Perking Up

What a marvellous day it's been. I worked solidly in the garden until hunger drove me in at 7pm to forage for food. Sadly I'm not yet out of holiday mode and though the freezer had goodies in it the fridge did not. Hugo and I shot into Framlingham for a takeaway Indian, not bad value at £12.30 and it always lasts for two nights. Eating too quickly I nearly choked on a grain of rice. With four hours of Nick's help this morning I finally got the bottom of the garden weeded, mainly, and raked, ish. I've now got to plant ground cover urgently before the nasty weeds resurface or return. For the first time this year I feel as if the back garden is under some sort of control, and now I can sow seeds and plant out my dahlias when they are far advanced enough in their pots in the summerhouse. I'm not lifting them for the winter in future, it's too much effort and too damaging to the tubers. Once I've decided their permanent positions they can stay put and just man up to survive the cold. The lawn is looking lovely, and all the edges are cut which leaves a great finish. I wish I'd taken some pictures today when the sun was out.

The front garden is a different matter. Where all is calm and neat out the back, the other side is chaotic. In just the one week I was away everything has sprouted, plants and weeds both, and amongst the beauties are lurking plenty of evils which will need to come out. I don't know what happened to the friable soil that I boasted about not a few weeks ago. It's rock hard now, and almost impossible to penetrate. No more May holidays for me.

Hugo has been more settled today, though the adventure we had this morning might have put him off walking. There's a wonderful track just opposite the church, neatly mown now and very inviting, and although I was told by a farmer a few years ago that it is not a public footpath, I generally ignore him. What harm? Hugo hasn't been down it yet, and this morning I couldn't resist it. He was very excited, knowing there were hares at the end of it, and sure enough a very orangy one popped onto the track ahead of us nearly causing the dog to have apoplexy. He bayed, he let out a bark, he said Let me go! This is what I do! I hung on grimly and he didn't pull, but he danced along on fairy feet eager to do his stuff. The hare disappeared and we skirted the next few fields until we came to a small wood. An enticing looking path led into the trees, and we decided to follow it. Mistake. After a few hundred yards of having to crouch lower and lower and struggle through dense bushes and trees, we came to a very deep ditch with no visible path on the other side. I hate to turn back when I'm so close to freedom, but Hugo wasn't at all happy so we retraced out footsteps. We took another route and ended up just inside a field beside our long lane. But another deep ditch obstructed our easy passage. Gingerly I edged towards it, Hugo on the lead behind me being told to Wait! Wait!, and with one bound I was over, with him following close behind. What a relief. I was beginning to feel like a very reckless mother.

This is nice Mummy

Only three muddy feet, I've kept one on the grass.

He's asleep now, a very early-to-bed boy. I can't believe he's so tired since he spent most of the afternoon on my Guernsey on the lawn, spark out. I didn't mind the appropriation, but he might have wiped his feet first. When I gathered it up to wear it to the Indian I saw it was covered in dried mud. What a cheek!