Spring? Tentatively...

I was inspired by Pipany's A Flowery Post to go outside and have a look at my own garden and see what is blooming today. First I had to wait for the rain to stop, so I went for a run and got thoroughly soaked. One reason I went was to test out my theory that Iron Maiden's 'Run to The Hills' was an appropriate running track. It was. Fast and furious (and wet). It should have been a slow and steady easy run, but it was raining far too hard for that.

These purple crocuses and teeny tete a tete narcissi are in battered old plastic window boxes which stand on the stone ledge which runs along the kitchen wall. I think the battered old boxes are terribly scruffy the rest of the year, but they're so gorgeous in spring I can't bear to move them. The flowers are hiding their faces today because it rained so heavily this morning.

Compare this with the tulip in Pipany's post. This is one of Sarah Raven's Venetian tulip collection - rich orange, magenta and purples - that I planted last autumn. I was so worried that they weren't growing that I dug into the bed to find them. They're up now, thank goodness, but ages away from flowering.

The rhubarb is beginning to show up too. This was originally in one of the flower borders planted, by a previous owner, on to a large flat piece of slate. Every time we dig in that border we've been digging out enormous flat slates. I think the theory is that rhubarb needs a shallow root run. Whatever the truth this lovely old fashioned rhubarb always produced a massive crop. I thought I'd try moving it and it's even better now. It flowers splendidly every year too, which doesn't seem to affect the yield.

These snowdrops and crocuses were planted by Mum as part of a mini white garden. They rarely bloom at the same time, but this year there's a bank of these and a few native Welsh daffodils just around the corner too.

Sunflowers in the foreground racing ahead of all of the other seeds we've planted. Beyond them is a tray of pea shoots, another satisfyingly quick think to grow. In a few weeks time those yummy shoots will be in salads and I'll be feeling smug that I didn't fork out a small fortune for them at the greengrocer's.

Mrs Hen poses delicately on one leg for her close up. The poor thing is a bit lonely because all her friends have died. We have plans to get her some new ones. In the meantime she chats happily to us and we haven't a clue what she's saying. 

As for the rest of the garden, there's no way I'm showing you that! To put it bluntly all four sections of my garden - the lawned garden, the woodland garden, the field garden and the moor garden - are a sea of mud and weeds. There is debris everywhere, a pile of junk waiting for Brian to make yet another trip to the tip, three half-rotten, mostly broken tables I used to use for potting on. The shed has tarpaulin on its leaking roof - or it did have until it blew off this morning - the chicken is surrounded by a hotchpotch corral of wire netting. It is, in fact, a huge mess and I am totally ashamed of it.

What is required is a bit of warm dry weather. When we venture out at the moment we are skating on slippery paths and there are puddles everywhere. If I try to weed, the weeds come up with a clod of mud clinging to their roots. The paths are overgrown, but too wet to strim and, although the lawn is starting to grow and no matter what Toby Bukland said on Gardeners' World about mowing it, there is now way I can.

This year I need the weather gods to be kind.