Fibonacci Socks Pattern

I finished these short-legged, squooshy lounge socks a while ago and put the pattern details on my Ravelry 'Midnight Fibonacci Socks' project. 'Midnight', because of the sparkly dark blue yarn, and because I tend to still be knitting at midnight. The pattern of knit and purl rings on the leg, and in fact the rib sequence, was Fibonacci inspired, although there are also elements of perfect numbers, repeats and mirrors. Then I got a bit busy packing, moving house and so on, and forgot to test the pattern out a bit by making another pair, checking and writing out the instructions here. So now I've caught up with that, please feel free to try these out and let me know how they go.

Both pairs pictured were made in Alpine Spark, which is theoretically DK, but it’s quite thick, more like worsted weight, so the result is roomy even on my very wide feet. With the same number of stitches, smaller needles and a lighter DK yarn, they would probably fit an average-width foot.

These are knitted cuff-down, using a set of 4 x 4mm dpns.

Cast on 48 sts; I have the 24 heel/sole stitches on needle 1, with 12 stitches each on needles 2 and 3.
12 rounds knit and purl rib in the following pattern:
K1, P2, K3, P1, K2, P3 (repeated 4 times)

Fibonacci sequence leg (38 rows in total):
8 rounds purl
5 rounds knit
3 rounds purl
2 rounds knit
1 round purl
1 round knit
2 rounds purl
3 rounds knit
5 rounds purl
8 rounds knit

Priscilla Wild’s short row, no wraps heel:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zu5YAKsAEpY
has a nice, clear demonstration by Charisa Martin Cairn.
Note, I don’t know whether it’s the way I do K2tog, but I find I get a neater finish by doing SSK followed by the M1L on the knit side, although the purl side is always neat with P2tog and M1L which is then purled.
Naturally, you can substitute your favourite way of doing a heel. 

40 rounds stocking stitch foot (for my size 6/39, although obviously, this changes depending on foot length).

Toe decreases:
Next round (R1), decrease by 4 stitches in total, 2 at each side of the toes as follows:
Needle 1 (sole); SSK, knit to last 2 sts, K2tog
Needle 2; SSK then knit remainder of stitches on needle
Needle 3; knit to the last 2 sts, K2tog.

R2 knit all the way around.

Repeat R1 and R2 three more times (= 32 sts).

Then repeat R1 decreases on every row for the next 6 rows, leaving 8 sts in total.
Cut the yarn and either Kitchener graft the stitches together (which is what I do), or thread the yarn through the stitches to gather the toe. And then do the other sock.

Belly Dance Costume on a Budget

It was with a deepening sense of gloom that I watched the coverage of the Autumn Statement. The forecast is that low and middle income 'households' who are the JAMs - a nice new acronym, the 'Just About Managing' - will find themselves worse off as a combination of inflation and welfare cuts take hold.

When you are just about managing (and especially when you are actually not managing but determined to have some belly dance space-time), it can be really difficult to justify money spent on costume for a performance, especially if your time and money is so short that this may be once a year. The temptation is to go for something cheap, preferably something which will do double duty as everyday clothing, perhaps something you already have in your wardrobe. This can be really difficult; costume should ideally look like costume. There are few instances where you can get away with everyday wear, unless your everyday wear is somewhat bohemian and full of rich fabrics, colours, textures and bling! So, bearing in mind that I'm considering amateur performances in relatively 'safe' spaces, such as local haflas, here are some tips on what you might look for, what you might get away with, and how not to waste your money.

First, bear in mind that your costume should:

• Suit the dance style. Think about the dance - is it more cabaret or folkloric? A distinct style, or fusion? You might get away with jeans and a T shirt for Shaabi, or summer skirts for something folky or fusion, but not for something more classical.
• Fit you. Not so loose that the movements can't be seen or that it slips around or down, not so tight that it looks like you might spill out or it rides up, not so long that you trip over it, nor too short.
• Flatter you. Maximise your assets, minimise your faults, cover up anything distracting, such as large, scarred tummies and bingo wings, and look as though you are wearing the costume and not the other way around.
• Provide some visual interest and look like a unified group. I'm all for individuality, but if everyone just wears what they have or like, you can end up with every style of costume in every colour (which is what happened for the Imago dancers' first show piece. Ah well, it's all experience!). Costumes don't have to be identical, but should have some sort of richness, either in their decoration or the blend of colours and perhaps textures or fabrics, and if not all the same, then a limited set of styles can bring a group look together.)

The first thing is to assess what you have, or can borrow.

• Skirts. A skirt should be long and move nicely. Long means down to your ankles, or onto the instep of your foot, rather than calf length. Try turning in the skirt and twisting your hips to see how it moves. Ideally, you should have a skirt with a hem at least 3-4 metres long. A circular skirt will have a hem 6-7 metres long. A half circle skirt with godets (triangular inserts) can also work well. Tiered skirts used for folkloric or tribal style dance often have hems at least 9.5 metres long, roughly equivalent to a circle and a half, but if the top tier is too long, onto the thigh, it may not move well. This is often the case with tiered 'broomstick' skirts sold as summer skirts, which often do not have enough fabric gathered into the tiers to move well.
• Tops. A good basic is a close-fitting vest top or strappy camisole of fine cotton, poly-cotton, polyester or viscose jersey. This can be paired with a cropped-length tie-top of some sort, in a matching or toning colour. Make sure the tie top is big enough so that it does not ride up over the bust, and you can get a sleeker look with a top which has ties long enough to cross in front and tie at the back. Any T shirt should be close-fitting, with a deep and preferably decorated neckline. The only time I would suggest something 'blousy' would be a folk top with a gathered neckline, full sleeves and some embroidery.
• Trousers. I've seen a lot of trousers described as 'harem pants' recently, but they are really just pull-on trousers with pleating at the waist and a narrow ankle. These can work if they are made in a drapey fabric, otherwise choose some made from a decorative fabric (and more of it!), with elastic at the ankles (and long enough to cover the ankle bone). For tribal fusion, flared jazz pants, perhaps with a small over-skirt, can work well.
• Dresses. Depending on the cut and decoration, an evening gown could double as a cabaret dress. (And a dress galabeya could double as an evening gown.) A simple column or A-line summer dress with a beaded neckline might also work when worn with a matching coin belt.

Now you're in a better position to consider what you need.

Do:

• Think ahead; the earlier you start to plan and put a costume together, the better.
• Be prepared to spend some money at some point. Start a costume fund. It is possible to get a dress galabeya, which could see you through several styles of dance, for around £50.00 (although the way the currency is going at the moment, not for very much longer!).
• Be prepared to have more than one costume if you are going to continue!
• Know your size/measurements and look carefully at descriptions and pictures when buying online.
• Resist buying the first thing which catches your eye because it's cheap and looks like it will do.
• Support your local dance events and buy from souk/bazaar vendors. You get to handle costumes and try them on, and you are often effectively supporting small businesses. If the vendor travels to Cairo (for example), have a chat about the sort of thing you're looking for, what you can afford, size and colour preferences.
• Have a look at internet sites selling professional costumes. With the change in exchange rates, these are far more expensive now, but you might get lucky with a sale, and it will give you ideas.
• Keep an eye on eBay, there are bargains to be had, especially if you happen to be the right size for another dancer's second hand, quality costumes.
• Keep an eye open in charity shops for evening dresses, skirts and tops which could be adapted, and outrageous bling in terms of jewellery, providing it suits the costume you are putting together.
• Reality check. If you sew or can have someone sew for you, re-purposing clothing can work out cheaper, but there is a lot of work in a belly dance costume and you may spend more on the beads and sequins than you'd planned. Have an idea of the cost of fabrics per metre and how much you would need to make a garment from scratch, which is sometimes quicker than making alterations. You might be able to buy a lot of sequins more cheaply than salvaging them off another charity garment. Blingy jewellery which could be used as costume decoration needs either to be removable or in a mount which won't rust.
• Remember that even professional quality costumes often need some adjustment to fit your unique body!

Avoid:

• Harem pants, skirts or dresses with metal coins on as part of the decoration; they will be difficult to wash.
• Costumes which claim to be 'professional' but do not look like anything which, say, Eman or Hoda Zaki, Hanan or Bella would produce.
• Anything marked as one size fits all, unless it really can fit you.
• Anything which seems to have an identity crisis. A quick look through eBay this evening resulted in a lot of yoga, Bollywood and ballroom costumes tagged as belly dance.
• Anything which looks like lingerie/underwear. This includes bras with a decorated front, but still with the stretch straps at the back. (You might get away with it peeping out the front of a tie-top or deep-fronted galabeya, but don't spend money on one unless you are sure it will fit!)

Really Don't:

• Go for Carnival, Halloween or other dress-up costumes - they're not usually designed to be danced in. Yes, that includes that set of  'endless wave' style harem pants with small clusters of beads on the points, halter top and belt smothered in coins and sequins, all for under £18.00. What a bargain, so difficult to resist, even when you suspect that the halter top will not fit (as they even point out that it won't provide full coverage for a B or C cup bust). Shown on a tiny model, it looks lovely. I know someone who bought the pants, and the loosely woven chiffon tore under the weight of the bead clusters (not that they were heavy!) and kept on tearing, before she'd even started dancing. The same goes for cheap 'tourist tat' costumes, especially if the bra cups are shaped like cones or as two circles joined half-way up by a short strap. These often also have some sort of flower, target shape or a tassel on the nipple. Just don't go there.
• Start with accessories. However tempting it is because they are cheap, little elasticated wristlets with coins or a jingly ankle bracelet are the least of your needs and may not suit the style of the costume you're putting together. If anyone wants to buy these for you, encourage them to put a few quid into your costume fund instead!

Happy costume hunting!

Further reading:
You might want to look at a previous post when I was thinking about costuming a couple of years ago.
Shira's website is full of superb information, indispensable reading!

Renewed Energy

Last week was half term, and with no classes to teach and the offer from a local friend to look in on my cats, I went away for a couple of days to see my friend S. She has IIH (as a primary condition, there are other problems!), and moved into a little semi-detached council bungalow set up for disabled living at about the same time I moved last year. Since she moved, she has successfully fought for her disability welfare payments (which were stopped after her re-assessment, where some incompetent jackass didn't document the issues correctly and they decided she wasn't disabled enough to qualify). The payments were backdated, too, so she has been able to go from overdrawn-and-what-the-hell-am-I-supposed-to-do-for-money to being able to get by well enough to be able to get by while concentrating on managing her conditions. She was also lucky in having good neighbours, who look out for each other. The pub at the bottom of her road even delivers her Sunday roast lunch, (we went there for lunch on the second day, and the food is good and reasonably priced!). The little bungalow is just right, with a little patio area and low maintenance flower bed out the back, so her Chihuahua can do his business and scamper around a little. He's evidently settled in well too! He's a complete sweetheart, so cute, especially when he sings along to the Family Guy theme. Well, 'sings' might be the wrong word, it's more like a howl and it's extremely funny.

S spoiled me rotten, giving me her old mobile so that I now have a working mobile phone again (not only that, but a smart phone too!). And, as we did occasionally when she lived down this end of the country before she became ill, we decided to have a spa afternoon. After scouting around, she decided we should go a little further afield and booked a couple of packages at the Celtic Manor.

We arrived only a couple of minutes late. S had been directed to the underground parking, where disabled spots were available near the entrance door to the spa level. They may have been close to the door, but weren't wide enough to allow easy access (such as opening the car door all the way to get the walker out easily, or space to use it past other parked cars!) and the parking charges were rather a rude shock as well. The light lunch was nice, although the lobby level which contained the bars and restaurants was a maze of changes of level, not ideal for someone using a walker. Good job we didn't take the wheelchair! There was a way through without steps up and down, but it wasn't obvious. The facial and back massage were utter bliss; the pool, crowded with kids and parents at half term, rather less so. The communal spa pool/jacuzzi was really not accessible unless you could manage a large step up and the pool surrounds were rather slippery. Even the women-only jacuzzi was not easy to step up and down into and rather noisy, as one of the jets was really strong and gushed water up the corner of the pool.  Not what I would expect from a 5 star hotel, and I think our old haunt at The Cliff in Gwbert does it better, feeling much more like a sanctuary, and with heated loungers too!

My drive to Pengam took longer than the couple of hours suggested by the AA, causing S some consternation that we would be late for our spa date. However, my drive home took even longer. Not only was I in my usual 'where on earth am I?' mode, trying to drive and navigate in a strange place in the dark, but having successfully got back onto the Heads of the Valleys road and settled into its groove with 21 miles to Neath, I found the road closed with a diversion taking us down the A470 onto the M4. It seemed to go on forever, taking me past signs which pointed to places close to where I'd started from, a good 3/4 hour previously. Once on the M4, the first sign I saw announced that Neath was 30 miles away. Not that there were many work-arounds for that road closure, but the Maps app on the phone will come in useful, as it will act as a satnav for those occasions where I had previously followed my nose and continued in ever decreasing circles until I found my destination.

I got home to find the cats a little clingy after my night away from them (the first since we moved) but none the worse for having been shut in for a couple of days. The next morning, far from feeling fresh from my spa treat and break, I felt tired out, my knees painful from the driving. I spent much of that day just sitting, knitting, binge watching Strictly It Takes 2 to catch up before the weekend's shows. I started a pair of socks to test out my 'everyday socks' pattern just before going away, and finished them on my rest day (so must write up that pattern!).

The day's rest was just what I needed, and since then I have been steadily reducing the laundry pile, doing a first read-through of a friend's novella (a compelling read, must send the notes back!), which prompted me to blog a little (because I've hardly written anything this year!), applying for a couple of jobs, getting a new sim for the phone and my old number ported over, and generally trying to learn how to use it without my head exploding. In a couple of months, it will probably become a natural part of my everyday existence to the extent where not having it will feel like I'm missing a limb, or something.

Having started to knit again, I was rummaging through my stash of yarns for some sock yarn I thought I'd bought, in order to test out my everyday socks pattern in a smaller size than my hefty, wide feet and ankles.  I didn't find it, probably because I thought I had better finish some WIPs before I indulged in more yarn or started another project. I found some other yarn I'd been looking for and, yes, more WIPs, although since they'd been packed away since I moved and I'd forgotten about a couple of them, perhaps they are UFOs until I pick them up and start working on them again.

I'm rather glad of this renewed energy. The To Do list never seems to get any shorter, and I suspect this is subconsciously deliberate on my part as I'm always happiest with lots to do. #NeverBored!

The OPAL New Zealand Flatworm Survey

Emptying the compost trug onto the freestanding heap the other day, the contents cascaded down the front and sides, missing my legs and feet only because I stepped briskly back out of the way. It's big enough to possibly fill two of my compost bins. The front garden now has its own heap in the centre, since anything I dig up in terms of grass and weeds will eventually have to be either brought through the house to the back garden, or left in place to rot for long enough that it can just be spread as mulch over the front garden. As far as the freestanding heap in the back goes, something will have to be done. Perhaps if I turn the top of it over to lean against compost bin #1, as there doesn't really need to be any space between them? I've another trug-full to empty now, not to mention disposing of the remaining tomato and courgette plants, now showing the effects of the cold nights we're having. I decided to have a look in my compost bins, after all the emptying, turning and refilling I did a few months ago.

Bin #3 is the next one to be emptied, and looks like it's almost ready to go. It has avocado stones growing in it, sending up pale, elongated shoots. Tempting though it is to transplant them and try to grow them on, using etiolated seedlings is not a good start and I know they really will not grow to a size to yield fruit in this country, short of being patient for a number of years while they grow in a heated glasshouse. I used to work with a chap who had an avocado tree in a large pot in the corner of his office. Last seen, it was trying to get through the ceiling and out of the window and although at least 10 years old, was still nowhere near ready to start producing flowers.

The other two bins seem to be rotting down nicely, (the compost accelerator seems to be working) with bin #2 being the most recently filled. I topped it up a few months ago with a forkful of stuff from the bottom of the (then newly-started) freestanding heap. Although it has space now for more to be added on top, I'm loath to do it, as the weight might reduce the air in the existing contents and lead to anaerobic conditions, which will stop it rotting down.

When I was turning over compost back in June, I was quite worried over the lack of worms, both in the compost bins and in the garden. But now, the bins are full of worms of all sizes, and I'm finding plenty of earthworms where I've been turning over the front garden. More significantly, in the time I've been gardening here, moving aside stones, pots, bags of compost and so on, I have looked for, but not found any New Zealand Flatworms. Thank goodness for that! Which reminded me that I'd had a card asking for results for The Opal New Zealand Flatworm Survey.

Having forgotten about that for a few months, I wondered whether it would still be ongoing. I went to the website to submit my survey results and it is! There has also been a soil and earthworm survey going on, although November is rather later than ideal to be doing that and it requires things like test strips and mustard, neither of which I have in the house. However, there was the most awesome guide to the common worms. Yes, I know, not everyone's idea of a thing to contemplate, but take my word for it, it's very well done and I shall doubtless use it sometime to study which worms have chosen to make this garden their home.

Oh well, that was the easy bit. At some point, I shall have to go out to empty and turn the contents of the bins; #3 into an empty compost bag if I've no bare soil that it could go onto, #2 into #3, #1 into #2 and the best rotted stuff from the freestanding heap into #1. At least now I have a lot more worms in the garden to help it on its way to lovely compost!

A Creative Mind?

I would like to think that I'm creative, but I stand in awe of some of my friends. Artists, designers, crafters, musicians, dancers, writers, who just seem to have an idea on an in-breath and a few out-breaths later produce art, craft items, music, choreography, books and poetry or a kitchen which looked as though it had been completely redesigned by adding a couple of shelves, a few tiles, and repainting everything.

Of course, I know it's not as simple as that. I was thinking about how to increase my creativity and productivity as I sat down at my desk this morning, musing about why I feel compelled to multi-task rather than focus on a single job or project. Earlier, I had been looking for some yarn I thought I had and instead found a project I'd started, packed away unfinished when I moved, and completely forgotten about. I was flicking through my design book with a friend last night, and wondering how and when I was ever going to make some of them. Maybe the number of projects on the go means I have plenty of ideas, it's the productivity which is an issue.

As I sipped coffee, filed a broken nail, updated and prioritised my To Do list, looked up some yarn, checked and answered email while opening what had come through the post, added updates to my accounts while opening the choreography notes to prepare for tonight's class, Facebook pinged up a post from one of my awesomely creative friends.

It was a meme, something along the lines of, 'If you want to know what having a creative mind is like, imagine a browser with 2,867 tabs all open at the same time'.

YES! Yes, that's me! And it looks like I'm not the only one. Maybe I do have a creative mind after all!

The View is Still Here

At least, for now. A decision hasn't yet been made on the planning application for the new close of 'affordable housing' on the field behind me, but I see from correspondence that the various authorities have effectively said they have no objections, subject to various conditions. I see that the people who were coordinating the campaign to get the plan rejected appear to have given up, having sold their bungalow.

Popping back up to the bedroom to fetch some laundry on 13th September, I could see some goings-on in the field.

Zooming in, I could see they'd dug a hole (looks like the same reddish, stony soil I have in my garden - hardly surprising!) and were pouring water down it. From the position, it looks like this might be where the planned road in will intersect with the existing drain. Checking the existing drain, huh? Presumably it drained okay - by lunchtime, the hole had been filled in.

It seems the various conditions are being worked on, thus eroding any reasons why it shouldn't go ahead. I don't think residents' personal objections carry any weight at all. I'm not impressed.

Season of Mists and Musings

It's the start of October already, and 'tis the season for dark evenings, finding the winter woolies and snuggling in front of the TV to watch Strictly Come Dancing! The Autumn Equinox came and went, and with it a review of my quarterly To Do list, which is as long as ever. Will I ever achieve my goals? The project to reclaim my sewing desk and sort out my sewing notions has been ongoing for a few months now - nearly there! But I'm still getting cross at the chaos, and particularly since there are items I still haven't found (and some bits which I unpacked before I had a place to put them, and now I can't find them again!)

Summer flew by in a whirl of belly dance festival, covering LIFT classes, summer school, gardening, planning classes and workshops for the Autumn term and an absence of beach time, because whenever I was up for it, the weather was not. Most of the time I seemed to be either dripping with sweat (having exercised/danced/gardened) or feeling a bit chilly.

There have been comments on Gardeners' Question Time and Gardener's World about it not being a very good summer, weather-wise (again!), which is some consolation - it's not just my imagination. There's a tub-trug in the garden which I haven't been using for weeding, instead leaving it to gather rain water so that every so often, I can dip plant pots or my watering can into it. It got down to a quarter full before it was topped up again, and is now brim-full. I've been loving the hour-long Gardener's World programmes, and shall miss them when they finish for the season.

The pink rose is definitely a keeper, just not where it's currently growing. The scent is better than I thought and it's growing strongly. It sends up shoots nearly as tall as I am, which bend over, and then new shoots 'break' from the stem in the style of some of the older roses. It's rather sprawly and would probably grow up and through another shrub. I'm still researching what it is, while wondering why that matters to me!

The Buddleia under the washing line obviously got its roots down this year and grew terrifically, in some places over two metres of growth in one year. This is without any feeding, so the soil must be quite fertile (everything in the garden soil grew quite lushly this year, must have been a bit of relative warmth and wet). Some of the flower spikes were roughly half a metre long! In mid to end August, the flowers were frequently covered in butterflies; beautiful fresh Large Whites, Small Tortoiseshells, Peacocks, Red Admirals, and Painted Ladies. I so enjoyed having a cuppa, sitting on the swing seat to watch them, or standing next to the flowers and listening to the butterfly wings as they fluttered around. Sheer joy!

The Buddleia made so much growth that it was summer brittle, with shoots breaking every time there was some wind. The last blow brought down one of the very large main branches; split at the base, and is now wilting drunkenly across the patio. I suspect the way it's been growing means that transplanting it may be difficult, but I'll probably pot it up for the winter just to get it out from under the line, as I really need to plant out the herb bed before it gets too cold and wet. Some of the marjoram, thyme and the fennel rotted off in their nice, free-draining pots this summer. I already have a bag of horticultural grit to work in, and some stone to top dress as well. While I've been digging it over, I keep coming across pockets of richer soil with pea gravel, presumably where things have been planted in the past.

The other thing blocking progress of the herb bed is the Crocosmia. I had seriously considered putting the whole lot on the compost heap, but a couple of friends said that they would like some plants of that and anything else that was going begging from the garden. Then, I saw it against the purple Buddleia, and the bees going in and out of the tubular flowers, and decided that some can go in the front garden.

The bit of digging I have done in both the front and back gardens has revealed stony clay soil, not the easiest thing to work with. I rather like doing a bit of digging (or perhaps it's weeding and turning over, considering that I have to use a fork!) and find I can manage an hour before really needing a sit-down. But that's when the soil's not horribly wet from rain in the preceding days. It makes me wonder how plants which like a nice root run, such as the roses, will cope. My plan to have raised beds for vegetables now seems like a necessity.

The mellow fruitfulness is a bit lacking. The young gooseberry plants were completely defoliated by sawfly larvae which I didn't notice until they had done their worst, as if they appeared one day and stripped the plants overnight. I've had some good courgettes, but many seem to have suffered from some kind of blossom-end rot and the ubiquitous slugs and snails. The aubergine had trouble flowering, because every time it grew one, its stem was bitten through by the marauding molluscs. The first few 'snack size' cucumbers were surprisingly good, since when the molluscs have devoured all the developing fruits. I didn't get any spinach or lettuces. Other gardening friends have commented on the apparently huge numbers of slugs this year. Something will have to be done! I've picked the French beans as they've been produced, but the plants weren't very bushy or floriferous. The outdoor tomatoes have had real trouble ripening and it looks like I'll have to pick the remainder (which is most of them!) while green and see if they'll ripen indoors. At least the plants haven't succumbed to blight, and the ripe tomatoes I've had have been wonderful! Only a couple actually made it back into the kitchen! I'll have to look up the variety of the yellow cherry tomato, the flavour was superb.

I was awoken at dawn on 1st September by a skein of geese honking overhead. Misty mornings, shorter days, a new school term and fat Garden Spiders Araneus diademata crouching in the centres of their dewy webs; all signalling the change of season. There has been a noticeable drop in temperature in the past week, and today's east wind combined with no sunshine means the house is fully 5 degrees colder than it was. I'm wearing layers in an effort to delay putting the heating on.

The swallows have gone, of course. I was aware of them leaving for a while, feeding as they went. Each time I saw them, I wondered if  it was the last until they return next April. In fact, the last time I saw some was nearly a fortnight ago on 24th September (the latest I've ever seen any), silhouetted against grey clouds and blown sideways if they dared to deviate from their course in the hope of catching an insect. Making wishes for their safety, I watched them as they flew east over the fields, until the black specks merged with the sky .

The Hawthorns are loaded with berries. I've heard several people speculating that the berry load means that it will be a hard winter. In the past few weeks, there was a day when the media (including the BBC) was full of headlines stating that it was the 'hottest day of the year' (and there have been a few very hot days this year). Well, it might have been for London and the home counties, but it was pretty miserable, overcast and a little chilly here. I went out and drove back in heavy rain, so I stayed in the car, listening to the radio for a few minutes, (complete with swearing at the 5.00 pm news headlines 'It's the hottest day of the year!'), waiting for the downpour to ease off  rather than get drenched in the few metres between car and front door. The water was coming off next-door's roof in a sheet. I scurried into the house and up to the office, to find friends in the West Midlands and north west England posting photos of flash flooding and talking about dramatic thunder and lightning.

Here are some garden highlights from mid August to early September, as a reminder of the warmth and colour; Scented Geranium flower, Crocosmia, Red Admiral on Buddleia (the colour difference on the wings is because one is a little back-lit), Evening Primrose, a cluster of at least 35 buds and flowers on the pink rose mentioned above, Small Tortoiseshells on the Buddleia, the Campanula posharskyana flowering again (I cut it back after its first flush of flowers to tidy it up), a fuzzy buzzy bumble bee in a Campanula flower, and one of the long Buddleia flower spikes against a blue sky while a flock of Jackdaws swirled around.

Bye-bye Summer! Welcome, Autumn!