A Proper Sunday

I love a proper Sunday.  No intention of going anywhere.  Proper coffee and slow-cooked sticky sausages for breakfast.  Pottering in your jammies.  Minor project in the garden.  Aroma of chicken roasting as you wish you had never started said minor project.  Doesn’t it know putting feet up for several hours is a proper Sunday obligation?

There is a high-walled courtyard at the rear of my house.  Over two centuries ago, it was part of the stables for stagecoach horses.  I unearthed a lucky horseshoe the year I moved in.

Courtyard is smallish, shady, breezy and dampish with pots of flowers and a wall-trug.  There is also a round table, double seat, potting bench and occasionally, clothes airers if warm sunshine allows.  I enjoy the shade, but plants find it a challenge.  Consequently, I happily welcome those that choose to live there, bowing to their greater wisdom.  The geraniums I planted on the upper plains, a smaller, but sunnier upstairs area, migrated downstairs into the pots, previously planted with something that departed for sunnier climes.  The geraniums are abundant, deep pink, musky and bumblies adore them.  White foxgloves have colonised pots on the stairs, the ferns have unfurled, anticipating the moon garden flora budding. 

Today, swept up detritus from the winter winds, planted sweetpea seedlings, hung solar fairy lights.  Sowed Kew Gardens Musk Mallow seeds, and, on a roll, decided to repot multiple white geraniums from the dining room windowsill.  In the manner of a minor project.  They had grown straggly, dead leaves clinging like whiskers, and some depleted stalks had broken, leaving their progeny growing beneath them.  The shame of it, the plants were repotting themselves. 

Now they are spick and span in new pots and soil, and I could barely bend to take the chicken out of the oven. 

https://shop.kew.org/kew-musk-mallow-seeds