Firsts

I was just out watering the poor deserted flowerbeds when I saw the first butterfly of the season.

The dead grass has taken on a distinct green shimmer and it will need its first trim soon.

The first harvest from my garden was a handful of cherry-red radishes i picked yesterday, crisp and white and deliciously sharp-hot on the inside.

Spring is here, still sleepy, but shaking the old autumn leaves from her hair and stretching her fingers deep into the ground.

Still no camera, eek.

My one dance instructor donated some plants to my garden, so I spent the morning transplanting a bed of wild irises, something she called a soap plant, and an as yet unnamed aloe although it's probably the ubiquitous red hot poker.

Hopefully the aloe takes, because I would love to have sunbirds and the like coming to my garden.

The transplanted cabbages seem to be doing well, alas the same cannot be said for the butternut, which are now dead, dead, dead. No sign of the courgettes or gems, and I have a horrible suspicion that some bird had a tasty snack...


On the plus side, I've moved the chilli seedlings outside, I have about 26 carrots pushing up their true leaves, and the floradade toms and the sunburst pattipans have sprouted.


I was weeding the pea-patch when I came across a rather unlikely volunteer - a dagga plant. I have no idea how it got there, but it's cute, so I'm leaving it until the cops break down my door. It weirds me out a little that a plant can be illegal.