Anyone for tennis?

Into the second week at Wimbledon and the strawberries look as if they're thinking about putting in an appearance in time for the final.

Double cream at the ready...C'mon Andy!

Tiger tiger burning bright

What in the name of the wee man is that?

This spectacularly emblazoned little creature is currently resting on a branch of our broom plant in the garden. The four mohican style tufts on its back and the array of hairy spikes look fearsome enough to deter all but the most intrepid predator.

Almost certainly, further investigation would reveal the little black and orange striped chap to be perfectly innocuous, but then that would rather spoil the fun. Grrr!

Shutting the stable door...

The rocket has decided to blast off at such a rate that our consumption has been unable to keep pace (such a middle class problem that!)

The youngest and I have spent a wee while rooting out the offending leggy runners and harvesting what we can for the salad spinner.

Waste not, want not.

You're twisting my melons man

One of those 'ach, what the hell' horticultural experiments.

As any fruit fan knows, your standard melon comes with a myriad of seeds which require to be scooped out before munching can begin.

Not for us the drying out and threading onto a necklace though. Oh no. This year I've decided to actually plant some. This lot seem to be doing well enough in the mini greenhouse.

Hopefully they'll come to something and get to the stage where they'll need nets to support the fruits.

If we even get one tiny Galia I'll consider that worthwhile. In fact I'll consider it a miracle - the seeds were from a Honeydew.

Here they come...

Now this is more like it. The much anticipated sight of the yellow flowers signalling the imminent arrival of the courgettes. You can just see one of the fruits forming behind the petals there...

The wee people planted, ahem, thirty seeds. All of which have done very well. We've already given a load of plants away to neighbours and our youngest's nursery but with an average yield of even say six fruits per plant, we're still looking at the best part of EIGHTY of the green blighters!

Ratatouille anyone...?

It's all gone to pot...

One of the garden's most satisfying sights: the potted up strawberry runner.

Effectively a 'free' strawberry plant from one of the already established ones. It appears, however, that a good deal of care must be taken to ensure the new plant is fully established before cutting its lifeline from the mothership...as I discovered to my cost earlier in the week. Nothing quite so disspiriting as a spot of premature cultivation. Oh well. Hoping for better luck with this chap.

How do they do that?

How come peas and beans know that they need to send out their feathery tendrils to find some support to keep them upwardly mobile?

The endless fascination of the garden in action continues apace.