Raining Cats and Ducks

Oh me poor pansies!

Dahlings, as those of you in the UK know only too well, it has been raining and raining here.  A Lot.
We had the highest rainfall in April since records began in 1068* and May is no less damp.

Do you remember Miss Smilla's Feeling For Snow, where it mentions that the Inuits have numerous distinct words for different kinds of snow?




I wonder whether we shouldn't come up with similar, for rain.  How about:

•  piffdown
•  damplateral
•  drenchlette
•  moistler
•  blurge

No, I give up, it's too depressing.  What do you suggest? Bet you can come up with better! Come on Linda in Chile, you are brilliant at this kind of thing!

All this rain is confusing the local flora and fauna:  a temporary pond develops now and again on the road opposite our house and ducks have been swimming in it, happily oblivious to the schoolrun mothers in their 4x4s hurtling by.

The other day in a fit of "bad conscience" gardening I was hacking away at the overgrown shrubs outside our front door and found a nest, with big white eggs in it. The next day I peered in at the nest to find a Mama Duck peering out at me.

Mama

I must admit to feeling rather anxious about it all - I checked up the old interweb (ha, ha) : Mr Mallard leaves Mrs Mallard once she is sitting on the eggs and goes off to find a new mate.  I just knew he was a cad and a bounder, with his green silken cravat, very flash. 




Cad and bounder

So poor single mother, coping all on her own.  She has to sit there for 28 days, and she is very steadfast, I have only seen the nest left once...(in fact I was a bit upset, I thought she had abandoned the nest and there was no sign of the eggs - does anyone know if she would have buried the eggs deep within the nest?? or do I have a tragic phantom egg situation?)

My biggest worry is what will happen when/if the eggs hatch.  She needs to get the ducklings to water but there is no pond nearby at all...surely she can't have been fooled by the temporary road puddle??

Anyone out there who can advise - that would be most welcome.  From my research it seems one either interferes completely or leaves it alone and lets nature take its course - I am going for the latter, as I am sure Mama Duck knows better than me how to look after her offspring..

Anyway, I am hoping to hear the patter of tiny webbed feet soon.
I'll keep you posted.




*ok, I completely made that up. But it's my blog, so there.

View From My Kitchen Window

 A while ago Hostess invited other bloggers to post the view from their kitchen window.

I  like to get in on these things. So here is my view.

Complete with one of those cute but annoying muntjac deer.

Annoying, first because I can never remember how to spell their name, secondly because they chomp off bits of plants - they neatly decapitated my hostas, thank you very much.  Also late at night they sometimes go in for this weird barking to each other, sounds like a hacking cough, possibly a mating call, most unattractive to me (but then I am not a deer, or a smoker).


And this was the view from my kitchen window yesterday.

Grandma Whacker gambolling about,  trying to fly a kite.  What is she like? It was lunchtime and I was calling all children to the table and there she is, still outside playing.  She really is most wayward and Sets a Very Bad Example. She never got the memo that Grandmas should sit quietly inside reading an old copy of the Radio Times while having a little drop of sherry.

Must go. Some one needs untangling.

Droopy Peonies

We are currently suffering from a nasty case of droopy peonies here at Blighty HQ.

Perhaps I should re-phrase that: my peonies have gone all floppy.  Look.

I must admit I am not really a gardener.  I find it annoying: things won't grow where they are supposed to, and then pop up where they are not meant to be.

And you do a couple of hours weeding, and bingo, you need to do it all over again before you've even had time to get the dirt out from under your fingernails.

Guerrilla pansies, surviving against all odds

No idea what this is but I haven't killed it yet

And the grass. In the summer months it needs mowing every week. This gives rise to the Blighty HQ mowing ritual:
Mr Blighty: I really ought to mow the lawn this weekend.
Mrs Blighty: (pausing briefly to remove her head from her crisp packet) Yes dear.
Mr Blighty: But it might rain. 
Mrs Blighty: It's not raining right now.
Mr Blighty: It looks like there could be a light drizzle.
Mrs Blighty: No, that's just bits of crisp hitting the windows.
Mr Blighty: I haven't really got time to do it now, it's almost lunchtime.
Mrs Blighty: I think you can just about get it done before lunch, dear, it's only 10.15.
Mr Blighty: Well, if it's ok with you, I'll go and do the lawn then.
Mrs Blighty (settling down with the newspaper) Yes dear, what a marvellous idea, DEAR.
Exit Mr Blighty in direction of garden shed.
4 minutes later Mr Blighty re-enters kitchen.
Mr Blighty: Slight problem - I've just realised that Toad is in the Ascendant with a Half Crescent Bagel, while the outlying Moons of Bathmat are orbiting the...
Mrs Blighty: JUST MOW THE BLOODY LAWN!.....
Mr Blighty (in hurt tone): I was just trying to explain that the mower won't start...

I know what this is, it's a...wait a minute, I know this one...

The other thing about gardening is that Grandma Whacker is always being encouraging about it:
Phone rings, it's Grandma.
Grandma: Shall I bring you some rulywumpos and some climbing fingbottles for the terrace? I won't if you don't want me to.
Mrs B: (thinking to herself: Christ, that's the last thing I need) Oh Mummy, how lovely but no thank you, I don't think I'll bother this year, they didn't do very well last year.
Grandma:  Are you sure?  They would look so jolly in pots.

Very bad photos of a muntjac deer in our front garden ( and lovely shot of our bins too).  Muntjac are originally from Asia and started off in a zoo at Wooburn Abbey in the 1900s, escaped and then spread all over the place; they are called ASBO Bambis  - (Anti Social Behaviour Orders given to delinquents)  - they look cute but are very destructive, eating plants, saplings, and they make odd barking noises particularly late at night

Mrs B: Yes, it's not worth it, last year I completely forgot to water them for 4 months which wasn't really a problem as the deer had already chewed off the shoots, and the Boys' Ultimate Tennis finished off what the deer missed, and then what with the slugs, the greenfly and the mixup with the watering can and the weedkiller...
 Grandma: I''ll bring them then...in fact I might get a few hundred more and bring in a lorryload of topsoil.

No idea what these are either but have vague memory of buying them in fit of Garden Centre Madness

 Anyway, I have hiked up my peonies with a stick and some twine.  (Made my eyes water a bit).

Wonder whether stick and twine would work on Mr B and the lawn mower?