Often when I walk up or down my back street and catch sight of the flowers on top of my wall, it literally makes my heart leap with happiness. I swear it's a physical thing, a jolt of pure pleasure that flutters my heart then lands softly in the pit of my stomach.
My pots of cheap and cheerful summer annuals are really looking great I have to say. I've had those plastic green planters for many years, since before Little Man was born (so more than 12 years) and they have just about held it together this year although are broken and badly cracked in places. I've decided that next year it'll be time to replace them with some more big terracotta pots to go with the five already there. Those are old too, but still going good, they look better as they age.
I pottered about out the back here today, hanging out all the freshly washed shirts to dry, then deadheading my flowers and sweeping up a bit.
These straggly marigolds are still flowering well, their hardiness really surprises me and makes me happy. Those of you who've been visiting for a while may remember me planting the seeds into an old metal colander (two years ago), they just seem to survive and keep going year after year.
I re-potted Little B's pumpkin vine today too, I've been meaning to do it for weeks. I didn't have any spare pots so I've planted it straight into a full bag of compost (with drainage holes spiked all around the base) which I hope will do the trick. We love watching this vine grow and Little B is so proud of it. I don't expect it'll produce any pumpkins (we were too late planting it I think), but really that's beside the point. Watching the growth of those huge leaves is enough of a pleasure.
Just recently I confess I've been suffering from a little bit of Garden Envy. You know how it is when you kind of wish that you had something more out the back? Something bigger, greener, more room, better views, that kind of thing. We've been visiting friends and relatives lately who have houses with proper gardens, sitting out amidst their greenery and taking in their pleasant open vistas, admiring their carefully tended lawns, flower beds, trees and shrubs. Wishing just a little bit that we had a vegetable plot, some decking, a lawn, a summer house, a view.
And then I come home and reconnect with my teeny back yard and fall in love with it all over again, with the ease of it (just a watering can and a little bit of deadheading), and the cosy simplicity of it. I must keep remembering how lucky I am to have this modest back yard (we once lived in a second floor flat with no outside space at all), and to appreciate all the pleasure that it gives us.