Picking, picking...

The rain has stopped and I'm out in the garden picking, not just fruit and veg but also bugs off the asparagus and lily leaves. We are eating well - possibly a little too well, but fresh produce is hard to resist!

I had been bemoaning the absence of flowers on the peas but all of a sudden they have arrived, unfortunately along with a strong wind that has blown the tops of the plants over. I'll have to wait and see if it hampers the crop developing.

The flowers are pretty.

The patch of earth in the brassica bed, set aside for me to plant out the swede seedlings, has been taken over by poppies. I haven't the heart to pull them up. They've grown tall enough to get in the way of the washing on my line!

(Why is it that the wind hasn't knocked THEM over?!)

The deer scarer is in place.

CDs dangle from the gloves and spin round catching the light. (I can't complain about the performance of LandsEnd shirts, this one has been on the scarecrow for several years now and is still going strong. Although it could do with a wash.)

Everything is looking very lush.

Roses climbing up the wall of the former game store.

And good weather promised for the weekend. 

Skywatch Friday

Good morning skywatchers, today dawns bright and dry.  Here's an example for you of English understatement - we've had a bit of rain. Drenching stuff, in fact. The weeds have loved it! But, as you can see from the photo, today promises well.

When the garden furniture dries we may even get to sit out!

There is a regular visitor to the orchard,

nibbling at the roses on the fence, taking a look to see if its worth jumping over. Don't even think it, you beautiful creature, I know you'll create havoc if you get into my veg patch.

One of our neighbours is pursuing a burnt earth approach to his property, cutting and digging away at his hedges and shearing his land hard back. "What about the habitat for wild life?" I keep asking him. He waves his hand dismissively at the adjoining fields and woodland and tells me that there's plenty of that out there. So we are attempting to counteract his actions by doing less mowing on our own patch, just making a few pathways to and fro beneath the fruit trees.

June is usually a glorious time in the garden but this year the weather has given it a bit of a battering. Some of the roses cope far better than others with wet and wind.

Nothing upsets Charles de Mills - he's quite a thug.

     Paul's Himalayan Musk is romping away on the border 

and we are eating new potatoes and plentiful artichokes.

But the climbing French beans are doing NOTHING

and the peas are reaching skywards but with little flower on display. Sunshine is badly needed.

My white flowers, foxgloves, lupins and campanulas are all thriving. 

It's a good year for two of my favourite colours in the garden, white and blue, although, can you see, one or two spears of pink have grown from my seed of 'gallery white' lupins!

Hope the weekend brings you just the weather you want.

Joining Friday Skywatch for skies all around the world.

The British at play!

On Saturday it was the annual music festival at our local hotel. We sat in the greenhouse with a cup of morning coffee as the rain hammered down, listening to the techies testing  the sound system. We had our tickets for the event. Should we go? Not unless the rain stops, we decided.
Well, for a while it did, so here I am in standard festival-going attire of large oilskin coat with a warm  cashmere cardi underneath and wellies. (Oilskin hat crammed in pocket, another necessary item of clothing for our June weather.)

In spite of the weather there was an excellent turn-out.

For a  little while the sun shone

and brollies were discarded.

There wasn't much dressing to impress this year, just a few brave souls had made an effort and abandoned anoraks for a bit of festival style.

  

Most of us were ready to embrace the downpours.

There's a reason the countryside looks so green!

It was a bit slippy underfoot.

The true festival-going experience?

A good coating of mud!

Lindian Village garden

We arrived at our hotel in Rhodes late at night and a buggy took us, together with our suitcases, along narrow pathways and over bridges with little idea of what was around us. Our room was pleasant, comfortable armchairs and an arrangement of dried rose petals decorating the bed. 

We were too late for the evening meal but a knock on our door heralded the arrival of a young waiter with supper on a tray. When this happens we know that we have made a good choice of hotel.

It was a pleasure next morning to discover the balcony, bathed in sunshine and with a good degree of privacy.

But the thing that impressed me most was the care taken throughout the hotel gardens. Here are photos of our room as seen from the ground

  

and our access steps.

Everywhere was beautifully and creatively tended.

Plants had been trained to provide a canopy of dappled shade, lovely routes to take on walks to and from the beach.

  

A re-pumped stream ran through the centre of the complex creating movement and the gentle sound of trickling water.

I especially liked this little corner where flowers were planted en masse to give the feel of a wild flower meadow.

I kept walking by as the light changed direction to take another photo!

Planting motifs were repeated throughout the gardens

as were architectural details.

As suggested by its name, the hotel is designed to resemble a village.

Hohlaki, the pebble mosaics that we had seen in Lindos, decorated entranceways.

It was a lovely place to be.