Right. To Write.

About Tomorrow. Food Bank Day. The highlight of my week. How pathetic is that?

Around one hundred and fifty bulbs planted in the last two weeks which saw a bill of in accesses of 60 Euros. Was I daft or what? But I hadn’t bought a single Crocus in many a long year, so they were getting a bit sparse.

I have a passion for the Blue and White streaky ones, so I was feeling a bit deprive. But this coming Spring will give me back my glory. And then for a while yet.

What on earth am I talking about? Who cares?

And then to The Chrysanthemums. Seed Pods that I didn’t even know they had. I can be a bit thick sometimes. I begin to suspect that I am not really a gardener. Beyond machinery like Stimmers and Lawn Mowers. And making gardens behave themselves.

Such a pity it doesn’t work with O’Connor. I now have a massive crater in the middle of my now horrible lawn. The biggest hole he has ever dug. And then I laughed when he came indoors and peed on the floor. Definitely not something quite right going on around here.

But he can’t dig up the pots or even pee on them. Game, set and match to me.

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