Last weekend George and I worked like crazy to feed all the fallen branches, sticks and twigs into a large shredder.
|Ear defenders, face visor, hard hat|
were required, along with long-sleeved tops and protective gloves.
It can be dangerous work!
Many hours of labour produced several mini-mountains...
These mini-mountains of chipped bark (44 heaped wheelbarrow loads) have now been scattered on the vegetable garden pathways in a satisfyingly deep layer.
My dear old Toby supervised the procedure, from the comfort of his bed. Age is catching up with him.
Best of all, the lily of the valley has returned - just one clump out of the three which had taken last year - they are heavily perfumed and utterly beautiful. I love them for their beauty, of course, but most of all I love them because they were my mother's favourite flower.
In the last few days the cow parsley has shot up to waist height, no flowers as yet, but it won't be long until the woodland is a froth of white, for a few weeks.
It is such an exciting time.
I found this fairy door slightly ajar, I knocked, but there was no reply...