Do you remember wet Sundays?

More than sixty years on and I can still remember being bored and miserable, nose pressed to the window, watching the rain pelting down on a day when we should have been free to ‘play out’. It feels the same today!

I can just make out a bedraggled Wood Pigeon stripping the berries off the Pyrocanthus. A couple of them sit right outside the front window where the pyrocatha hedge is eye level, nervously watching us as the peck off a berry or two.

It has rained solidly for the last two days, too wet to go birding, and even too wet to do anything in the garden. If I want some green life I’ll have to look at the indoor plants and the wet world beyond.

Mind you, the kitchen windowsill is nicest with an orchid given to Maggie as a present three years ago which keeps coming into flower.

I can take no credit for this, Maggie is the head indoor gardener. When the orchid became infested with mealy bugs she brought it back by picking them off for months then re-potting it having sterilised the orchid compost.

The other houseplants survive because of her loving care, although the most onerous task is my job, watering the cacti once a month.


Rant it out!
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