It's not all doom and gloom

The garden might be a mess but under the shelter of bigger bushes my apothecary's rose Madame Hardy has managed to flower, the pure white glows in the darkness of the foliage.

Being protected so far her lovely petals remain unmarked by the rain, but for how much longer I wonder.

Fortunately Sweet Peas are more resilient, the first one opened on Tuesday, in the pouring the rain and today (before the, yes you've guessed it, rain) I cut the first bunch.  I really wish you could upload a smell file, the perfume is magnificent especially now they're warmer indoors.

I always grow several varieties to give a mixture of colours but all five of the first bunch are the darker maroon and pinks.  It looks like there are a couple of paler pink or cream (can't tell yet) which are almost ready to open but as yet no blues, I wonder if the weather has affected the timing of the flower production or maybe the darker flowered plants are simply stronger and better able to cope with the weather.  I suppose to tell we'd have to repeat the conditions and no one wants that.

We're laying in supplies

Just seen the news that the last two days of the Great Yorkshire have been cancelled, not completely unexpected but what a shame, how are our local shows going to manage?
What a 'summer' we're having. Rain, rain and then just for a change deluge with added thunder. So with this in mind we're laying in supplies:

Hebe in front of our load of logs.

The wood shed never got built, maybe next year. But this little lot should keep us going for a month or two!  Of course with this sort of preparation it's going to be steamingly hot all 'winter'.  But just in case I think we'll check the price of oil and top up the tank, oh and add several more bags of coal to the coal house too, now anything else? (yes, 107 bags of Euk - OK Hebe.)

Another birthday

Juno's turn this time, on 23 June (I know we're a bit behind) she reached the grand age of 15 and in this olympic year was awarded a gold medal for such an achievement.

On one of the few dry sunny days!

Since then she's not been so well and has had to endure trips to the vet but with some new pills she's happy and waggy again and is currently snoring loud enough to rattle the windows. Yesterday she got an email from her favourite vet Katie (who was on holiday last week) to enquire how she's doing.  You don't get that from many vets!

It's my Birthday

Well, it was last week.  I'm five now.  Look I got a badge an' everything, Bean found me a lovely pink ribbon.

Five years old - wow. That makes me a big girl, ready for school the Mother Bean says.  Not sure about that I work all day already so when would I fit it in?

I got lovely pressies too and both in my favourite colour.  One's an Okopus and the other is a Squirtle (well, that's what its label says).  I really don't which is better so they take turns.
Finnegan has tried to steal the Squirtle back but I've taken them beyond the gate so he can't - much, he does pick-mouth as I bring them back to show them off.

Wimbledon - already?

Well no actually.

Yes, that's Pimms, but look at the TV, not green lawn tennis courts but rugby posts.

First time we've been drinking Pimms during a match, well it was the final and it was the end of May but even so.  And no, we're not discussing the result.  Roll on September.

The further adventures of Finnegan the Foolish Hooligan

Shortly after his trip to see his favourite Vet the top from a milk bottle went missing, we had a suspicion that Finnegan had stolen it, as he's the only canine big enough to reach where it had been left; but the window of opportunity was small and it didn't really follow his usual modus operandi,  of taking his booty to munch into little bits on his dragon's den.  We watched him like a hawk for a few days - over a week really - and he was absolutely fine and no sign of the top.  So we began to think it must have been thrown away and we didn't realise, or it's down the back of cupboard or similar equally inconspicuous.
Then last week Hebe picked up a stomach bug from somewhere, the pungent aromas in the office on Friday afternoon necessitated having all the windows open even though it was raining heavens hard. Poor small black was quite out of sorts with herself, not helped by her Beans shouting at the men on the box chasing after the oval ball.  Being a labrador it didn't put her off her food or heading out for walks. But on Saturday night she threw up pretty much everything she'd eaten that day and the dog house was awash in the morning from her at one end and Finnegan at the other. No breakfast on Sunday for either and they were both feeling sorry for themselves with hot noses and warm ears and then by tea time with still no sign of food on the horizon they started grumbling about empty tummies. Hebe was fine on Monday if a little flat because of the shortage of food, brown bread and honey for breakfast cheered her up no end but Finnegan exploded all over the yard - nice! So he was on bread and honey and half rations, all was fine by Tuesday, slightly dodgy tum from hound but getting better - the pro-biotics and slippery elm left over from last year's adventures were working a treat.

And then...
Thursday night he threw up again and kindly left this:

 It's pretty much all there.  Such cheers and smiles over a small piece of blue plastic have probably not been seen before! And hope will not be again. 

Foolish Hound. 
Note to self, he can reach much further and is more sneaky than you think.

Footnote, Maia's got the bug now and is making the pungent smells, lovely...

Pink bandage AND a trip to see the vet!

Apparently several miles of tape and bandage with dressings thrown in for good measure, not to mention half a tube of fusciderm are not sufficient when it comes to clobbered tails. We changed the dressings this morning and it wasn't looking -or smelling- too good. An hour of open air and more disinfectant scrub and anti-everything gel before a lighter, to let the air in, dressing which seemed ok. BUT twenty mins left unattended one Friday afternoon and Finnegan had not only ripped the dressing off but chewed an enormous hole in his tail gushing blood all over. I know a little blood goes a long way but this was more than a little and required a pressure bandage to make it stop. Mum was recalled from an afternoon "tea party" and off to Eastgate we went. Favourite vet Katie greeted him with a "what have you done now, Finn?" before clipping all the hair off the bottom half of his tail. Cleaned again, lathered in chamomile cream and more dressings, which unfortunately didn't last the journey home. With a bag full of 'shopping' and a few pounds lighter in the wallet we came home. Stupid hound is feeling sorry for himself, partly the trip to the vets, partly a bit on infection, partly the antibiotics and antinflamatory but also that he's still careering about like a crackpot and belting the great long appendage on doors, walls, chairs, people, tables - pretty much anything that happens to be vaguely within range.
A weekend of feeling sorry for himself and having his tail grabbed everytime it went anywhere near any hard (or even soft) surface / upright and it's looking loads better, a few hours of no dressing to let it dry out helped enormously too.  A check up on Tuesday and he gets signed off, we have another bag of 'shopping' to keep him wrapped up until it's healed.
Nearly two weeks later and he's bandage free.