On Monday the rains come and drenched the land but high pressure has returned with the sunshine and normal paradise has been resumed. This lovely weather is really too good to be true!
The forget-me-nots that weave their way delightfully through the borders have come to an end and I spend quite some time pulling them out. Their grey seeds fall to the ground assuring they will return again. A wily old bind-weed makes its way up the stem of a prickly berberis and dares me to pull it out without getting snared by the thorns.
The aquilegias are going to seed and I cut them down now. They are the most promiscuous of plants and we do not want any of that sort of thing going on around here. This is John Wesley country after all. For the second time in a year a bee has made its way up my sleeve and stung me on the way out, the daft thing.
A couple of viburnum beetle have been found on two new plants and the Solomon’s Seal is being attacked by saw-fly larvae but I will write about this when I can process the photographs.
Some of you may know that I have been having computer problems. I use Photoshop Elements for my photographs and the weight of this software seemed too big for my dilapidated old laptop. I decided it was time for Biggles to come to my rescue.
Biggles has lived in the village for just about all his life and some say he has never left the county. But one day he got it into his head to go on holiday to Egypt after seeing a programme on television about pyramids. He talked about nothing else and we thought he was just daydreaming but then he announced down the pub that he had bought himself a ticket. We gave him a send-off party and wished him well.
Our intrepid explorer made his way to Gatwick airport only to discover that he had got his dates wrong. His flight had taken off three days earlier without him. He spent a day or two in the airport pub getting sozzled on his holiday money and then returned with a major hangover and a photograph of a rather pretty air-hostess. We have called him Biggles ever since.
He is rather a dab hand with the computers though. He pushed a few keys and declared that I had a memory problem. I told him that I knew that already and that it was on account of my growing years. He looked at me with that sympathetic look usually reserved for idiots. He told me I needed more Ram memory and with a few clicks of the buttons, and with the use of my bank-card, he had me one purchased and on its way in the post.
He asked me if I felt confident enough to insert the memory card. I assured him that I would feel more at home performing open-heart surgery on myself than opening up a computer. He gave me another one of those looks. He finished his tea and assured me that he would be back whenever the ‘whatever’ arrives.
Like most folk I have such an ambivalent regard for computers. I love the means of communicating and expressing my thoughts with others across the world and digital photography is a sheer delight. But when they break down or do not function well then I become frustrated and begin to remember the days when we did not even have electricity or running water and wonder if I have gained or lost something. This is an endless debate with no answer I guess.
I head up to the hills where I can breathe more easily and sit back and watch the peregrine falcons surfing the waves of the wind and then swooping down to catch their prey. This is where I belong. Now where did I put my camera?
PS if you have never heard of Biggles then please do google him! Well worth reading.