Many years ago I bought a pair of crown chimney pots in an antique shop, intending to use them as planters, but in the intervening decades I’ve come to realise that there is no plant on earth, other than maybe couch grass, that’s happy to live in them. Even normally reliable things like wallflowers simply give up and die after a few weeks in the hot, dry environment they create. This year I tried buying a couple of fuchsias in good-sized plastic planters, and simply setting these into the tops of the crown pots. Thus far, it appears to be working, and the fuchsias are blooming. I’m simultaneously pleased with myself, and irritated that it’s taken me a quarter of a century to come up with the idea.
Today was Day One of our little family get-together, with the arrival of the Leeds contingent. R and I could hardly believe that we were actually having dinner with H and S, after so long just seeing each other over the internet, and we thoroughly enjoyed the evening. It was jolly brisk out on the patio though, and I kept finding myself eyeing the snug and wondering how bad it could possibly be to move in there – in pretty much a direct mirror of the Government advertisement I keep seeing on line. Anyway – like the woman in that film – I did the correct thing, and went and fetched some blankets. H and S are delighted with the little cottage they’ve been lent by our friends, and happy, I think to be out of the city for the weekend.
Tomorrow we’ll be joined by Baby B and his parents. Can’t wait!