Little Miss Incy Wincy

I envy the spider
Not tied to the ground
With her lofty perspective
No rooms full of clutter
No keys to be found

Two-legged intruder
Catching a trip wire
Sends her spinning in free fall
Splendid silken structure
A job to rewire

Scaling the red curtain
A jungle creeper
Along the washing line roof
She's sprung into action
Apartment seamer

With high grade alloy steal
Ductile and weightless
Liquid from her spinnerets
And her guidance genteel
Work looks effortless

I really am sorry
Causing such carnage
Though you don't seem to notice
When you're in a hurry
No time for a grudge

I promised you a rose garden.

Some of my fondest, earliest memories are playing in my grandpa's rose garden; the only rose garden in a small mining town in Scotland. I have a photo of me when I'm about two years old, with a big blowsy bloom grasped in my little hands and my face buried in the fragrant petals. I still remember the shock when I discovered that earwigs like to live in there. The roses were pruned, preened and pampered to perfection by large hands stained black with coal dust. "You have to wash your hands grandpa," I would say but the dirt was a permanent tattoo in the cracks of his skin from years of dangerous, hard work.

My grandpa was good at finding jobs for me in the garden to keep me out of mischief. One those jobs was to collect the fallen petals that lay like pieces of sweety coloured silk on the paths. He would have loved the rose gardens at Wisley, the displays are stunning. One of my favourites was a russet coloured, beautifully scented variety called Hot Chocolate. (Seen on the right, third photo from the top). I was drawn to the unusual colour as soon as I saw it and was pleasantly surprised by the heady scent. I was delighted to find it for sale in the shop (they have a huge variety or roses for sale) so Rosa Hot Chocolate came home with me.

They Came from the Bog

Veins pulsing with blood 

Under neon alien skin,

The B movie future 

Invasion begins.

Lured by the acid odour 

Of decaying prey within;

A tasty treat for

A fly that whizzes in.

Not realising 

The dish of the day

Will be him.

We're all going on a summer holiday

I hope you're all enjoying some sunny days. My husband and I have been very busy with work this summer so it's been lovely to escape to my hometown of Glasgow for a wee holiday. Our apartment is on the river Clyde with amazing views of the city, hills beyond and industrial architecture that Glasgow has always been famous for. We had a glorious warm sunny day at Pollock Country Park which has been voted the best in Europe. I have been really enjoying trying out my new Lumix GF1 camera, which was my 40th birthday present and I'm collecting lots of colourful images of summer to enjoy in the winter months.

Pom Pom Parade

If I owned acres of land I wouldn't have a herbaceous border or a red, white, yellow, pink or blue border. On either side of my perfectly manicured, emerald green promenade I would have a pom pom border.  I would fashion garlands of jewel-coloured pom poms from the softest angora yarn to hang from the boughs of my strawberry trees. I would head off on life threatening journeys to inhospitable lands in search of undiscovered gems for my collection. If I had to spend a viciously cold winter alone, sheltering under a tent made from my crinoline, in order to collect the rarest specimens in spring, I would do it.

Splendour in the Grass

Have you ever avoided a busy, national event to go and lie in a meadow? While the roadsides were lined with people cheering on the Olympic torch's journey South, I was looking at the sky through gently waving grass stems, watching grasshoppers vault over colossal obstacles, and butterflies weave, dive and loop-the-loop. Given the choice my son was adamant he was going to the "play park". We didn't make it to the climbing frame and slide when he noticed the grass hoppers in the field on the way there. He and a couple of other boys spent nearly an hour prowling like cats, pouncing every so often, trying to catch them.

The council used to give this open space a regular crew cut leaving a flat, green, giant dog toilet. This year much of the field has been left to go wild. As a result the insect life is flourishing. I don't know if this is a result of the cutbacks but if it is we're all benefiting; a great diversity of wild life will be supported here now. At the edge of the field are large patches of nettles. These are the primary food source of many caterpillars including those of the comma, tortoiseshell and peacock. Intensive Post War herbicide use has led to a decline in our bee and insect population. Some insecticides are persistent in the environment and may have had long term impact on the bees.

It wasn't long ago that meadows would have been everywhere. They would have been bright splashes of colour on the landscape with a wide variety of native wild flowers and edible plants to discover. We are now having to recreate them artificially so that we can go and view them like exhibits. When I visited RHS Wisley a couple of weeks ago I saw an area that is being cultivated as a flower meadow maze. It looked really rubbish. I don't know if it's because of the weather but it does show that even here, where everything else on show was of the highest standard, creating a wildflower meadow is not easy. So much harder to recreate something once it's gone.

Are there any natural meadows near you?

Ten Green Bottles

When researching elderflower champagne recipes on line, I read that you should pick the flowers on the morning of a sunny day when they will have a slight banana scent as opposed to the essence of feline urine that develops by the afternoon. Usually here in Hastings in the summer every day is a sunny day. This year I had to check the weather forecast daily and bide my time. I had already looked around my local green space to find some nice smallish trees with plenty of flowers, within reach, not too near the road. I finally noticed a sunny morning was due so I got all my equipment ready and started sterilising bottles. I went to collect my son from school. We always visit the playpark on the way home which is at the top of the green space. While there, a neighbour arrived with her daughter, her dog and a big black bulging bin bag.
"What have you got there?" I asked.
"Elderflowers" she replied.
I sighed.  She'd pilfered my stash.
Her husband who runs a restaurant makes elderflower jelly. This is what comes of living in a town with enterprising foragers; don't dally when it comes to harvesting your wild foods.
We were left with some really amazing big bunches of white flowers....right at the top of the trees. The next morning my husband and I and the loppers went out on a mission. Half an hour later I was balanced on his shoulders with loppers fully extended risking my life to reach the best blooms. I really don't like heights and in 20 years together I have never sat on my husband's shoulders so this just demonstrates the lengths I will go to to when I've put my mind to something.

Once you've nearly broken your neck getting hold of the flowers the actual making of the champagne is dead easy. I roughly followed a recipe, chucking the flowers, some cut up lemons, some sugar (and icing sugar because I didn't have enough granulated) and a little apple cider vinegar into a sterilised bucket then filling it up with water. I left it in a cool part of the house for a couple of days with a tea towel and piece of cardboard on top.
The next bit was a faff and a half. I had my plastic bottles lined up in the bath to sterilise them with sterilising fluid. I had a big jug of cooled boiled water to rinse them out afterwards. I scooped out all the lemons and flowers I could from the bucket. Then I filled a glass jug with the cloudy liquid and poured it through a tea towel (that had been rinsed in boiling water) into another bowl. This was to filter out any little bits that were left. I then poured this through a funnel into my bottles. When I had finished I left the bottles sitting out next to the washing machine with the tops just resting on them. I had read that it was a way of preventing the pressure from the gas building up and blasting them off. There was a whole thread of horror stories of broken glass and sticky liquid coating walls on the Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall site. I was glad I decided to use plastic bottles. I told my husband about the loose-topped bottles. A couple of days later I came home to find him mopping up an inch of liquid from the floor next to the washing machine. There is something a little upside down about a wife being furious with her husband because he's spilled her home brew while putting a washing on. How times have changed. It's a wonder any of us can keep up.

Only three bottles were left. After a week we did have bubbles so I put one of the bottles in the fridge. It was the most delicious, refreshing, zingy drink I have ever had. Like most things you make yourself it definitely tastes all the better from all the effort. It has actually made my dreich and dreary summer a joy. I can't believe I managed to make this delicious beverage myself and that I made sparkly bubbles from flowers, water, sugar and vinegar. It's amazing. So we went for a walk in the woods and came back with another load of flowers and I started the whole process again. The second batch looks more cloudy. It's worth noting that the flowers do not keep so you really need to have everything ready to go and get them home as soon as possible. We had a bus journey back from the woods. I had collected them in a pillow case thinking they would have more air and stay fresher but when we got home they were already starting to discolour and I had to throw some away. I risked my life, stung my legs to bits with nettles, ruined two tea towels and a pillow case (don't use your best vintage ones) and it was so worth it. I'm hoping my brew will last us into the winter months and will help me cope with the miserable summer. Then there's only eleven months to wait until the flowers come out again to decorate the trees like clusters of magical stars. Something to look forward to!