What day was it now? Thursday. The day that the heavens opened, the sceptred Isle saw a nation wide band of precipitation cut a swathe through the land. It is still going today, it may well be a different system actually. I forget now, incensed as I am.

And why, am I so angry? Below is the reason why. I wandered down this morning, me, my red wellingtons. Dad’s words that I should at least change into my scruffy jeans before I go, ringing in my ears. I fully anticipated it not to be there. I envisaged,  that the Wendy house would actually be half way across hobbitland and require fishing out from somewhere. It was still there. In dire shape, and in several pieces.  The broom handles-not quite the two ronnies, I know-were still there. One lay, looking rather sorry for itself behind the wendy house. The others needed rearranging a little. It didn’t take too long, to right the wendy house. It’s big enough, it towers over me a little. Trying not trip, fall and land in the mud, I did manage to pull it up. It’s not sitting firm, but sitting as squarely as it can. Tomorrow, there is a further deluge predicted. So it may well end up keeled over yet again.

The contents have been entirely disgorged. it was never organised in the first place. So that was tidied up a little. Have moved the bag of compost, and will probably store that in Dad’s shed over winter so that it remains dry. The cover itself, it torn to ribbons. Shredded completely. There are serrated edges, that would suggest the elements have savagely gnawed at it. Chomped on, chewed up, and then spat out. Thankfully, there is a second cover that is somewhere in Dad’s shed. I won’t be putting it on just yet. This wendy house has given me nothing but grief since it first arrived!

With the further onslaught from the elements expected, the state of the plot leaves a lot to be desired. That said, on close inspection, green shoots-not many, mind-were observed. Most likely garlic or onions, perhaps the odd spring bulb. However, that means not an awful lot. All those onions, shallots, garlic and tulip bulbs planted are now most likely a write off. There a few bits of shallots that are sat in dad’s shed; I didn’t get around to planting them last month, and space was getting short.

There are puddles every where, and they are only going to get deeper. Other than stand there with a bucket, I’m not entirely sure how it is all going to drain away. The chances of a dry winter are not worth taking a gamble on at all

Yours in anticipation,

Horticultural Hobbit