Sunday 12th March 2017

It is the day before a week away, and so I am in a mood. I really begrudge time away from home, especially at this time of the year when there is something new to see in the garden. But then when I am back home on Friday, I will have eleven straight days back at Chez Jelltex.

I could lie and say we did something different first thing in the morning, but coffee, football, watch the birds pecking at the seeds I put out and making bacon butties. Phew.

Despite the forecast being for cloud, it seems nature had other ideas and it was very bright indeed. So best take ourselves off to an ancient wood to look for orchid rosettes. It would have been easy not to, but, orchids!

We go over to Barham, park in the usual place, and while Jools goes to gather some dead leaves which to make compost. Just two small plastic bags, I don't think the wood will miss the leaves. Anyway, its good for making potting compost, because that is the kind of people we are now.

I walk up the long steep slope of the bridleway, on each side, bluebells are sprouting, but a few weeks away from opening. So the Early Purples would be the same? No. They have a longer view on things, putting up rosettes before the new year, getting larger through the coldest months, then as the days lengthen and the warmer temperatures come, from the centre of the rosette a spike emerges, and from that the flowers will form and open.

Much to my surprise, it seems that spikes were just starting to form, the idea that we could have flowering spikes before the end of the month very much depends on the warm weather continuing. As it was on that day, already it was about 15 degrees, and warming up.

I go back down to cross the road and check on the Lady, Fly and Twayblades. I hope that with the thinning out of the wood, more light will illuminate the wood floor meaning more orchids. After some searching, turns out the wood with felled trunks made it seem a very different place, I found some rosettes, the Lady well developed, and Twayblades beginning to emerge, unfolding as they grow.

The sun was just over the yardarm, so we walk back to the car and drive back home, me with a memory card full of images, and Jools with two bags of leaves. But we are both happy.

I make pork burgers for lunch, with the leftover meat from the ragu, and were a triumph you won't be surprised to hear. We also have beer/cider, and it was warm enough for us to site at the bottom of the garden and look at the paradise we have created. Mulder bugged us for attention/food/something else, but is happy. He purrs at least.

Oh look, there is football on the TV, FA Cup of course, two understrength teams huffing and puffing, but it is free, which is nice. After another hooge bottle of silly strong Belgian beer, I struggle to stay away whilst jools digs over the old raspberry bed.

With Spurs thrashing Millwall, I give up at 4-0 and we re-do my wildlife pool, the old one was too shallow and kept drying out, so will try to do better now. Anyway, looks good. What is clear is that we are middle aged out of shape people who need to do more stuff. However, we've said that before.

Back indoors to write and listen to more football, then cook dinner. Yet more chorizo hash. The weekend is slipping away, there is Robot Wars to watch, then get my stuff ready for the week away, and before you know it, it's quarter to ten, and time for bed. That was ten days gone in a flash.