Saging and Potting

I miss my Dad when it comes to gardening. Not that he was a great gardener- far from it- he would pull out the flower plants and proudly leave the weeds. No he was in fact a champion picker upper. You could prune and throw any amount of rubbish onto the lawn and within a few minutes the detritus would disappear. Now it's all up to me which is why it all tends to lie on the lawn until the grass begins to turn yellow. Saturday I got stuck into the giant sage plants on the western side of the garden. They've bloomed wonderfully for months but have begun to look a bit worse for wear, rather like Britney Spears after a hard night out. I clipped them back and already they're beginning to spring back into life so maybe I'll get another flowering before winter. However their remains are calmly decomposing on the grass waiting for me to get my act together.

I have also been planting out pots. I've replaced my burgundy violas from the pots on the front table with fresh blue lobelia. A thyme plant I was given is now planted and gray succulents are hidden under the jasmine vine to try and protect them for coming frosts. The rest of the garden is a jungle but I am hoping the piles of rubbish lying on the lawn fool people into imagining that I will get around to weeding all the beds eventually.

The little black and yellow chick has recovered its mojo and is a lot happier now. I now let Sarah and the two older chicks out in the afternoons but Sarah has begun walking over to Gine's cage and attacking her through the wire. Yesterday they had a full out fight, flying at each other and trying to grab each other's head feathers rather like two women grabbing each others extensions during a slap down. Obviously while they're stuck looking after their babies in their adjacent cages they're both indulging in foul/fowl language.