This is the front of the house (yup, ‘I love what you did with the front of it in the 1970’s darling’) however the glorious roses make up for the entombed timber frame.
This is just outside the front door where I linger during the morning, a variety of gardening tools in my hands in case anyone should spot me, then suddenly I become a hive of activity, arms brandishing cutting implements and greenery flying everywhere.
One day this will all be a fabulous parterre garden but I want to incorporate the existing apple trees and roses which requires serious mathematical equations and just typing the word equation makes my brain start singing loudly so that I can’t think clearly.
I actually cannot wait for the weather to warm up and to be able to sit in the garden…sorry…do lots more gardening…
The Garden taken by me perilously leaning out of the upstairs window with a cheeky hint of thatch.
A small tear rolls down my cheek as I gaze at last year’s Wisteria. My husband decided to take a proactive role in the garden earlier this month and really went to town on the poor creature. I am not entirely sure that there will be any flowers this year…sob…it’s fine…it’s just flowers….more tears…I’m ok…stoic smile.
Somewhere in this obviously meticulously planned rose bed are two little temperamental pear trees. Last year they gave up 9 pears but this year there are plenty of blossoms so I have high hopes for pickled pears!