We’re having to say get a 300-year-old sycamore tree at the bottom of the garden felled. It’s right on the boundary between our house and the church next door, and we knew nothing (Jon Snow) until someone cutting the church’s grass noticed it was bleeding sap on that side.
We had Jude’s Christening and birthday celebration last month, and every spare minute we had went into preparing the house and garden for our family and friends to come over. Many hadn’t seen it and we’d taken the leap of organising a garden party and just hoping the weather would hold.
Before the weather totally changes again, I thought I’d just share the photos of the garden that I’ve taken over the last few weeks when the weather was just turning warmer.
The trees arrived for the little orchard Barry’s creating – this one’s all him – all I’ve done for this is water a couple of trees. He’d allocated an area for it where the chickens are, near to a plum tree, and he’s chosen to plant them with an imaginary path running through there, for when we can get that down.
I was a bit surprised that five trees could be delivered packaged like this, and survive. They seem ok though, kudos to UPS!
Before DEFRA decided that we needed to keep our hens in, they had free reign of the bottom of the garden. Barry put up a fence that’s about 4ft high, which actually posed no problem to them to fly over. While they’re billed as not very good at flying, they can flap enough to get a bit of height, especially if they can “hop” from one thing to another, say… from the ground to the compost heap, to the potting shed… and then right off it.