Seeing as I might be seeing a fair bit of it these coming days – self-isolation being one of the strategies to stamp out the onset of Covid19 – I decided to take photos of things I appreciate about my home.

This is what we look out towards, not a harbour view so much as an arbor view.

We didn’t plant this apple tree, but it serves us well each year. Maybe we should prune it? Its lower branches laden with fruit, are dipping down to almost touch the ground. We actually find this useful, because the ground under the tree is on a lean and propping our ladder against the trunk to gather apples from the upper branches, is really rather tricky.

Toadstools and mushrooms and fungus … autumn’s little joke. Although early morning mushroom gathering is one of my more cherished memories of a country childhood. And there’s nothing quite like a feed of fresh, field mushrooms.

These cheerful fellows are always there for me to say Hi to on my way up to the clothes line. Sometimes I’ll stop and do a little dead-heading. (So Midsomer Murders.) They seem to appreciate my grooming efforts and reward me with flowers all winter through.

I’m afraid there’s not going to be enough time for our toms to ripen. Not enough sunshine this summer, plus planted too late for southern conditions down in this part of the world. Sigh. Green tomato chutney?

This small rose loves all day sunlight (even on cloudy days). It’s a rambling rose, its tendrils fast heading west. It’s taking advice from the sun, I guess.

We purchased this metal mobile on one of our trips to Japan when our son lived there. At one time it was more golden than rusty-red. When it turns in the wind, it oscillates and tricks the eye with a rippling movement. I’ve become too used to it and tend not to notice it much these days. However, today I did notice it and stopped to appreciate its impassive, slightly weary gaze. Today was a day replete with autumn’s charm, so the disc remained still and at rest.

A 70’s kettle – when orange was ‘in’ for just about any home appliance or furnishing.

As you can see I do favour a little orange in the way of accent.

Staying indoors might be the better option these days. No hard thing for me. A homebody by preference. A stay-at-home. A hermit crab. Homely.

Even smaller than the pink wanderer, this white rose is a tub rose. It looked as if it was on its last legs (roots?) a month ago, until I treated it and it sprung away again. It just needed a tonic. Now it’s a tonic for the eyes on our small concrete deck.

As are these pink peonies, the summer plant that keeps on giving. Even into autumn.

Our street view. Today was rubbish collection day and I did send out a small thought of gratefulness for our rubbish collectors. What an unpleasant job it is . I know from what our son said when he did it (for a short time when he was willing to work at any job until he found a permanent one.) Below is a poem I wrote about it:
jobs
While looking for full-time work,
he did temp. labouring
and when he told someone that he was an artist
they said, “Oh no, not a bleedin’ artist.”
Then asked him if he would paint them
a football player.
On a rubbish truck he spent the day vomiting
from a combination of motion sickness
and fumes from shampoo bottles.
Once at the recycling plant,
rolling down the belt,
a whole carcass of a wild boar.

I had to have one of Mum’s lawn bowling balls as a keepsake after she died. To my mind, she and lawn bowls are inextricably linked. It also makes a good doorstop.

Going by the barometer, there is a Fair outcome ahead, and I trust that despite how embattled we may feel at the moment, the future outlook generally remains so.
This gave me a giggle. Until I came to your poem which I decided to read out loud to Nigel without looking it over first – problem was, he was eating breakfast so I hurriedly abandoned the effort! The polys on the steps are lovely; but it must be a drag lugging wet laundry up the steps to the washing line! You’ve got a home you can be nice and comfy in, a safe harbour so who needs a harbour view, and who could ask for more?
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I’m glad you spared Nigel! To the washing line is only four steps, so not too bad. Give me twent years though and it will be too hard! We love our humble home, so arbor beats harbour every time in our books! Thanks, Liz.
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