Well, I wasn’t expecting that

Clearly at some point Mrs. MacMillan, the Scottish widow who lived here before us, attempted to turn the space out front into an actual bed. After clearing the moss off this morning and starting to dig into the ground, I discovered it was probably no more than 40% rocks – possibly less.

So getting the second rhodo planted did not turn out to be the ordeal I anticipated.

As you can see and as promised by Rhodo Dave, there will be at least two flowers this year.

Even more exciting is the fact that it wouldn’t be too difficult to turn the surrounding area into a bed of something.

Obviously there’s still a lot of work to do, but really not too hard. Now what, other than daffs, don’t deer eat? Hmm. They don’t seem to eat heather and they definitely don’t eat lavender, so lots of potential. Watch this space.

Meanwhile, at the back of the house…

…one of the existing rhodos burst into bloom overnight.

Two flowers. That’s right: two. Last year I got three. What the hell? I’m feeding the damn thing, am I not? And yet we seem to be going backwards. Argh. (I did think there were going to be at least twenty flowers this year until Rhodo Dave came over to remind how to “candle” the plant. This involves nipping off all the things that look like buds but are actually new leaves.)

He wasn’t sure about the later-blooming one, so we left it for the time being. The time seems to have come and gone.

What I’m now seeing looks like nothing but new leaves. Not a bloomin’ bloom anywhere in sight. Zero. Nada. Zilch. Down from at least five last year. Seriously, what the fuck?

I can’t remember which one I called Bert and which one I called Ernie, but I’ve gone right off this one.

On a brighter note: The strawberries are starting to flower and the lettuce and rocket are starting to sprout. Some gratification somewhere.