Gardens and alligators

I don’t like alarm clocks. They scare me awake. And it’s just not right waking up with a gasp of fear each morning. Of course the BH sleeps right through it and only wakes when his tea arrives, which is kind of ironic on days like today when I didn’t have to get up. And then I have to face the kitchen and Kobi’s playpen, and I’m not even going to describe how un-funny that is each morning, before I’ve even had my cup of tea.

I don’t really mind these things – once I’m awake. But I could definitely do without them as the start to each day.

Having said that, I did have a couple of days without the alarm clock, and wonder of wonders, yesterday morning without beginning my day with a shock, I could remember my dream. And it was normal too! Well, as normal as one can suppose, not dreaming anyone else’s dreams. And whilst I’m wondering about normal, do the people in your life stay the same in your dreams? Because I don’t seem to dream about people I know, least not in their regular form. Take the one yesterday, I had weird parents, and I mean really weird, they dressed in Shakespearean garb and walked around golf courses with an entourage of thespians. I kept trying to talk to them, but they were always striding off to the next hole and could only manage a cheery wave, so I kept myself busy rescuing a baby frog and trying to stop Kobi annoying the alligator. Yep, Kobi managed a star performance as himself! But he’s not a person, and I’m not surprised he’s elbowed himself into my dreams and has me chasing about there too. It never stops in the waking hours. In fact just yesterday, when I was strimming the road side of the hedge, the stupid mutt decides to find me by pushing his way through the hedge and leaping onto to road. It may not be a busy road but the garden is a good four feet higher than the road, and so Kobi is again limping and on painkillers.

On the upside Kobi is behaving better. And I mean after Saturday when he ripped holes in everyone’s clothes except mine (well he’s not totally stupid!). We also watched Dog Borstal last night and we now posses a shock bottle, and it works just as well in real life as it does on the programme! Doesn’t he look pleased…

But back to the gardening. Having been working on the front garden for the past couple of weekends, it again looks near decent (almost good from a distance ;o)) and I kinda made a promise to one of you about posting some pictures – however – the BH will be less than amused with me, so they’ll only be up for a few days.

Here’s the side patch which meets the road:


We used to have a wonderful Willow down by the road and blocking any view of us (and which I really must replace!) but it came down in high winds the Christmas before last. Actually that was quite amusing, you see I heard it come down late one night, but when I looked about the dark garden I couldn’t see which tree had come down so figured it was one up in the Christmas tree field (we adjoin government property and they grow their own huge fir trees). The following day was a Sunday and we had a lazy start, but at about ten am the BH tells me to come look in the road and there we found our poor willow. Of course the road was totally blocked, but no one had thought to beep their horn or heaven forbid walk up the driveway and tell us, no, in fact a friend called later that day to say he’d hit his car on our wall when trying to turn around because of the blockage. Anyway back to the tree, I managed to get hold of some official and he came around and ummed and ahhed about closing the road (?!!), and just as I was telling him the road was little used and quiet, an old fifties car ambled around the bend. Then another. And another. In fact they didn’t stop as it was a car rally! I can laugh now, but I can only imagine how stupefied I looked at that moment.


But back to the garden. Here’s the lawn I’m always moaning about:
but this picture doesn’t capture it’s steepness!


And you have to remember on an itty-bitty island where space is scarce, our garden is classed as big. And it sure feels big when you’re the gardener. Which would leads me to post pictures of the back areas, but I’m ashamed to admit I can’t. Seriously, as the bloody garden is so over grown.

Having said that here’s some pictures of the paths leading up.


You can tell they’re paths because in the left picture you can see the rope handle (see? squint towards the left!), and in the second… well, you’ll have to trust me, but here are steps under there. Maybe later in the summer, when I've found some time, I'll post 'after' pictures too.

So you can see in truth, I do like my garden, it has so many pretty little hideaways,



I just wish it didn’t grow so fast so I could keep up and enjoy it properly!

--x--

Please note, we don't have alligators hiding in the garden here, or anywhere, and I have no idea why I was dreaming about them. If you can figure out something deep and meaningless, feel free ;o)