I came downstairs this morning, looked out of the kitchen window, and didn't know whether to whimper or screech. The greenhouse bit the dust. It blew over, tearing more bits, and the plants are broken, pots smashed, plants in the flowerbed crushed, and worst of all, a sealed 5 litre bottle of concentrated patio cleaner (definitely NOT organic) managed to seep into the flower bed. All of it. ALL of it. Into the bed containing sprouting spring bulbs, fuchsias, hollyhocks, dahlias, so many seeds and a little further along, all my roses.
I stood there and just looked. Then I got in the car and went out because there is nothing I can do right now. NOTHING. The wind is still howling, so trying to get it upright and see what I can do to save any of it is ridiculous. And anyway, it is too heavy. AND I can't get to all the stuff in it. Never mind the crushed stuff under it.
You can see that my mood is not stellar right now. Nor am I remotely happy.
I tried to think of some positives. Like ooh look, maybe I can paint the old shed while it is lying in a crumpled heap. But that didn't work. Or maybe the plants won't die, but mutate. That failed to work either. Or - gee look at how many shards of broken pottery you have for drainage in the big pots! No. It didn't work.
Or hey, Linds, you spend way too much time out in the garden anyway. Hmmm. That definitely did not work. I love my garden, tiny though it is. It brings me such joy to see flowers bloom and vegetables grow. If you have been here longer than a couple of months, you will know that from spring, my posts become decidedly garden-ish.
Oh the gloom and despondency abound round here at the moment. If I had curtains at the kitchen window I would draw them so I don't have to see the mess. Out of sight and all that.
Right, Linds, enough of the wailing and gnashing of teeth. Go and finish the bright happy red heart quilt instead and stop looking out that window.