A week on Saturday. Two guests cancelled today. Everythings paid for.
My best onions are grown on soil that has well rotted fym added in the winter before planting, calcified seaweed added instead of lime, and then blood fish and bone added before planting. It works for me.
I'm off to the airport to lick up my friend from Australia. See you later folks.
My dad had "I did it my way " for his funeral.
Not a shotgun wedding after 17 years together. There's certainly no likelihood of sprogs, I've already got a great neice and great nephew. Pension date is nearer.
I order a load of well rotted farm yard manure from my local friendly farmer. He delivers it by the trailorload for 30quid. It takes me a couple of years to get through the pile. I also have four compost bins and builders sacks full of leaves rotting down.
They always say a second marriage is a triumph of hope over experience.
I need walking in together music, and walking out music. I'm thinking pachelbel canon in d to walk in, and the arrival of queen of sheba to walk out. He thinks signed sealed, delivered, by Stevie Wonder. Help.
No fairy. I wrapped the big headed dahlias that are just starting to flower in white fleece. It won't save them from a hard frost, but should stop the buds getting damaged. We had a slight frost the night before.
Clear sky here. I've fleeced the dahlias.