the light fantastic
I'm really a summer person. By that I mean summer is my favourite time of year. I would much rather be too warm than too cold, most of my health issues get much better in summer, and the growing and the greenery and the living is easy.
But I have to say, as an antidote to winter, spring is hard to beat. This year has been a nice spring too. Much nice weather, so far not too many solstice storms, and a generous nature. Wellington is full of flowering trees. Not just the Botanic Gardens, which I travel past on my way to and from work (and almost everywhere else too, since it is between us and the city, and us and the motorway). But feral apples on hillsides, self-seeded cherries, magnolias in many gardens... Wellington is a city of delicately pink blossom in spring, much as I associate Sydney with the blue of the jakaranda.
It rained Friday and Saturday, miserably so. But this morning, I woke from a combination of birds chirping and small feet wandering around upstairs (she's gone back to bed now, the rat!) and found blue skies, a pale moon, and that impossibly "light" sunrise you get this time of year. It was earlier than I would have thought, it's going to take a while to get used to all this extra light. Not that I'm complaining!
We have two Tuis who are courting in our garden, centered on one of the more healthy black pittosporums. If we are truly lucky, they may nest. Mr Blackbird and Mrs Hybrid are trying again this year - the poor things. (She's blackbird/starling, I swear, which would explain the complete absence of little baby blackbirds). The fantail does his morning and evening dance around the boundaries of his and our territory. And the swarm of waxeyes has just dropped by to check out the offerings of stale bread on the balcony.
The garden calls.
There are Jerusalem Artichokes to be planted, and some herbs. Our sterile pear trea to move somewhere where it can at least be useful as a bank-holder-upper, and a Ballarat apple to put in its place. Some light weeding around our now excited potatoes, and the frost-damaged beans to pull out again. Then some more work in the front garden.
But first, I'm going to have a bit of a shuffle around the upstairs, just enough to be able to get the kids to do their rooms. And somewhere along the line, dragonermine is popping around for some bits.
Himself will probably finish off the walls in the laundry today. The wooden floor is varnished, the walls have been rebuilt, the plumbing rearranged, gib applied, and two undercoats of paint as well as two of ceiling paint. Today we get colour! And we're on track to tile next weekend. He is very clever that man.
I feel the urge for kalpudding. We have so much cabbage in our garden, maybe dinner on Monday? I have a nice piece of rump for tonight, with some mash and assorted veges/salads.
Ah well. A cup of coffee, breakfast, and then to it.. It's too nice out there to stay inside for too much longer.
But I have to say, as an antidote to winter, spring is hard to beat. This year has been a nice spring too. Much nice weather, so far not too many solstice storms, and a generous nature. Wellington is full of flowering trees. Not just the Botanic Gardens, which I travel past on my way to and from work (and almost everywhere else too, since it is between us and the city, and us and the motorway). But feral apples on hillsides, self-seeded cherries, magnolias in many gardens... Wellington is a city of delicately pink blossom in spring, much as I associate Sydney with the blue of the jakaranda.
It rained Friday and Saturday, miserably so. But this morning, I woke from a combination of birds chirping and small feet wandering around upstairs (she's gone back to bed now, the rat!) and found blue skies, a pale moon, and that impossibly "light" sunrise you get this time of year. It was earlier than I would have thought, it's going to take a while to get used to all this extra light. Not that I'm complaining!
We have two Tuis who are courting in our garden, centered on one of the more healthy black pittosporums. If we are truly lucky, they may nest. Mr Blackbird and Mrs Hybrid are trying again this year - the poor things. (She's blackbird/starling, I swear, which would explain the complete absence of little baby blackbirds). The fantail does his morning and evening dance around the boundaries of his and our territory. And the swarm of waxeyes has just dropped by to check out the offerings of stale bread on the balcony.
The garden calls.
There are Jerusalem Artichokes to be planted, and some herbs. Our sterile pear trea to move somewhere where it can at least be useful as a bank-holder-upper, and a Ballarat apple to put in its place. Some light weeding around our now excited potatoes, and the frost-damaged beans to pull out again. Then some more work in the front garden.
But first, I'm going to have a bit of a shuffle around the upstairs, just enough to be able to get the kids to do their rooms. And somewhere along the line, dragonermine is popping around for some bits.
Himself will probably finish off the walls in the laundry today. The wooden floor is varnished, the walls have been rebuilt, the plumbing rearranged, gib applied, and two undercoats of paint as well as two of ceiling paint. Today we get colour! And we're on track to tile next weekend. He is very clever that man.
I feel the urge for kalpudding. We have so much cabbage in our garden, maybe dinner on Monday? I have a nice piece of rump for tonight, with some mash and assorted veges/salads.
Ah well. A cup of coffee, breakfast, and then to it.. It's too nice out there to stay inside for too much longer.