Rambling Roses

Our rambling roses are starting to come out. They're a little later than the tea roses, and unlike the teas they get pruned in summer after they stop blooming. They then produce new growth and that's where next year's flowers appear.

If you'd told me 15 years ago that I'd know anything about the pruning cycles of roses, I'd have laughed hysterically. We just never know where life will take us, do we?

Here's a blossom from another rambler -- a white variety.

Yesterday's weather was ideal. Warm temperatures, sunshine, pretty much the perfect day. I sat out on the garden bench with the intention of reading, but all I could do was gaze around at the garden. I just couldn't get enough of it. As we get older we become aware that such days are precious, don't you think?

I washed the tablecloths, which had lately been where I sorted all my slides. God only knows what pestilence they contained. I built the tablecloth monolith again and they dried in short order on such a beautiful day.

I also deadheaded the roses and did some watering. The weather was ideal for me, but it's still a bit dry for the plants.

In the afternoon I took a walk over to Kilburn and up the high street, listening to a podcast as I went. The barricades above surround the spot where the "zeal your zest" cafe used to be. Apparently they've torn it out and who knows what's going in its place.

I'm glad to see some Republicans pushing back on Trump and his plan for the slush fund to compensate the Jan. 6 insurrectionists. I certainly don't want any of my tax money going to those people. (I live in the UK, but also still pay taxes in the USA -- one of the joys of American citizenship.) I suppose Trump is now more vulnerable since many of his MAGA acolytes are questioning his decisions in Iran. Let's hope this translates into votes for Democrats, or at least resistant Republicans (outside the Trump strongholds of Kentucky and Louisiana).

Last evening, as we watched TV, Dave and I saw a tiny little fledgling wren flitting around on the patio. Well, "flitting" is an overstatement. Flying clumsily, more like. But it could indeed fly, at least, and it made a surprisingly loud peeping sound. I love seeing new birds out and about. Nature renewing itself!