My fallback idea for a birthday present literally went down like a ton of bricks – or should I say cobbles. I had arranged flights too and from Belfast for H to spend her birthday with daughter and grandson Jackson. But – the best laid plans o’ mice and men gan aft aglae. Jackson went down with chickenpox didn’t he – so we thought it safer for grannie to stay home.
With no refund due on the cheapskate flights my fallback pressie involved a deal of sweat but minimum financial outlay —
The York sink which we found dying under weeds and full of toads now forms part of the rockery and has been planted with a hosta. The rocks I dug out of the ‘lawn’- for which my new lawn mower will be very grateful next year. Helen gathered the small grasses – sedums – heather’s and mosses plus some creeping no-name thingies during her ramblings around the island so again – outlay miniscule.
The dead leaves which lie in drifts around the house came free from one of our trees and the bare branches allowed us to see our own ‘Hootie Owl’ last night as he hooted his wee heart out all night long. Up there in the topmost branches outside our bedroom window- so proud to be a little Hootie Owl singing his pitch-perfect song in the clear-as-day moonlight —
The standing stone may be construed as a pagan symbol by some – a basic time piece when the sun shines by others but really it can be anything anyone wants it to be.
Next spring – all being well – the area around it will be a-bloom with a profusion of wild flowers —
Now for the piece de resistance that for some unfathomable reason has earned me the most ‘Brownie Points’. The cobbled path from the side door to the garden roughly paved with slate stones from the foreshore – ragged edges worn smooth from being pounded by breaking waves for the past hundred years.
No two grey stones the same – each one studded with gleaming iron pyrites – or ‘Fool’s Gold’ – to glisten in the rain which I am sure will be along some day soon —
The stones are bedded in the slate soil of the garden and Helen plans to weave her growing mosses – lichens – sedums and camomile plants over and around them. The camomiles in particular give off a pleasant aroma when crushed underfoot.
And – to finish – a ‘grey-cloud’ sunset from earlier this evening —
I have almost finished the path to nowhere and with all those brownie points in the bag what can possibly go wrong this ‘Birthday Weekend’ 🙂