Does my garden still grow?

The pangs of my conscience boomed almost orchestral, as my garden became a wildlife haven good for supporting bees but remiss in the dinner time offerings. Will power out distracted and procrastination triumphant.

Then came the great purge and alongside nine trailer to the tip it slowly dissected wood from trees. If every fairy needs a tree and magician their cloak I found mine.








The great grotty garden gillet, home made yes but grim I admit. I put it on and time sped, a second became hours and I looked down and smiled to see grit ground into my nails and gardening entrails dangling from my hair. I was a mess but my garden was showing promise.

I refuse to turn it into a show garden, I love it's randomness. But the late salad crop will have to coexist with the important mini beast log pile house. You can see it here in the space that used to be a shantytown.






I will allow the flowers a little privacy this week while they settle down, but hope to link up soon, but in the meantime here is our fly eating pitcher plant that we have been decorating with bees and the sun.





Butt firmly kicked into gardening by the amazing Mammeskjur: