What a Week!

It has been a bit of a week.
There is nothing like having the devil in the driving seat, is there?
Sixty-something people came to visit our garden yesterday. We have been part of an Open-Garden scheme to raise money for charity - but this year we decided there were too many other things happening, or not happening, for us to open. However - a large group had booked last September, so we wanted to honour that arrangement.

Manic gardening. Weeding at dawn. Planting at dusk. Clearing, pruning, sheep shears to unsightly grass, nail scissors to sightly grass, shoving dead plants out of sight - you name it, it has happened. I did draw the line at hoeing by moonlight.
If we had hit the garden earlier in the year, it wouldn't have been such a job, but first there was the flu and then there was the hail, wind and rain...
Excuses, excuses I hear you cry.
True.

But it was all worth it! The garden shone and the visitors loved it.

Thank heavens for wwoofers, that's all I can say. What wondrous personages they are!

My yummy wwoofers creating the stairway to heaven

I have cast a spell on my fab French guys. They don't know it yet, but they are gradually forgetting that they have ever had a life elsewhere.France is but a distant memory. Family? Girlfriends? Who? What?
They will stay forever!
Eventually we will adopt them and no one will ever question it.
We have always had two tall, gorgeous boys around the place, after all.

As if Garden Open Day wasn't enough on my plate, Top Dog has been keeping me awake during the brief hours when I wasn't digging.
His nasty place is nasty again and the Needle Lady has commanded his attendance in the operating theatre on Friday.
We are all filled with gloom, doom and despondency.
Especially me. (We haven't told Top Dog yet.)
But it has to be done.
I will be much happier when it is over and he is back home, safe and sound.

Mercifully there is Model Dog.

Model Dog in classic lurcher pose

She has put untold hours into the garden this week, too.
But I have grave worries about her.

Will she ever settle with us? Feel at home?
Is it all going to work out?

Will she ever relax?

Or unwind?

Will the day come when she starts enjoying the woods?

Will she ever allow herself to be brushed?

Or start integrating?

The stairway to heaven is open and fully operational, thanks to my enchanted wwoofers...

And when will she stop terrorising the cats?

Or tormenting the hens?

As you can see, I've good reason to be worried.

Model Dog sleeping in the sun