early evening pottering

courgette, twisted willow and lady's mantle waiting to be planted

the first pea pod!

remains of a robin's egg shell found under the hedge

lettuce, miraculously untouched by snails

buttercups under the bird table

There's been a full scale, three storey song writing session in our house today. Guitars, keyboards, wires, headphones, paper and pens have been scattered over the kitchen, the bedroom, and the attic as Peter and two friends attempted a marathon creative effort.

I took refuge in the office for most of the day, of course, and then at tea time, I took refuge in the garden.

I thought I wouldn't be out there long, as they were nearly finished, and I didn't think there was much to do. But as one hour stretched to two, and I still couldn't wend my way through the instruments to the kitchen table, I found there's an awful lot that can be done in the garden on a sunny May evening.

I planted out a couple of courgette plants, a small twisted willow, and some lady's mantle that I'd bought from the wildlife garden open day last weekend - not realising that lady's mantle is what's already growing all over the garden path. Hmm, a bit of brushing up on my identification skills is needed I think!

I watered the sweet peas, and the lettuces I planted out last week, which are (so far) still intact, and even growing. I found the first pea pod, and it was so difficult not to pluck it right off the plant and eat it. I cut some lilac flowers, and some flowers from the brussel sprout plant that's gone to seed, but that looks so spectacular I can't bear to cut it down.

I carefully and a little sadly moved the dead baby blackbird that had fallen from its nest onto the top of the compost bin, being both thankful and excited that we have a nest in our garden, even if all the birds didn't survive.

I did a fair bit of clearing of the grasses and unidentifiable things that are growing under the bird table. Not all of them, mind you, as I do like a bit of haphazard overabundance in a garden, so a bit of everything got left to grow.

And I listened. To Stephen Fry's reading of Harry Potter in one ear, to the sounds of two different songs being created and drifting from two different windows in the house, and to the blackbird singing on top of the telegraph pole.

Not a bad evening's work I reckon!