I'm not about to embark upon a philisophical or phsychological debate about these two N words. This is just an instruction I'm issuing.
I have found myself in the habit of rescuing plants I find growing between the patio slabs in my garden. It's so lovely to watch them flourish, I feel like a proud mother. I really fancy some window boxes but I'm not sure listed buildings are allowed any nice additions. Imagine a tall Georgian house with big wooden window boxes dripping wild flowers - corn flowers, marigolds, wild grasses and poppys... Ahhhhhh.
Here are some pictures of my aquilegia (granny's bonnet) and my forget-me-not.
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| There's a little spider residing here. I've circled him. |
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