Weeding somebody else's flowerbed...

... sounds like a synonym for stress, right? This is Ben's wildflower 'meadow'-thingy. It may be wild, but it still needs tending, otherwise the over-confident self-seeding plants like borage overwhelm everything else. Before he left on a business trip this week I promised to weed the wild zone, and asked him to run me through the task ahead of me.His advice was great: 'I don't know what that is, so leave some of it in until it grows a bit more and then we'll see,' was the general theme.

I was given free-reign to rip up this stuff, known as 'Fat Hen', apparantly. I'm bad at plant names, I have to admit. They're like numbers to me - I can encounter them any number of times and they still don't make much sense.

I find insects more memorable - after a springtime of being freaked-out by these spooky looking things my little sister and I discovered that they were going to grow up into sweet, colourful ladybirds! That's the kind of thing you don't forget from childhood...

The wildflower meadow is still very wild, but it has a broader range of plants visible in it now, and more space for the later ones to come up. I don't think I did anything too awful...

... and the compost heap is full of borage, which I gather makes wonderful compost. I have some bunches of it in the house too, and there's plenty more still in the meadow! Maybe I'll freeze some of the flowers in ice cubes too, or put them in a salad.

Tomorrow is a big day for the boys. They've taken a stand at the local Vide Greniers and are going to sell off some old toys and games. Their prices are low and their business plan looks good. I'll let you know how they get on!