More rail journeys

I managed to get outside yesterday, for some serious weeding, pruning back the rampant growth and trying to restore some order to the jungle that was once my front garden.  Foxgloves, grown from seed a couple of years ago grown so tall that they are bending over under the weight of flowers, but I am reluctant to do too much to support them, as I rather like the more natural look.  The flowers are a variety of shades, from cream through to deep pinks, and the bees love them.  I had thought about continuing in the garden this morning, but the sky is becoming ever darker, the atmosphere more humid and I am getting the pre-thunder headache, so it looks as if I will have to do some housework instead (ugh!).  Looking out at the back garden now, the perennials are continuing to reach skyward - taller than I have ever seen them, mostly greenery at the moment, with just a hint of colour, from the cranesbills and phlomis, and still plenty of white from the valerian and philadelphus, and a few remaining flowers on the hesperis.  I would say the most successful plant at the moment, in my garden, through the hedges across the road, and on the allotments is the dreaded goosegrass.  Pulling it out only encourages the sticky seeds to adhere to my clothing and gloves, its very means of success.  Next year it will appear in even more corners of my garden.  Gosh - it's become so dark I will have to put the lights on, and here is the rain - again.

Due to circumstances, I have only managed the occasional trip to the plot, but slowly I am getting it back into shape, tackling the weeds, tying up the sweetpeas and beans, and re-sowing the seeds (some for the third time) that had not germinated.  There are some good strawberrries to enjoy now, and the first pickings of broad beans are almost ready.  The fruit trees will not be supplying me with anything this year - perhaps one or two apples, a dozen plums and maybe two cherries. If all goes well, it will just be currants, strawberries (if they don't all rot or the slugs get them) and, to my surprise, tayberries.  I wasn't expecting much from them, but they are looking pretty good. 

Now it's absolutely hammering down.  I rushed upstairs to close the windows and  just spotted a fellow plotter walking past my house with his  dog.  They'll be drenched by the time they reach home. The sky is now battleship grey, the rain even heavier, and here comes the thunder.  I expect there will be flash floods.  Yesterday was just a teaser - to make us think summer had arrived.  The foxgloves will be bowing down even further. 

Back to the plot, if the spuds look pretty good above ground, and if they haven't actually rotted away below, I have reminded our grandchildren that it is almost time for them to dig a few up, as they had helped me to plant them.  I've two bags of potatoes growing by my greenhouse, at home, and they look quite healthy - better than in past years.  Does this mean a decent crop, possibly due to all the rain?  Or will the slugs have got to them first?

Well, the deluge continues, and the road is beginning to flood.  It's just streaming down my neighbour's block-paved drive.  I'm pleased we still have a garden at the front, so we don't add to the run-off problems.

Mike is still in the QE and we are awaiting the decisions of the doctors as to his prognosis and future treatment.  He's usually asleep when I visit.  I visit every day, at different times, but he is rarely awake enough to have a chat, and when he is awake he is confused about the day and time, and events that have happened.  He's beginning to eat more, and the physios are trying to get him to walk, but he is very frail.  Fortunately he is not in pain, and is well cared for.  I don't half miss him - the family miss him - and so do all his friends.  I expect, if he is awake at all, he is now looking out of his window at the helipad above the car park, as the thunder rumbles overhead and the rain pours down.  Let's hope it has stopped by the time I set off.

After the long train journeys to and from Spain, I am now spending every day travelling by train to and from the hospital.  It's an opportunity to zap out a bit, and to catch up with texting bulletins about Mike's health to our close relatives.  I look forward to different parts of the journey, especially passing the allotments, but the best part are the cuttings, where the foxgloves are in flower down the steep banks, with plenty of white ones this year.  Then, Aston and Duddeston, there are large swathes of wild flowers, with lots of white moonpennies.  I love white flowers.

 Just remembered - the walking club will be out in it  - it's Walking Wednesday.

To finish on a happy note - here's a clematis on my plot.  Can't remember its name at the moment, but isn't it beautiful - and it's white!