On Sunday I spent the whole day in flip-flops for the first time this year – yay! It’s been rainy and miserable again this week, of course, but you can’t ask too much of the English weather. I was just happy to be outdoors. I even got some gardening done, despite my overwhelming urge to do absolutely nothing all weekend but lie on the sofa. (If there’s one deadly sin I’ve got covered, it’s Sloth.) My herb and flower bed is doing very well (I planted a couple of sunflower seeds I saved from last year’s flowers, and I’ve now spotted two sprouts), and we’ve already had a crop of lettuces. Our garlic and spring onions are nearly ready to harvest, and we’ve got potatoes, chives, beets, peas and cabbages planted. We’re a long way from being proper gardeners, but it’s very satisfying to see our meagre efforts bear fruit. Or vegetables, as it were.
The rapeseed fields around the house are all in bloom, too, which is lovely, but does lead me to make unfortunate remarks like, “Isn’t rape season nice!” and “Mmm – I can smell the rape!” I can see why they decided to call it ‘canola’ in North America. Much less likely to cause misunderstandings.
Here’s a new collage based on public domain images of an owl amulet and a Grecian column (Doric? Ionic? Bionic?). I’ve called it ‘The Owl Service’, based on the book, which probably no one but me has ever read. I read it when I was about twelve – I think my mom probably picked it up in a charity shop. It was a sort of supernatural thriller about a family who inherited an antique dinner service with an abstract pattern that would match up to be owls if you held the plates up edge to edge, and then…somehow the owl spirits got loose and started haunting the place? Or something? Wow, what a weird book. I remember it being very spooky, when I was twelve. Anyway, I like the name.
