nuded back wall rockery bit. I got a deep but bright pink one to contrast with mum’s very pale pink rambling rose. I thought my WB and dad had killed it when they blitz-kreiged the back garden, but it’s revived itself remarkably well.

On top of all that, I’ve got 60 summer flowering mixed Iris Hollandica bulbs to plant from Aldi (already sprouting so got to be planted out quick style) plus 20 purple & white Liatris also from Aldi and 40 mixed Butterfly Gladioli which came free with mum’s Blue Moon roses.
I’m also awaiting the arrival of a freebie pack of seeds for flowers that attract bees given to me by 38 Degrees, a campaigning website I’m forever signing petitions on. I’ve also been on a couple of their ‘Save the NHS’ campaign wotsits. The lazy buggers have yet to send them to me, despite requesting them over 3 weeks ago. Might have to email them demanding my free bee seeds.

Unfortunately, or fortunately as the case may be as I’m a bit knackered, it’s pouring with rain at the minute, so no gardening today…. YIPPY!

WB, IB and dad are currently off at some mate’s house to watch the Liverpool/Everton Darby. There’s supposed to be a barbeque too… good luck with that one in this rain. I’ll know the result by the expressions on their faces when they return. If smiling and happy then Liverpool won. If glowering and pissed off then Liverpool lost. If argumentative then it was a draw.

SM is STILL in North Wales until tomorrow evening. The sensible part of me says that he’s simply being a dutiful, caring son and that of all people I should understand how time-consuming caring duties can be.
The Green-eyed Monster bit is saying, “F...k that! The bastard’s having the time of his life with some over made-up, stocking wearing dyed by her own hand suicide blonde tart.”

Only one thing to do on a rainy Saturday with time on my hands, and a Green-eyed Monster to distract: Post some piccies on CUK.
Beats watching ‘Hedgehog Quilling’ on the box. I thought this was a documentary on hedgies, but it’s all about some antwacky form of embroidery? I suppose there’s a clue in the title of the channel, Create and Craft. Quite compelling actually, in its tedium.

A quick re-cap. The falling-to-pieces window boxes in back garden prior to being replaced and replanted. Photo taken June last year. Notice the magnificent Alum lillies on the RHS. We have over a 100 of these in both the back and front garden. They started off life from a solitary plant mum was given about 25 years ago. Every year, every late autumn, she’d delicately dig them up, delicately separate the tubers and replant in pots/in the ground. This year they’ve all turned to mush :cry: :cry: :cry:
Either WB’s and dad’s over-zealous pruning has killed them, or maybe some disease got to them? Have to wait and see if they revive themselves. I do hope so; they looked amazing.
Also, Anubis our guard dog, is due for a serious make over. I want to give him back his smooth black glossy coat (courtesy of a bit of sanding, Pollyfilla and Dulux) and glow-in-dark eyes back again. I also fancy painting his collar gold and sticking some glass gems on it, plus a solitary ear ring, as befits a wannabe ancient Egyptian god.
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Dad priming the new window boxes support structure I insisted on building using scrap wood laying around. Beats holding them up with old belts. Dad was having a good day so I set him to work as he likes to feel useful. No bending involved here (his knees are shot) and later, when the pink primer was dry, he painted the supports black. He was one happy bunny until the next day as he could barely move.
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The window boxes in place. I secured them to the trellis battens with 4 screws and washers each. No chance of those coming loose and falling off now!
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The Bellis Tasso things in the last window box aren’t actually planted yet, just resting there still in their tray.
Poor old Apollo in the background has been homeless since last summer. Must find him a permanent residence soon or he’ll have some Welfare Rights Officer on my back, probably SM. That would be a turn up for the books.
Also notice that mum’s Blue Moons in the black Milano planters are back in the back garden again. Dad didn’t want them in the front garden after all the hassle SM and me had transporting them there. So I’ve now got to move my terracotta planter one next to the new Clematis (which is growing great guns) and place the two black planter ones on either side of my French doors. Might do that this afternoon when the rain eases off.

I know I can post up to 3 photos WITHOUT one of them turning into an Attachment. I HATE THOSE ATTACHMENTS; they really get my goat for some reason.
So I’m going to try and post a 4th photo. IF it turns into a dreaded attachment, I’ll scrap the whole post (after copying it) and re-do it as two separate ones. Just noticed that the hedgehog quillers have finished strutting their stuff. Now they’re going on about tattered lace :-??? Nested beaded chains are essential apparently.

Window boxes planted. Just moved one of the Blue Moons (on my own) before taking this photo about 10 minutes ago.
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Right! Time now to see what happens with my anti-attachment experiment.

Well, according to the 'Preview' I can post 4 piccies as it's shown up as an actual photo NOT an attachment.
Time to see if that translates over when I hit 'Submit.'..... Chocks Away!
It worked.... no more pesky attachments. Now Create & Craft are wittering on about metal charms and true metal embellishments. I wonder what false metal embellishments are? Plastic, probably. Had enough of this, think I'll go for a walk as it's now, FINALLY, stopped raining.
When are you going to make this man your own? When's his next birthday? Can't you give him the surprise of his life by YOU dropping on one knee and asking him to marry you, as you've rejected all his advances so far?!?! I know, it's almost two years until I get another birthday on 29th February, when women can propose normally, but we really can't wait that long!!
You will never EVER in a million years find a man more loyal, kind and loving than SM.
I'll always be a romantic!!
Hear, hear BB well said
Saj, would you really want a man who wasn't good to his parents? I think not
Gardens looking lovely btw
Bowlingbun, you must be psychic. It’s SM’s birthday in approx 3 weeks time which, I’m thoroughly ashamed to say, I’d completely forgotten about until you reminded me via your above post.
I’ve also just this minute remembered it’s my well bro’s birthday in a weeks time. A bit rich of me considering the absurd fuss I recently made about my one…Oh well, nobody’s perfect!
And just what do you get the man who has everything? Especially when you’re a brassic carer.
Last year I took him white water rafting in Llangollen. He said he really enjoyed it but, to be honest, I think I got off on it far more than he did.
He may once have been a roughy-toughy macho soldier but I think those days are long behind him now.
Conversely, I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday break in Sherwood Forest but he definitely got off on all the personalised pampering and spa stuff more than I did. He likes his luxury & pampering does SM… the big girl’s blouse!
I was gutted that the Gorilla Day he’d arranged for us was cancelled due to the snow and high winds. This involves sliding down zip wires, etc, from the tree tops. Sounded brill to me, but SM did the worst, “Oh dear, how sad, never mind” impression of the Sargent Major from ‘It ain’t half Hot, Mum’ that I’ve ever heard. Gutted he was not!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4uivPpzCGo

So, BB, your suggestion is both timely and spot on. So I’ll do the normal thing and take him out for a meal and propose to him. There’s noways I can afford to take him out to one of his ‘favourite eateries’ so I’ll tell him to get really dressed up black tie and all that - as will I - and take him to SubWay in Liverpool. He likes SubWay sarnies.
We can then spend the night in my (by then) completely redecorated flat and test run my new bed. I’ll buy some of those Yankee candles he’s so fond of, line the bathroom with them, put some bubbly in the bath with champers (well Cava or Sekt anyway) on ice, and be his Geisha girl for the night. I think that will be more up his street than kayaking around Anglesey or something.
Cheers, BB; that’s SM’s birthday sorted.

MrsAverage, you’re absolutely right. If he ignored his parents I’d drop him like a hot brick. I’m just impatient to see him is all. I suppose I should learn to develop a bit of ‘mystery’ as my mum advised me to do on my 16th birthday. When I asked her what she meant she just looked at me mysteriously, so I was none the wiser. But whatever this mystery stuff is it keeps men on their toes, apparently. Sounds like a load of tosh to me, to be honest.

Also, MrsAverage, thanks for the compliment on my gardening efforts so far; much appreciated.

But alas and alack, tis but a shadow of its former verdant, luxuriant self (as Shirley would say) when mum was in full control of the garden.
This photo was taken in June 2014, mum’s last year when she had any interest in it. At this point her spirit was willing, but her flesh weak. After that summer, even her spirit slowly lost interest in everything, including her beloved garden.
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This is what it looks like now, despite all my efforts, but I haven’t finished yet. Photo was taken at 5.30pm this evening.
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I was supposed to go for a walk this afternoon but got gardening instead. Some days you can slog your guts out for hours on end and don’t appear to have done much. But today was one of those weird days when you only do a few hours of work, and hardly pushing it at that, yet you turn around and loads has been done.
I tackled the ‘dead corner’ as I call it. This area has become a dumping ground, and the soil from the raised rockery spills onto the concrete path turning it into a mud bath when it rains.
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Look at it now.
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That big black plastic chest is full of plant pots, etc. I’ve completely reorganised it, and the shelves next to it, and both now hold a lot more stuff which is also a lot more accessible too.
I also dug a trench out just behind the end of the hard standing and laid out old blocks and bricks in it as a retaining wall. I collared the blocks and bricks lying around in the garden, so I’m re-cycling too.
I’ve ended up with a whole wheelbarrow full of muddy soil and, to cap it all, the wheelbarrow’s solitary wheel has gone flat. I didn’t even realise wheelbarrow wheels had air in them. I assumed they were made of solid rubber. I’ve never repaired a puncture in a wheelbarrow before. Hopefully, it’s the same as a bike.

But that’s a job for tomorrow, as is cementing in the blocks (which weighed a ton) and bricks. Plus permanently securing the old trellising I put back today on the wall to train the rambling roses and Camilla on. My camellia looks a bit sad and lonely on the back wall. Maybe I’ll get another one to keep it company.

Last, but not least, tomorrow I’m also going to plant those blasted bulbs. I already know I can post 4 photos, now I’m going to push the boat out and see if I can post six.

Photo of my sprouting bulbs.
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Some of those sickly, whitish curved spike things are actually poking through its bag.
The thing is I don’t know if the white spikes are actually the beginning of the plants’ roots and should be planted with the spikes pointing downwards? Or maybe the beginning of the plants stalks and should therefore be planted upwards? If anybody reading this actually knows, please let me know. I don’t want to end up with Iris’s potentially working their way towards Australia.

Close-up of goldfinch for those who don’t know what they look like.
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Colourful little stunners, aren’t they. I’ve included the wrapping from my special goldfinch feeder in my pics as I’m about to reveal my plan to attract the elusive little blighters to our back garden.
I’ve NEVER seen one in our back garden in nearly 5 years. Yet the man down the road gets loads in his front garden despite all the passing foot traffic, etc.
A while back I cornered him and asked him what his secret was for attracting goldfinches. He told it was to have a feeder full of nothing but Niger seeds. The fussy little eaters are attracted to them like nothing on earth according to the goldfinch man.
I spent nearly a fiver on a bag of said seeds, and requisitioned one of the old bird feeders for them. In my hurry to see goldfinches I failed to notice that Niger seeds are tiny. Result: My gold dust expensive seeds poured out of the feeding holes like sand from a cracked egg timer.
Back to the goldfinch man again. You need a special holder for Niger seeds.
I ordered one from the local pet shop as H & B don’t do them, and neither do the Indi Discount shop. I’m not surprised as they’re bloody expensive. I bought the cheapest plastic one, and that was a fiver. The posh metal mesh ones are over a tenner.
So far, I’ve spent nearly 10 quid on the spoilt rotten little buggers and I’ve YET to see hide or hair (should that be feathers?) of them. If they don’t put in an appearance soon I’ll do more than accidentally snow ball them :pinch:

Chow for now as I have a heavy day tomorrow and, hopefully, seeing SM.

P.S. Liverpool drew with Everton. Liverpool put out a reserve team apparently, as they have some Manchester game coming up next week, and that’s why they only drew. Whatever you say, and makes you feel better, dad and brothers. I’ll believe you, 1000’s wouldn’t :whistle:
PRAISE BE TO ALL AND SUNDRY…..It worked :o
Yesterday, for the first time EVER, I saw goldfinches in our back garden – 3 of them together, 2 male, 1 female – clustered around my Niger seed bird holder… YIPPEE!

Image Image Image

They really are the most strikingly colourful of little birds; England’s equivalent to a midget parrot only minus the curved beak and squawking.
When they’re feeding bolt upright their black, white and red striped heads look like the flag of Yemen and various other Islamic countries, or the tricolour of New Zealand.
When feeding with their heads dipped down then their stripy heads resemble the flag of Imperial Germany or that of the Third Reich service flag of the Wehrmacht only minus the stylised eagle in the middle. Can’t imagine the Nazis using a goldfinch instead of an Imperial eagle, can you?
The white, yellow and black under & backside of their bods resemble the old flag of imperial Russia or of Barrancabermeja (try pronouncing THAT when you’re pissed!)
That’s the grown males; the females are much more restrained being dull shades of brown but very chic with their little black beret-like heads making them look very cute and French.
Goldfinches should be the mascot of the United Nations given that they’re living, breathing flying multi-cultural flags on two very skinny legs.

Also, yesterday, my 38 Degrees freebee bee seeds FINALLY turned up. I shall be using then in my bird sanctuary area.

Truly yesterday was a red letter day for me.

I’ve been working like a Stakhanovite on speed for approx a week solidly now in the back garden. My original intentions were simply to tidy it up a bit, plant a load of bulbs, etc I’ve been buying, sit back, let time do its bit and hope for the best.
Instead, I’ve practically ended up re-landscaping the back garden including, amongst other things: Building a retaining wall, rebuilding/repairing/adding to mum’s original stepped massive back wall rockery, creating a bird sanctuary at the end of it with a little pond and completely reorganising the ‘dead area’ and builder’s lean-to.
I’ve also rescued/repaired/refurbished dad’s old freestanding, plastic bird bath/feeder with the aid of a plant pot saucer and top from a broken lamp stand.
Plus I’ve rescued/refurbished two freestanding trellises for my honeysuckles, with the aid of two nursing Natterjack toads and a load of butterflies.
I can see now why mum was such a fan of putting a lot of garden plants in various sized pots as you can re-arrange at will. I’ve been doing an awful lot of re-arranging of late.
The upshot of all of the above is that I STILL haven’t made it over to Liverpool to carry on work in my flat there and not a single bulb or seed has been planted apart from a load of primulas (spell checker says premolars) mauve bobbly things and those Strawberries & Cream wotsits.

Today, all of that changes. Today is going to be a massive bulb/seed planting day and I’m DEFINITELY off to Liverpool tomorrow to my flat coming back Saturday evening. Or at least my mammoth planting session will commence when it stops raining.

Apart from 60 Irises, 40 gladiolli, 2 honeysuckle, a Camilla and other shrub thing and loads of Aubrieta to plant out I’ve also got 15 packets of ancient seeds to scatter willy nilly which dad found in a cupboard. God alone knows if they'll actually grow seeing as how they're so old. Only one way to find out... scatter 'em!
Plus these hanging basket seed things I bought for £1.39 each packet from H & B. They’re like round coffee filters with black bits impregnated in them (2 to a packet.)
The picture on the front looks amazing, but if these ‘all summer long Splendid Petunia Mix’ things are anything like the wild flower seeds I bought last year from H & B last year we’re going to have pretty skimpy hanging baskets this year as my so-called wild flower garden was a washout.
Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that.

My seeds to be planted today…. Famous last words :whistle:
various seeds.jpg
Finally, does anyone know if this plant below is a weed or not? If not, then what on earth is it?
weeds maybe, maybe not.jpg
Neither my dad, ill bro or SM have a clue. But going on the premise that I have red fingers for flowers, but green ones for weeds, all three reckon they're weeds as they're clearly thriving so much. Cheeky buggers!
My well bro thought they were carrots, and why not; as good a guess as any. But when I pulled a clump up there was no sign of carrots underneath.
Whatever it is, I really like it, and transplanted some to the bird sanctuary to edge the pond. I did this just before it got dark and it smelt wonderful; very herby. So maybe its some kind of herb?

SM: Still gardening at this time of night? You must really like your carrots to have such good night vision; I can barely see my hands in this light.

Me: Oddly enough, I just might be re-planting carrots. Or maybe some kind of herb? It tastes very pungent… bit bitter though.

SM: The only herb around here is you if you’ve been eating unknown plants. People have died doing that.

Me: Stop being such an old woman! I only chewed then a little and spat ‘em out.

SM: Good! It’s a bit much of you accusing me of being an old woman, and sexist too for an arch feminist. Old women used to be renowned for their knowledge of herbs and their uses and, might I add, their dangers too.

Me: You can add all you like but I didn’t actually eat the damned things… so up yours!

SM: You’re getting irritable so I know you must be hungry. Come on, call it a day, get showered and I’ll take you out for a meal where the herbs won’t poison you.

Me: Nice one! Can we go for a steak meal; I’m starving and could eat a horse.

SM: You can choose.

Me: Weatherspoon’s; it Tuesday’s Steak Day today… I’m ordering a mixed grill with….

SM: Tut, tut….From dedicated boycotter of ‘Spoon’s to avid fan, and all because of cheap cappuccinos.

Me: I wonder what these red berries on my whatchamacallit shrub taste like?

SM: Oh no you don’t….

Me: Only kidding! I know these are poisonous but the birds love ‘em apparently... that's why I got it.... cost a fiver.


The whatchamacallit plant is actually called a Cotoneaster ‘Coral Beauty’ (I've just looked that up on it's plastic label.) It’s in position, but still in its original plant pot. My excuse for not having already planted it properly by the ‘pond’ is that I’m acclimatising it.
Excuses or not, the sun’s trying to break out now and I’ve just noticed that the drizzle has stopped. SM dropped me off at dad's about 7.30am this morning, and I've been worse than a farmer since then, constantly checking the Met weather forecast for our area, gawping at the sky, etc. Time to now get planting. No rest for the wicked, and all that :evil:

P.S.

Also started on Anubis’s make-over, long overdue. Gave him a good scrub and sand down yesterday. He now has a shiny, newly painted black glossy coat. Later I’ll give him a gold bejewelled collar and glow in the dark red lined Ancient Egyptian-style eyes.
anubis 3.jpg
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