The other day Bosswoman asked me if I’d seen the dog in the Parrotia tree. I naturally thought she had over-dosed on the wine gums again and smiled sweetly. Bossman had apparently pointed it out to her and she promised to enlighten me at a later date. I remembered this conversation the next day and thought I would have a look for myself, whilst no one was about to think I was also unhinged. Lo and behold there he was, the dog in the tree. How could I have doubted you, Bosswoman?
All alone in the garden today, which is very rare; didn’t speak to a soul all day except the birds and myself. After a chilly but frost free start it turned into a beautiful proto spring day. I didn’t fall over, bang my shin or lose anything, trugs stayed where they belonged, there was no bramble attack. I remembered to take all the tools I needed to where I was working and also to bring them all back. The Heritage tomatoes have germinated, as have Dahlia “Red Skin Mix”. I saw goldfinches and long-tailed tits. I sang along to Buddy Holly and Kirsty McColl whilst sowing Nicotiana langsdorffii. It was all pretty perfect really.