Before I go any further, this is a 'no smuts' blog. You'll see why in a minute.
Sensibles first. This is Head Gardener on the runway, our new answer to the underfoot tarpaulins which made puddles when everywhere else was dry, but kept the mud from being dragged into the caravans and office. (see photo below)
The tarps had done their service, but were looking decidedly tatty, so a temporary solution was found, and that was to lay some paving slabs and ex-floor tiles down on the ground to make a runway. And it works. We have kept our feet dry, all eight of them (2 of mine, 2 of HG, 4 of Bools) despite inclement weather this week, and there is also a lack of puddles around because the water can drain straight into the ground without getting walked on to produce a muddy slush. Good solution. Plus, and this is an unlooked for bonus, when we come out of the office at night, when it is dark and we have neglected to put the caravan lights on, the runway sort of stays lit-up so we can just about see where we are going rather than having to feel our way which was a bit hairy-scary sometimes. The poor old lemon tree got kicked on frequent occasions by mistake, and the glass covered cold frame was often nearly fallen into. The new runway has saved us, the lemon tree, and the seedlings in the cold frame.
Anyway, here is HG on inspection duties: having given me instructions for getting the tomatoes out front, he then went to virtually dance around with glee because the olive trees seem to be putting out growings which just might be actual olives. It's nice to see one's man happy!
Off down the road this afternoon in between a bout of showers, and I thought I would show you Pierre and Christian's jolly jumble of a garden.
This photo does not do it justice, but I liked the cheeky looking scarecrow in the centre. Now I don't know why it is standing there. P and C's garden doesn't really warrant such a suberb specimen, given that it is such a glorious jumble of assorted veggies and flowers. No straight lines here, no pristine rows of tidy veggies and well weeded flower beds. It is all as it comes, and is what I aspire to out front. This garden is my role model.
And so wot's this ere?
Any answers? Because we don't have the faintest clue. Well, certain subjects were mentioned on which I must stay discretely silent, but otherwise? Nope, not a clue.
So this thingummyjig arrived in my hands via my spade. Out digging yesterday, and 'Wot's this 'ere' I thought to myself as the pointy end sort of erupted out of the soil. At first I was smitten with dismay. Was it some devil's horn planted there by some Evil One decades ago? Was it a Secret Weapon against Good. Why was it planted in such a manner? What spell casting was associated with it? Oo-er! Megga bad vibes did I have, especially when another spade dig dragged up some bits of stuff which looked like rotted leather but were too far gone to decipher what they actually had been once upon a time. And then it rained. I dropped the pointy thing where I had found it. Indoors I went for the rest of the day.
So out for a dig I went this morning. There! It was still there! Oh crikey! But then a ray of sunshine popped its head through the clouds, and the pointy thing didn't seem quite so intimidating somehow. So I stooped over and picked it up. Did a sort of 'feel' of it. (No smuts! I did warn you at the start of this blog!) It has a sort of blackish paint effect on it, which might only be from the soil in which it has lain. And it is 'attached' to what looks like a piece of tile. I think it is made of clay as there are some curious indents in the top, which might be chips broken off it or artistic creativity.
So here it is. Should I put it away for safe keeping, and one day in the future, when I get to have shelves on which I can put ornaments and other dust-gathering bits and pieces, I could put this pointy thing on show as part of the history of Labartere. Which way up should I put it? Upwards, downwards, or sideways? And what would I say it was? And what if it actually did belong to some dark sect who had planted it for the sole purpose of causing mischief and mayhem. So, no, perhaps not in the house.
But it was dug up, and therefore could be classed as 'buried treasure'. Already I have found three horseshoes and two old keys. Now this,...mmm, thingy. I don't know what to call it.
Yes, I do! On having another hand-feel, upon planting the flat part at the bottom on the palm of my hand, and inverting my hand so the thingy pointed downwards, I have found its name and its new purpose! It is a Dibber! Yes, a Dibber! What is that? Well, its a tool for making holes in the soil when needing to plant young seedlings out so their vulnerable roots don't become damaged.
And I was having this very trouble the other day when it came to plant our first flush of seedlings out. I tried using my knitting needle but that made too small a hole, so I had to 'borrow' HG's screwdriver. So, I am thinking that the Universe was watching over my shoulder and recognised that I was needing an implement to help me out. And hey presto! A day or so later, I dig up this ready-made tool!
Oh, singing joyfully as she goes, Under Gardener is now off to try out her new Dibber.
Things I have learnt today: When one chances upon an unlikely looking artifact, do not panic. There are reasons why it has come one's way. So stay cool. Let it sit in one's hand. And then one will become aware of a usefulness for it, which is likely to be different to one's original thoughts.
Blessings to you this day.