Sunny, Lazy Garden Day

First thing Monday morning. Up early but not dressed till ten. Pottering around the garden in my dressing gown, blinking in the morning sun, frightening the neighbours. Noticing that, seemingly overnight, we have blossom on the apple tree. 

And the magnolia is in full bloom, it's petals so big and wobbly it's a wonder they stay up at all.

Back inside for breakfast (blueberry pancakes with fruit, all swimming in maple syrup), which I took ages to make and eat while I pottered around, drinking a second cup of coffee. A delicious, lazy breakfast.

Once dressed, we all set off to the garden centre, along with the rest of West Yorkshire. There are no sweet peas left (I am too late, the nice man sadly informed me) so I buy a small lavender, some fuschias and geraniums, and some tomato plants.

I spend the afternoon in the garden, planting and potting on, moving and tidying. Hours pass. While my back is turned Bella picks a posy and puts it in a small plastic jar filled with soapy water (hence the bubbles). I am at once annoyed with her for picking the bluebells (and picking them so close to the flower, with no stem! Every time...) and proud of her styling skills.

Then it's time to wander around drinking a cup of tea, examining and surveying.

Everything is warming up and growing. There is less brown and more green in the flower beds, things are happening!

Just look at this alluim, right on the cusp of flowering. I was so dazzled by them last year that I went a bit mad and planted them all over the garden last autumn. In a couple of weeks, there will be a lot of fuzzy purple globe-shaped flowers in our garden.

Ah, bank holidays. There is a good chance that, if you're in the suburbs on a sunny long weekend, you'll hear the hum of lawnmowers. The buzz of hedge trimmers, the tap of a hammer, birds singing, someone's radio on. The occasional plane flying overhead. If you're really lucky the sun will stay out and later on in the day those noises will be replaced with the smell of barbecues lighting up. Gardening on a bank holiday weekend, that great British pastime.