A flutter on Friday 17 September

Something old….

It’s the burdz birthday next week.  I could cry if I wanted to but I won’t.  Instead here’s a bumper pack of choons to get the party started.

Kings of Leon – Sex on Fire; Soul II Soul – Back to Life; the Ettes – Crown of Age;  the Specials – Gangsters;  Primal Scream – Can’t Go Back; the Raveonettes – Candy;  Gringo Star – All Y’All; the Fresh & Onlys Peacock and Wing; Abba – Dancing Queen;  White Rabbits Kid on my Shoulders

… something new

Well, I was kinda hoping that someone might send me a new choon.  Seeing as it is my burdzday n all.  But in case not…. here’s a totally brand new one, just recently unwrapped for public consumption.

Something borrowed….

“I think this would be a good time to have a beer.”  (Franklin D Roosevelt)

And who are we to disagree?

….something blue

This summer the development of the burdz blue garden has gathered momentum.  Sounds awfy pretentious I know.  Fortunately the blue palate in gardening terms is allowed to encompass all shades of purple too, so my blue garden has lavender, veronica, irises, alliums, columbine, love in a mist, cornflowers, verbena, geraniums, campanula, phlox and some unidentified spiky thing that fits in rather nicely.  It shouldn’t work but give or take a few jarring tones, it largely does.  There are still some rogue yellows and pinks but by next year they will all have been moved and replaced with more blue stuff.  And some whites to break it all up.  Now I really am sounding pretentious, or even that I actually know what I’m doing.

Why you might reasonably ask?  While I might not fit the average punter’s perception of an eco warrier, I like to do my bit.  Helpful buzzing, flying and fluttering creatures like blue.  This little patch of organic garden attracts loads.  On one count, 63 including 4 different types of bee and 2 different butterflies.

Oh, and I like it.  Which is the point really.  If you have a wee patch of garden needing to be filled, you could do worse than go blue.

“In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald (The Great Gatsby)

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