Grumpy Old Man

By Maurice1948

A rose by any name at all . . . . .

 . . . . . would smell as sweet! I met with some like-minded litter ladies this morning, then went back to the Walled Garden - twice - to take a dozen heavy bags of leaf-mould from the trees around my house to help build up the height of the soil in the newly timber-edged bed. I also carted soil and compost to earth up the spuds which are coming along nicely. Maybe another quick visit tomorrow, or soon, to finish that off. 

The Walled Garden is a bit of a shambles as there's nobody to really look after it in the manner to which it was once accustomed, but there are a few nice plants growing in a bed below the deck where the helpers have their lunch out on good days. This small rose is rather pretty, but I didn't recognise the variety, so turned hopefully to the nursery label which was still attached. It said 'Rose'! Imagine going to the garage and saying 'I'd like to replace my old mini'. 'What would you like this time then Sir?' 'I want to buy a Car please'! Such is the state of the garden centre trade!

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