These poor blooms were the last of the pretty things left in the garden this week, apart from the pansies which struggle on valiantly and some cyclamen which were relishing the torrential rain
and of course the trusty old bromeliads, which never say never.
It's strange how when I started gardening at Shoestring Cottage I had definite ideas about what I wanted to grow there, but over time I seem to have abandoned my grand ideas and now am more than happy to accept anything and everything which is counted as a "plant" rather than a "weed". It has turned out to be a lot more subtropical looking in most places than I ever would have anticipated, because those plants seem to give of their best and not sulk and demand too much attention and fuss.
Even the insects came indoors searching out colour this weekend, this enormous wasp seemed convinced it was going to find nectar in the colourful beads crystals and pearls festooned about the light fittings.
At the opportunity shops this weekend there was a great haul of pretty china ready to be broken up for the mosaicing project which is on hold now until the weather improves.
But looking closer at the dinner plates I brought home it seemed a shame to break them up and I'm wondering now whether I might be able to glue them in place whole and preserve their pretty images in their entirety. The willow pattern one is a bit cracked but the other two are in good condition and I think they would look better in one piece.
This plate matches some others I bought quite a while back and it seems a shame to use it for mosaicing
Walking along the road we were surprised to see a group of old Morris Minors on an outing and this one seemed to be the oldest of them, it had a split windscreen.
They all looked so appealing parked together with their various colours and trims, we had to stop and take a closer look.
I found one more "bridge" picture to add to the ever-growing collection, I never suspected when I bought the first one that so many of them would present themselves to me in opportunity shops, just begging to be taken home. The one at the top is the new addition, and you can hardly see the bridge but it is there.
The most surprising thing this weekend was that I found another little glass presumably created for the visit of the Queen in 1953. It was with two others, but they had lost most of their crown ornamentation so will be used in the garden sculptures, but this one I will have to keep. So pretty, and such a small capacity. It was presumably for sherry but a person would only have a minute measure if they were using one of these glasses. More dainty and ladylike appetites in those times one can only assume!
This is the time of year when the garden balls, sculptures and other ornaments come into their own, because there is precious little else to look at apart from the dreaded bag moth cases, which are staging a comeback with a vengeance. Mr Shoestring spends a lot of time filling his plastic bag with the fiendish things in order to destroy them. I used to help him, but I find that over time I have developed a horror of them and they make me shudder. That's my excuse anyway, or it may just be that I prefer to be inside and warm, ruffling up my fabrics and dreaming of new projects both stitching and gardening!