I arrived back at Gerolstein in late September. And it rained. And rained. Big, soggy puddles all over the place. Muddy paddocks. Slush. Please, please may we have some warmth and sunshine so that little things can grow?
It's now late November. And the sun is powering down. The two-week forecast says no rain in the next fortnight. Please, please may we have some cool and rain, so that little things can grow?
Who'd be a farmer?
But it's summer. It's the time to start the clean-up, and the planting ... so here we go. Off to the delicious country nursery 'Roses at Cust' to stock up the flower garden, replacing the plants chewed by the flock of 40 peacocks *thus, standard roses ONLY), drowned in the flooding, died inexplicably, and so forth.
|Roses at Cust|
|Loading up a few beauties|
But roses don't last forever and now there is just one of the originals left. So we've chosen to make it an informal garden instead. Just a few roses, here and there, with Ian's golden lilies, which have come back staunchly for eleven years, yellow irises, tropicannae, an azalea bushlet, lobeliae and so forth ...
|The veteran white and last year's 'Hamilton Gardens'|
|'Crimson Glory' originally bought for LITE GASP's first win|
|Into the ex-orchard|
|You are my honey-honeysuckle...|
|I had a little nut tree ...|
Next it will be Wendy's gardens ...
2017 is a turn-around year for Gerolstein! And the peacock menace has been averted somewhat. Last week, Wendy and Nigel tricked eight peahens and one young cock into a closed horse float, and down the drive they bumped off to a new life somewhere ... anywhere! ... else.
|Hoppy knocks on the door for his feed|
Well girls and guys, the Big Bad Horsefloat is coming back tomorrow. So let's see what the totals are at eventide. I can see another half-dozen overworked girls rushing for it!
|Last year's tree-toppings ... wow! heat!|