What to write about, nothing much is happening in the garden, Sue brought me a dwarf budleia which has been planted, but I cannot buy any bushes until the fence is up. This should start happening tomorrow, I have also been looking at the Blue Cross animal rescue site the last few weeks for a dog, and have just filed an application for a black spaniel, 8 and half years old called Tia, whether I shall get her or not remains in the lap of the gods, and the judgement of the people at Blue Cross which is at Thirsk.
I have ordered spring bulbs, not arrived yet and want to go to Castle Howard nursery centre for a hedge for the front of the house. Then there is the Lavender place just down the road from Castle Howard to York which calls.....so everything is on hold once more.
This photo of the shadowed hare on the wall, is something I see when we have coffee in the morning, it reminds me of the rabbit I see out of the window occasionally, a dark silhouette in the field.
|Evening sun lighting up the coke house|
William Cowper the poet kept three hares as pets, he wrote a poem about Tiney, and his last hare Puss lived to 11 years of age. He seemed to have lived on the edge of his nerves, any grief unsettling him. Attempts at suicide, then being placed in an asylum, for a couple of years; modern divination puts it down to 'manic depression'. But it wise to remember him in the evening, with his three hares playing on the 'turkish rug' that was their green field, his gentle manner making note of their mannerisms.........