Out of Control

That heading might suggest that this is a post about Sasha, but no. Ruth and I were at a concert at Snape the other evening, a trio of women in drab dresses and for some reason knee high boots singing Norwegian folk songs a Capella. Free tickets, so we took advantage. The voices were incredible, pitch perfect, no accompaniment, but the songs were a bit folksy, a bit dirgy and samey. During one which seemed to be made up almost entirely of Diddly Diddly Dums, I asked Ruth what she thought this was Norwegian for. "Three Little Maids From School Are We", she came back with immediately, and we dissolved with laughter. A while later she leaned over to whisper something to me, and I could tell straight away that she couldn't speak for laughing. Her shoulders were shaking, and that set me off. I had to move right away, luckily being on an aisle seat, and not look at her. But we were hysterical for at least three songs until we calmed down and she could speak: "Do you think the woman on the right has false arms?" she asked, and we were off again. Oh, it sounds silly now, but it was even sillier then.

I worked hard in the garden yesterday, spurred on by Val who told me we had to remove the weeds before they spread evil seeds everywhere. She put her back into one bed while I tackled the other, and we were triumphant at what we achieved. The vegetable bed will have to be covered with a weed suppressant until next spring, it now being too late to plant anything. The wild garden at the bottom, truly wild but not planned, will be brought under submission by Ash who is coming on Saturday. So that leaves the main bed, partly cleared by Val and then raked over again by me. I'm going to a few garden centres today to see about buying shrubs, and then I can start planning the design. A hot bed, it has to be because of the proximity of the hedge and its hungry roots. That means, as well as the shrubs, crocosmia, day lilies, maybe dahlias. Yellow and red and orange. I can't wait for it to happen now after the long delays. It's so hard to imagine