The Obedient Plant

This is my favourite purple in the garden, my Obedient Plant (Physostegia virginiana) so named because the flower stalks are very wiry and will stay wherever you push them to.

Playing with the grasses...

Apologies for the late start to our week in which we prove that purple is under-rated.  It's the perfect foil for the blue of the grasses - more picniking for me this afternoon!  Where would we be without purple?!

He coloured with pink!

The day after I blogged about how Tom didn't like pink, I found him creating cars with pink highlights.  When I queried him about this, he said he only liked it sometimes.  But at least he's helping Kate's and my dictum that pink isn't just for girls!

Watermelon, watermelon, I love, you love watermelon...

Pink, fleshy, juicy watermelon.  Planted as a seedling and raised by Joe to a huge, delicious specimen on which we are feasting.  Just served plain, or in a salad with feta, balsamic and mint.  It has been worth the wait!

Don't tell him it's pink!

Tom has a typical male attitude towards pink - he thinks it is just for girls.  As his mother, I disagree and I think that this shirt looks particularly lovely on him.  I don't think he would wear it if I commented on its pinkness, so it can just be a secret between you and me!

Pink - Not Just For Girls.

This week's colour in our month's challenge is pink - or more specifically, that pink can be for boys too!

My Last Green Notebook

In my mother's house there is a cupboard way up high in her studio where she keeps a rainbow stack of spiral bound notebooks. Reds, yellows, purples, blues and greens all waiting to be filled with words and drawings. Sometimes she leaves a notebook on the bunks as a little present for grandchildren when they come to stay with a fresh pencil, long lead sharpened waiting soldier-like by its side. Last time I was in Australia, Mum let me choose a notebook. I nursed it to my chest with as much happiness as a seven year old and started immediately to write in it of craft plans and tempting ideas. Now when I open it, it's like a conversation with an old friend. Things I quickly forgot and am so grateful to be refreshed with.

Of peas and turtles...

The last green peas we harvested were juicy and sweet.  We ran out a month ago.  Thankfully Joe received his seeds from the Digger's Club today and will be planting all sorts of delicious peas next week - including snow peas, delicious!

Unfortunately I didn't managed to get a good photo of what I hope will be the last green long-necked turtle to squirt me with its stink glands!  I saw it ambling along the culvert on the side of the driveway as I was going to pick Tom up from school this afternoon.  I stopped and picked it up to show Sophie and it obviously wasn't happy, so released the wicked scent straight away.

I had a sudden memory of a short period of time during my childhood when we had a pet turtle.  The bathroom, where we kept it at least for a day, had exactly the same foul stench as I was shot with today.  The turtle disappeared eventually - I'm sure I remember my older brother and sister telling me it was stolen by the neighbours (!),  but Kate says she was told it had been taken to a nearby park to live.  Apparently its fate, however accidental, wasn't as peaceful as the neighbour's garden or Hedgeley Dene, although I wouldn't want to publish an unsubstantiated rumour!

Regardless of what happened to the poor turtle, I will never forget that smell.  When I was using my old friend 'Google' tonight to try and work out which turtle I'd found, I came across this article which referred to the long-neck as being a 'stinker' - 'silent but deadly' and that they have glands above each leg which squirt the foul liquid.  (By the way I wasn't sure whether it was a turtle or tortoise, but the article goes on to say that 'although sometimes called a tortoise, the longneck and all other Australian turtles are indeed true turtles...')  So if you see one, look but don't touch - or be prepared to pay the price!

Waiting for rain...

If it doesn't rain again soon, this may remain one of the last green patches on our lawn.  We were lucky to get 12mm of rain on Tuesday night, but we would love some more!

Hop bine shade

This is the last green glimpse of the hop bine that shades a favourite house each summer.

The Last Hydrangea Green

Early summer.

Early Autumn.

The last, nearly ripe watermelon...

Here lies a watermelon with the hope of a family resting on it - the hope that we will manage to let it ripen without picking it too early!  This is the last one in its bed that's almost ripe and we are watching it very carefully.  There have already been three casualties...

The first one was at my own hand.  There are a few signs to look for when testing ripeness of watermelons - and it's best to make sure they're all there before proclaiming the fruit ripe as they do not ripen off the vine...  It sounded hollow and the skin underneath had turned yellow, so I decided to harvest it...  but I hadn't checked its pigtail, which is where it joins the vine.  This has to be brown.  Unfortunately I read this part after the early harvest.  Casualty number one.

The next sad watermelon tale was of an accidental harvest.  Someone (who shall remain nameless - and it really wasn't me) decided to check if the watermelon had turned yellow underneath.  Whilst turning it over, the pigtail snapped off and we had casualty number two.

A day later, Joe and I and the kids went to do our usual weekend harvest.  Joe and I were looking at the corn, when  all of a sudden Tom appeared, proudly cradling a watermelon in his arms - casualty number three!

'Look what I found!' he said, delighted with himself.

Joe nearly dropped to the ground.

So he feels like putting a 24 hour guard on the last, nearly ripe watermelon in its bed.  We are all fans and can't wait til it's ready.  But we'll leave it up to Joe to decide next time.  After all, he is the gardener!

A Month of Colour

A little hint of this month's project - photography by colour. How appropriate for the beginning of Autumn - this week is the last green. We had better catch as much of it as we can before the trees' reclaim it for their winter soul.

Tree and Button Collage

It's done. Farewell February.