Evening all.

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Well it’s sunday and im sure you’ve all been praying for the good weather to stay a little longer?

It was forcast thunder this afternoon but nothing came of it (you just can’t trust these weather forcaster’s, I was so upset when the sun stayed and i got another good days gardening in)

Ive been clipping some of the topiary’s ie the cork screw ones and the pyrmid shape ones,
they really do look nice on their own without anything else in sight.

Ive said it before it’s amazing how quick you can fill a wheel barrow with just bedding area weeds.
It’s been a real sunday sort of a day today,

“I mean when i was a child sundays we’re always a long day or thats how they seemed, two lots of church & all the kids in our street had to wear their sunday best, ie hairy short trousers and a dicky-bow tie that was held on with an elastic band,

The girls had their nice frocks on and a bun in their hair,

This was the dress for us kids until 4pm and then it was back to your scruff again and for the lads it was street football and the girls skipping rope fixed to the lamp post,

It was great when sometimes the "mum’s would run under the rope and show the younger girls how it was done in their day, " And they knew all the words to the songs the girls would sing (three six nine the goose drank wine etc etc )

Then as things changed and shops could be open on a sunday and the pubs also open on a sunday evening
Sundays changed they didnt seem as long as they once did.
Sunday was the day you took flowers to those you’d laid to rest, (ive put a poem ref this subject i think you may like “Its called the plot” have a read and see if it rings any bells, it’s after this blog.

Well today was like the old sundays, very still sort of a day, Hot and as i continued to tidy the cork screw topiary up i could hear the birds churping away and even the bee’s buzzing, no human sounds at all.

It’s times like these you really dont have a clue what time it is or whats happening in the world.

Anyway the gardening ive done today is another step to getting the place looking nice.

Now for that poem.

The plot (Daniel Seamingway)

Everytime I come here "I feel so sad , tears in my eyes of sorry for the brother, Nan and grandad I once had "
but now they’ve died.

So many memouries of times gone by!!!

(Ive just looked around and no ones close so its ok to cry)

The flowers from last week
The ones I thought then we’re the best!
will end up in the bin over there with all the waste
“a good place to rest”.

Ive emptied the old water and refilled the pot
“every flowers put in with special care”
Oh i wish i could do more to show i really do care.

Im sorry for the silly things i did in the past,
“The fights, the ghost we never really saw on those dark nights,
The times i used you as a goal post because you didnt like playing football, And thats another ghost!!!

The past is all ive got and again im crying looking down at the plot,

It’s only a little piece of land but I come here and feel sad “WHY” I dont really understand,

Maybe you were stronger than me and i as the eldest was weak?

I’ll wipe away the tears and say goodbye,
I’ll be back again with more flowers & the same old tears same time next week.

• 9 Jun, 2013
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