Unlawful possession

Note: I've now caught up on days missed while I had visitors.

The baker's tray on the left that houses the plant pots belongs to Sunblest, apparently. Unlawful possession is an offence. That's what it says on the tray. Nee-naw, nee-naw, here come the Feds!

Today started with my throwing on the grey prison trackie bottoms and fleece after breakfast, and attempting to cut back an overhanging tree that was making an area of the garden into a cave. Kate helped by sawing off a big limb. Then I bagged up the branches (three bags full). Kate and her daughter J had to leave, to go to Preston via mid-Wales, where they'd left their dog on an extended sleepover. I was sad to see them go, and even sadder when I realised they'd left behind a pear tree that they were supposed to be taking to Wales!

We'd booked the tip for 2pm. I carried on slashing and snipping brambles and nettles. Bagging them up, Very boring, but our jungle garden is too wild for a bonfire at present. We might kill slow worms or hedgehogs or wolf cubs by mistake. While I chopped, I listened to the Green Gathering 2021 folk playlist on Spotify. W'e'd originally been planning to go to the Green Gathering festival, but it was cancelled because of the pandemic. As Kate remarked, we did a lot of green WASTE gathering instead.

Of course, there was a ton of washing of bedding and towels to do, so I got started, and ended up flattening the nettles and brambles that were invading the path down to the washing line. Found a flowering redcurrant bush that I haven't seen for ages. It had been buried under bindweed. The awful thing is that there is also another little store of pots and containers under every new place that I uncover. There IS such a thing as having too many pots!

Today we tried a different tip, at Hempstead, near Gloucester. We liked it, though I couldn't believe all the good stuff that people were throwing away! Our stuff is actual junk and green waste. No one would want it for their home. Afterwards we went to the Chinese wholesaler, and the Indian one in Barton street, to stock up on dried mango and popadoms. As with yesterday's trip to the tip at Horsley, the traffic was terrible and no amount of taking scenic diversions helped.

Back home, I carried on trying to unearth a flower bed. More bramble-stripping and snipping. Playlist: summer hits of the 70s. Favourite to sing along with: the Boys are Back in Town, by Thin Lizzy. Found more pots. Found some earth beneath the invasive vinca (periwinkle) ground cover. We've agreed to try and get the vinca out, rehabilitate the flower bed, and try the get the earth-floor area decked. Otherwise it'll just get overgrown again.
Steve brought me a cup of tea. I asked for my stripy cap, because my head was so hot that the sweat was dripping into my eyes! A few more sacks got filled (we're going to the tip again on Friday, Horsley again. I'm wondering whether I should book a fourth trip).

Finally I stopped and threw myself into the hammock. Steve was drinking wine. I was on water. The music was still playing 'Night fever' like it was 1978. CleanSteve said he'd cook supper so I could have a long bath. Fabulous idea! Only thing is, I'm itching from all the nettles and brambles and my niece has gone off with the aromatherapy potion because she caught fleas from our cat, and suffered badly! I could make more, but I've just run out of lotion base. More is on order. But no! no! Someone told me that Parcelforce is on strike. Please, someone else, tell me it's not true.

Now we're watching something about Italian writers. Naturally it involves going to Naples and eating pizza. I'm going to have to read Eat, Pray, Love, or eat pizza. I miss travel soooo much. I haven't moaned because there's a lot to be said for staycations, and there IS a global pandemic, but these day trips to the tip just don't cut the mustard.