Garden Talk
Dem bones. I stayed up way too late last night and surfed with saddo zeal amongst the gardening blogs. Take back saddo. Read, laughed, imbibed, learnt and went a little boss eyed. Got just a little hooked. Quite a few gardeners are posting fabulous images of their garden bones now that winter has taken away the perennial coffee froth.
In particular I was a virtual and envious visitor to the blog of Toni of Signature Gardens. Paving ordered and immaculate, roundy mounds all kept compact. A touch of the Zen garden prevails in this wonderful spruce space. My garden is light years away from this level of horticultural excellence.
But I too have been revealing the garden skeleton. Laying it bare bone by picked over bone and it is not a happy sight. Our little urban garden was perfect. Hazel coppice made a mini wood sprinkled with fritillaries and forget me nots. We moved in in April and watched the primulas and bulbs come out. In summer the brambles and ivy revved into gear and we realised that we were one step away from wielding machetes to hack through the undergrowth.
What to do? Hacksaw right down to the bones. And so our view from the kitchen window has changed from this to this.
and the secret passage behind the house no longer is. But at least it is a temporary run for the new puppy.
It gets worse and worse - surrounded by bundles of branches and ivy limbs, we have stripped away all romance and secrecy. The garden is awash with brushwood waiting for a south wind. Anyone can peer in right now and the first marauding dog arrived at lunchtime today. Bones are here but not for it.
Surely we will turn a corner soon. 
