Did Tessie have her pills? by Jill Spain

Yeah, a lovely guest post by Jill Spain at Christmas Pie Crafts. Jill and I have been doing the blogswap thing - it's a lot of fun and I've met loads of new people. We'd both like to do more blogswaps, so please do get in touch. It doesn't have to be on dogs and cats; Jill is a crafty lady too. To read more of Jill's stories and see her beautiful handmade cards, please pop over to her blog and show your appreciation. Thanks, Jill, now over to you.

Thank you Lesley for inviting me to post on your blog – almost needless to say, my post is about my cats.

MAN AND MEDICINE (BETTER KNOWN HERE AS CATS AND PILLS!)

I grew up with cats, dogs, budgerigars and hamsters; Richard came from a cat-loving household and as we both loved cats we decided that when we lived somewhere secure and road-safe, we could have one.

We moved from a flat on a busy road in Carshalton to a house in a quiet road in Worcester Park.  Off we went to the RSPCA at Chobham to ‘buy’ a cat; for some reason I had it fixed in my mind that we would come home with a large ginger boy cat - what did we adopt?  A female tabby cat called Tessie, aged 18 months.  Apparently Tessie had been there for a long time, three months in fact, but when we saw her we fell in love with her immediately and couldn’t understand why she had not been snapped up immediately.

Although we had both grown up with cats, being ‘owners’ of one was a new experience for us and we were completely unprepared for the first week that we had Tessie!  Thank goodness we were on annual leave the week she moved in because the first few nights were pretty sleepless.  She howled, meowed and ran around the place like a mad thing – she was clearly very distressed and there was very little we could do for her.  Twice we thought she had got out!  Frist time we found her rolled and hidden in the bottom of floor-length curtains; second time was in a hi-fi unit – she had managed to get behind one of the numerous pieces of gadgetry that Richard had.

Not long after Tessie arrived, we took her to a vet for her second anti cat-flu jab.  When it was Tessie’s turn to go into the surgery, one of the assistants came out and called ‘Jessie Spain’!  Jessie!  How insulting, her name is Tessie.  Jab given and advice received that worming might be a good idea.  Once we had got Jessie, sorry Tessie, home, we nipped out to do some shopping and buy some worming tablets.  The guidance on the packaging said give to the cat one hour before their meal time.  Dedication thy name is Richard!  The next day Richard set the alarm clock for one-hour before Tessie’s normal feeding time – it hadn’t occurred to him that she could really wait for her meal and he could administer the tablet when he got up at his normal time.  Oh well, he learnt as the years went on.

The fun began.  He picked Tessie up and placed her against his shoulder.  Imagine the scene; cat clamped to shoulder in one hand, tablet in the other hand.  Let battle commence.  He spent about 20 minutes trying to get the tablet into Tessie’s mouth, keep her mouth closed, tickle her under the chin/throat to encourage her to swallow; he lost count of the number of times he retrieved the tablet from his shoulder, his face, her face, the floor.  Oh the joys of pet ownership!  Eventually the thought struck that as she was likely to be hungry, let’s crumble it up in her food – this worked, we think.  There is every possibility that all of the crumbs of the tablet were secreted in the inside of her mouth and when our backs were turned, she spat them out!

Tessie had a very long and happy life with us – she lived to be nearly 21 and as with all animals we were very, very sad when we lost her.  Today we have two cats: Jazz (many words have been written about him recently on my blog) and Daisy, a tiny, teeny tabby cat.  Daisy reminds us of Tessie in that she is very intelligent and not that keen on tablets!  The good news is that the flea treatment we have to give them now also includes worm treatment.  Thank goodness, because pill pushing is flippin’ hard work.

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On banking, mice and lovely shoes

I feel grubby today. The day started normally enough - kicked husband out of bed to run the Boxers, then off for a swim, then a dash into town to catch up with the bank manager. He asked to see me. I think he wants to sell me something. He's a nice enough chap, just not very convincing. Perhaps it's because banking is so regulated now. You must have a stocks and shares ISA. OK, then tell me what you've got. I can't. I'm not regulated. Stare at sad man. I give you permission to tell me about the ISAs. I will try to send you a brochure. Then another sad man will want to meet you and ask you lots of pointless questions, after which I will probably say No anyway, because the initial charge is too high. He stares at me. Am I using all the benefits I pay for? Yes. Clearly, he is regulated to sell me insurance. And isn't this the problem with high street banks? Just stick to doing what you do best. Keep my money nice and secure for me until I need it to buy a nice pair of shoes. Don't be my stock broker and don't sell me insurance. I use specialist advisers for both of these. End of conversation. There was more to say but it is so boring, the Boxers fell asleep while I was recounting my story to them. 

Purple Fitflops, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

The Boxers did however like my new shoes. So obviously an impulse buy, my credit card didn't have time to protest.


Now, back to the garden. What gorgeous weather we are having this week. Everything is germinating in the greenhouse, everything needs watering. I'm watering from the water butts, but if we don't get rain to fill them up again can I fill them from the tap??!! Water rant.


The mice are enjoying the spread too. They've had quite a few of the broad bean seedlings, dug up nearly all the sweet corn, and nibbled on the courgette seeds. At this point it is me 4 mice 0. The war goes on...


The dog walker training goes on too. The Boxers are happily walking with her once a week in preparation for when they are in the boarding kennels. If only we could get them to jump in her van. Next time, we are going to sit in the van with a cup of tea and hope that the boys will want to join us.


And just because I can, this is the view from my office today. 

Sunny Surrey, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

Look out for a guest post coming soon from Christmas Pie Crafts.


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You're Beautiful - new shoes

There is something so tactile and emotional about choosing and buying new shoes. I have small feet but they are very painful - a combination of extremely weak ligaments due to injury and debilitating plantar fasciiitis. So I look longingly at the pretty pumps and sandals, knowing I cannot possibly wear them comfortably for more the twenty minutes, and I certainly couldn't walk any distance in them! I hadn't intended to buy new shoes yesterday, and I actually went into the shoe shop to try on some sensible Ecco trainers. They were horrible, with no support for my floppy ligaments. And then I saw these. These things of beauty. These beautiful purple Fitflops. I have found that Fitslops are perfect for all my foot problems. I can't really say they do anything for my bum shape, but I can wear them all day. Yeah for warm weather, yeah for purple Fitflops. You're Beautiful!

Purple Fitflops, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

I'm linking up this You're Beautiful post with the busy, capable, funny, talented Jenny at Cheetahs in my Shoes. Please do go and have a look the other blogs linking up this week. (I'm sorry, but I still can't get the badge to work...I will keep trying!) 

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Sunrise over rooftops

One of the things I love about working in watercolour is the delicate shading one can achieve. Sometimes it works out better than others, but that's the fun of working unfinished, untitled!

Rooftops over Farncombe,
watercolour, 2000, Lesley Beeton

My colour palette for the watercolour study

Tones and shades, watercolour, 2009, Lesley Beeton

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Not sitting on the fence

Animal experimentation is always a sensitive subject, whichever side of the fence you sit. When I started out in medical research, almost twenty-three years ago, animals were used in all sorts of experiments, from radical surgical therapies to shampoo testing.

I personally witnessed some horrors in the name of science. It was fascinating stuff though, particularly the work done on developing novel surgical strategies for strokes, heart attacks and bone regeneration after motor vehicle accidents. I can’t say that I enjoyed seeing rabbits being used to test shampoo or make-up, and I’m happy that this rarely happens these days. I fully support campaigns against animal testing.

But, I also support those pioneering scientists who over the years have used animals big and small to test their hypotheses and make huge strides in science and medicine.

For example, life-saving surgery performed daily in many hospitals, putting a stent in a coronary artery, a main blood vessel supplying the heart, following a heart attack, would not have been developed if not tried in animals first. This surgery saves hundreds of lives every year. People who go on to live very productive lives after heart attack. Surely this is a good thing?

More recently, I have seen groundbreaking work carried out in genetically modified mice. These mice have been bred without a particular receptor (simply put, this is a grabber for chemicals such as drugs), which is believed to be key in addiction. This work describes how people are genetically pre-disposed to becoming addicted to cocaine or heroin. And it will help to provide strategies for treating a lost generation drug of addicts across Europe. The cost benefit of this treatment runs to millions of Euro’s.*

Photo caption : These cells are from a cell line derived from a human cancer patient, who died some time ago, but we have immortalised their cells to keep them going for research. They mimic human white blood cells in vitro.
Lesley Beeton (2004)

There is sometimes an argument for using alternatives to animal testing. I always prefer to use non-animal experiments. In fact, I have not worked with animals in twenty years, preferring instead to recruit human volunteers for my research. This is more difficult than it sounds. It often involves drawing repeated small amounts of blood from which I prepare DNA, the genetic material of life. And volunteers are understandably concerned about what scientists might do with that information. Consent is not required for animal experiments.

But ethics is required for types of experimentation. Morals and standards on ethics are required at all times. Public scrutiny is key to this as well, which is why I think it is important to talk openly about the work we do on animals. It is not sufficient to say that a committee of academics and vets approved the work, therefore it’s OK to do it. No, scientists must be called to account at all times.

The scientists who do this work conduct their experiments under the strictest conditions and scrutiny. Far from being hidden away, animal experimentation is a transparent necessity of science. The public has the right to know what experiments are being done in their name.

The problem is that there are some people who are so passionate about not using animals for science and research, that they endanger the lives of others. And that means that we cannot always talk about it openly. It’s a conundrum to which I don’t have a solution, just a plea to both sides. Maintain a dialogue, keep an open mind. Be respectful of each other. Scientists, especially in the UK, who use animals in their research are not evil people, taking over the world. I admit, there are less scrupulous researchers in other countries, but here in the UK, animal-lovers and concerned campaigners should be re-assured that the work is done with the very best intentions, in the best facilities, under the tightest regulations and conditions.

The sad fact is, that animal models are still needed for progress in many human diseases. Whilst it is true that whole animals such as mice or rabbits do not adequately represent the whole body situation in human beings, animal organ systems and cells are extremely useful for science and research. Non-animal models such as immortalized cell lines derived from humans, can only answer one question at a time, because these cells are taken outside the body and are not subjected to the same complex environment.

My mother died of cancer. She died from a form of lung cancer, for which there is no cure. She was sixty-six years old. She was too young to die. If scientists wanted to test a drug on animals, or design an experiment using animals to better understand the disease, I would be all for it. Wouldn’t you?

*Note: please understand that I cannot describe experiments in detail or identify scientists here.

This post was first published at The Camel's Hump.

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A puppy saved my life – Brin’s story

This story first appeared as a guest post at Christmas Pie Crafts. Thank you to Jill for hosting my guest post. I look forward to hosting a guest post from Jill in the very near future. What a really good idea, and very friendly blogging.

  

We never thought it would happen to us. Growing up in Johannesburg, crime was all around us, but somehow we were much more aware of danger then. We moved to a village in Surrey. It all seemed idyllic, just what we had imagined, and longed for. A large garden, neighbours separated by woods, no street lighting. Surely no evil would be lurking here.

Leafy Surrey, no evil here

How wrong we were. Just three months after moving in, still unpacking, decorating and renovating, a burglar broke in to our home.  He forced a bathroom window and ransacked our property. Nothing was left untouched. And he stole just about everything of value, some items of great sentimental value. Our lovely old rescue cat, Rosie, never quite recovered from the fright of it, and we lost her a few months later.

The Police came and rattled off the statistics about burglary in Surrey. It wasn’t very reassuring but we withstood the assault and moved on with our lives. It wasn’t going to happen to us again. We beefed up window and door locks, fenced the garden and secured the garden gates. No alarm system, we said. We don’t need it.

Oh, but we did need it. Four months later, coming home from work early on a Friday afternoon, I saw a man at the front door, inside the front door, inside the house. Almost in slow motion I jumped out of the car, trying to get the key in the front door, while dialing 999 and shouting at the operator for the Police.

Luckily for me, the burglar escaped through the broken window at the back of the house. The Police dog arrived minutes later and gave chase, but never caught him. He took nothing with him, but had caused several thousands pounds of damage breaking into the house.

We had a terrible weekend. I suffered from flashbacks, thinking about what could have happened if he hadn’t run away. I had run into the road to shout for help, but no-one could hear me. There was no-one around.

We ordered an alarm system, with monitoring and a link to the Police. We paid a security company to be first call, so that I would never face a choice like that again.

Darling Brin

And we found our darling Boxer dog, Brin. My saviour. Brin has the most effervescent personality. He’s a real human dog, very sensitive. And he loves his walks. It was because of him that I started to leave the house again. He depended on me and I needed to be brave. Slowly, the terrible migraines lifted. The little panic attacks receded. I actually started to enjoy the walks, too. And Brin grew into my steady companion. He’s a big boy, so provides quite a presence to strangers, too.

I can honestly say that little puppy saved my life, gave me courage, and showed so much commitment to our relationship.

Five months later we brought Themba home. Themba means ‘hope’ in Zulu. You can read Themba's story here.

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Monday mood board #5

My mood board theme for today is full of colour. It reflects the environment around me this week. And it also reflects my mood. I am by nature a colourful person. I can wear colours together that might otherwise clash, but I can get away with it. Today, for example, I am wearing turquoise and fuschia - mind you, I am just at home with the dogs and not doing anything posh!

Colourful, mixed photo, watercolour and pastel collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton

My Mother was a very colourful person too. But she was much more formal in her approach to colour, she was what you might call colour co-ordinated. Everything had to match. It was she who told me that I had to wear blue eye shadow because I have blue eyes! She had shoes in every colour, to match every outfit in her wardrobe. It took me days to sort it all out after she died. Many of her shoes were still in their original boxes, neatly labeled as to which outfit they went with. I felt sad giving her things away. I do hope they found good homes, with people who took as much pride in their appearance as my Mother did.

Now don't judge me too harshly. My Mom never wore black - ever. And she certainly didn't want mourners wearing black to her funeral. I wore red. Mom would have approved. 

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Physiology of grief

After the last few uplifting Spring posts and photos, it's back on topic today. That's not because I'm feeling down. Quite the contrary in fact. I'm feeling great, thank you. And because I'm feeling great, I can now put into perspective the way my body reacted to the grief at losing my Mother to cancer last year. Some have likened the grief process to accelerated ageing, with changes to metabolism, increased muscle stiffness, joint pains, loss of vitality, and a general state of 'foggy' head. I have experienced all of this over the last seven months. When you are going through the grieving process, though, it's just all part of the coping mechanism; not to pay too much attention to the individual effects, and rather concentrate on becoming a whole person again, even though you have lost a loved one, an important part of yourself.

Bluebell foliage, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

I have written previously about how my grief started before Mom died, because her illness was so extensive, we knew there was no hope. I don't know if this helped or hindered my recovery. I don't suppose anyone can tell. It affected my sleep, I suffered weight loss, aches and pains, and felt hollow inside. After Mom died, there was a brief period of well-being, mainly relief because Mom was no longer suffering, and that it was all over. I wasn't thinking about the future, just getting through each day. It wasn't a conscious decision; again, it's just part of the process. The mind taking over to protect the body.

The legalities of death and probate hit you at a vulnerable time, and I found that many of the companies who should have specific staff to deal with probate and help families are woefully ill-equipped to do so. Banks, building societies and HMRC are the worst. If I had had more energy at the time, I would have created a scene - perhaps I still will. And for me, it was the legal and financial stuff that set me back. It made me angry, and that was unhelpful. It wasn't anyone's fault that Mom died. I couldn't assign any blame, but those companies made it so much worse. 

It's tempting to want to put a time frame, or deadline, on grief. I knew I shouldn't but psychologically Christmas, Mom and Dad's wedding anniversary, Dad's birthday and Mother's Day all came and went with a slightly numb 'let's not cry' feeling. We planned a wonderful holiday to a tropical paradise. I rested and felt restored, but still came home feeling so tired. So tired in fact that those around me thought I was seriously ill. Two more weeks past, and slowly but surely I was able to exercise for longer, and more efficiently too. But the aches and pains have been slow to recede. Arthritic flare-ups have impeded by recovery, ligaments in my feet have been inflamed too. It's not been all bad. Not every day is painful. It seems to be when something else causes a small stress in every day life, that my resilience is low, and my body tells me so.

It's been quite difficult to find information on this topic. Most of what is out there is written from a complementary therapy point of view. It seems a little recognised topic on the part of the medical people. I have already questioned the GP's wisdom about just leaving someone to grieve after a significant bereavement. I'm not suggesting that drugs are required, simply that more attention needs to be paid to these physiological, as opposed to psychological, symptoms of grief.

Spring days, warm sunshine, wonderful colours are all contributing to the healing process. Human beings are after all part of the natural world. I am fortunate to be surrounded by nature, renewal and re-birth, living as I do in the countryside. So if like me, you are grieving the loss of a loved one, be kind to yourself. Understand that it's not all in the mind. Your body will be taking a battering too.

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Themba’s story

Themba is a delightful little Boxer dog. He is highly intelligent, spirited, even naughty. And he packs a punch. He’s tough. Which is just as well, given his health issues. He was advertised in the local paper. The Breeder wasn’t all that friendly but a little research turned up that she is a top breeder of Boxers and has been a judge at Crufts. Themba has a pedigree as long as my arm. He was also crypt-orchid, has a broken tail and has aortic stenosis. But apart from that, he’s ace.

Being crypt-orchid can be a problem, so he underwent a small procedure to remove the undescended testicles from his body when he was about a year old.

There is nothing we can do about his tail. I think it must have been damaged during rough and tumble with his littermates. He was born shortly after the ban on tail docking was implemented in the UK.

And then there is the aortic stenosis. This is a problem in Boxers, but there is a register, which is supposed to provide prospective Boxer puppy buyers with information. I only found this register by chance this year. Themba’s dam and sire were tested for aortic stenosis. The bitch has it. That in itself doesn’t preclude her from breeding (based on pure Mendelian genetics), but it should mean that the breeder tells buyers about it. She didn’t, but our vet is very good and picked it up straight away. And he has been seen by a cardiologist. There is no treatment required at the moment, but he may suffer from heart failure as he gets older. He has collapsed a few times due to over-exertion but there is no evidence that this is related to his heart problem.

The Breeder did offer to take him back, but as he could not be used for stud, I worried that he would be destroyed. So we kept him, warts and all, and I so glad we did. Brin adores him.

This story raises two important issues. One, dog breeders need to be brought to account. This breeder was highly successful. We saw both Themba’s parents and they were fine dogs. She was not a puppy farmer. We felt confident in our purchase. We asked all the right questions. Our puppy was Kennel Club registered. Shouldn’t the Kennel Club have told us that his mother was registered with aortic stenosis, albeit mild?

Secondly, our two puppies, both pedigree Boxers, came from very different backgrounds. Brin was bred in a family home. We met his mother and grandmother, both beautiful animals. We were interviewed by the breeder’s young children! He was completely socialized to dogs, cats, horses and children. A clear example of nature versus nurture.

We have had the Boxers in our lives for five years, and we couldn’t honestly say which one we love more. They are part of our family, and in case you are wondering, Themba means ‘hope’ in Zulu.


You can read Brin's story at Christmas Pie Crafts, where I am guest blogging today.

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I've seen the Easter bunnies

That's right. The Boxers and I are happy to report the first sightings of Thumpers in the Woods. Bambi has been around all winter, but there is a particularly encouraging moment in the calendar when the bunnies are about. Joy!

But along with the bunnies comes the hayfever. I felt awful yesterday morning. It took me an hour or two to figure out that the sneezes and itches heralded the return of hayfever to my life.

On our pleasant dog walk yesterday afternoon, I looked up and for a second thought I was in Midsomer Murders territory. No, there was no dead body. Just 'spooky man' in a coat climbing a ladder! He can do that - he owns the land. Have I told you that part of Midsomer Murders is filmed here? It does lend itself to the eerie, especially at dusk. And on that point, the sunset last night was spectacular. The house opposite the Woods must have had an incredible view.

The mouse in the veggie patch has been dispatched. It was reasonably easy, although it was a very fat mouse and contrary to the instructions on the mouse bait trap, the little creature did not crawl away to die. He apparently got stuck in the box and died there. Cue husband having to deal with that. Sadly, though, his big brother has dug up some of the seeds I planted in the greenhouse yesterday. The sweet corn seeds were sitting on top of the soil, and some of the courgette seeds had been nibbled and discarded. Going to move the mouse bait tonight.

It has been a lovely warm day today. The Boxers have been reclining on their day bed all day. Three loads of washing got dry. And Dad has planted his hanging baskets. All good news.

And apropos of completely nothing, the Footballer has been seen in the Village again. We thought he may have moved out of the big house, but I have seen him a few times (in my rear view mirror), sweeping up the grand driveway. I wonder who is with him?

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You're Beautiful - spring azalea

Mom loved a spring garden. She was particularly fond of azaleas. In South Africa, where I grew up, the small relation of the rhododendron was always the colourful palette in the spring garden. As I conducted my morning inspection today, dogs in tow, I noticed that the delicate pink flowers had started to open. A couple of years ago, under Mom's direction, we transplanted the azaleas, to group them together, pale and dark pinks and a very pretty white one. I am eagerly awaiting the flowering this year. I think it will be really lovely, and completely different from the large rhododendrons in the woodland part of the garden. I am very proud of my own garden palette. This one is for you, Mom.

Azalea, March 2012, Surrey, Lesley Beeton

I'm linking up this You're Beautiful post with the busy, capable, funny, talented Jenny at Cheetahs in my Shoes. I really wish I could get the badge to work...I will keep trying!

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It's genetic, isn't it?

Perhaps it's time to clear something up. I get annoyed when I hear the word genetic used out of context. For example, if a homeopathic treatment does not work it is NOT because of something genetic blocking the energy. It is because the homeopathic tincture is not used at a therapeutic dose (most likely), and not because of any interaction with a gene. 

Genetics is the study of how genes are inherited in a population. A geneticist for example will be interested in the frequency of gene variation, as it relates to a human trait or characteristic.


If something is genetic, that means it is an inherited trait. Take tongue rolling. The ability to roll your tongue is a dominant trait. If you have the gene for tongue rolling you will be able to roll your tongue. Try it now. Yes? You could be homozygous (+/+ two alleles) for the gene, or heterozygous (+/- one allele). No? You are definitely homozygous (-/- two alleles) without the gene. Tongue rolling is a Mendelian genetic example. Mendelian genetics demonstrates that our genes are inherited equally from each parent. We get one allele from each gene from each parent, as shown below. 

Many inherited traits, also called phenotypes, are the result of a number of genes. This genetic make-up which includes normal gene variation, is known as the genotype. Now, some cancers are inherited, therefore it is correct to say that they have a genetic link, but in many cases cancer is a multi-factorial complex disease, being caused by more than one gene or other factor. Many cancers are not inherited but occur as a result of a spontaneous gene mutation or gene fault, most likely in response to an environmental or lifestyle factor, such as smoking. Smoking could be said to be mutagenic (affecting gene function) or carcinogenic (causing cancer). I have previously written about gene-environment interactions here.


With this simple illustration, I hope you have understood the difference between genes, genetics and mutagenic. If this bite-sized guide to genetics has whet your appetite, you will find a good reference here.

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Waiting for Bill

Bill is our wonderful Milkman. He delivers three days a week. His arrival is announced by a sharp bark and eight legs going at full tilt down the passage to the bedroom window. I don't know what he must think. He has been delivering to us for six years, and three times a week he witnesses the ritual Boxer welcome. It's a friendly welcome. He always waves, and lights a cigarette before setting off again.

It's the same with the Postman, except that the little big dog sits under the letter flap, ready to take the letters from the postman. He is used to it now, there are no teeth involved. A stand-in postman might be surprised though. A builder working at our home once described the little big dog as 'licking with his teeth'. Hilarious, but a very good description.

The slightly wonky cat from across the road gets much the same treatment. He seems unaware of the rumpus he is causing, as he trundles around the driveway looking for a place to do his ablutions. He's wonky because his pelvis was broken in a car accident, and several thousands of pounds and a dozen or so pins later, he walks, just a bit crooked.

In spite of the lengthening days and the approaching Equinox, the little big dog's seasonal alopecia has returned. It was diagnosed last year and by June the hair had re-grown. We hope for a similar outcome this year.

We have been recording rainfall in Shackleford this year. I can confirm Thames Water's figures. We have had about half of the expected rainfall, although March is shaping up to be on target. The average rainfall for March in Guildford is about 35mm. So far, we've had 21mm. We could do it. In the meantime, I've bought more watering cans and we will look into getting a pump to pump water from the water butts onto the veggie patch. You can read my water rant here.

The recent wet weather, although good for the garden, has had some unwanted downsides. Star-shaped paw prints on the white duvet cover. I agree, the best place to be on a wet afternoon is curled up on the bed, but for humans NOT dogs!

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Monday mood board #4

The theme for my Monday mood board today is Green for GO! It's the Spring Equinox this week, the garden is ready and so am I. The passing weeks and the lengthening days make last year seem a very long time ago indeed. And so, today I have compiled a photo collage of green; things in my garden palette, which have reminded me about starting over, getting ready, steady, go. 

Green for GO! photo collage, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

What's on your mood board? Are you ready to go?
Pop over here for more of my photo collage work.

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Photo collage and composition

I'm enjoying my own little project in photography. The garden lends itself to photography at the moment; interesting colours and shapes everywhere. My point-and-click camera does a good job, but I am looking at getting something a bit more grown-up, to change my perspective on the world through a lens.

These are a small selection of my photo collage and compositions.

Hanging in there, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton

Maui, photo collage,
February 2012, Lesley Beeton 

Chocolate cupcakes, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton 

Mixed Spring composition, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton

Boxers, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton

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Soggy Saturday

Look what I made!

Well, it was not a good morning for clearing up the Churchyard (sorry). So I bunked off with the Boxers and made cakes instead. Who can blame me? Don't the Boxers look pleased with their effort?


The weather is disappointing today, as it has been so lovely this week. I got loads done in the garden, and went to Wisley gardens. 

Chocolate cupcakes with crystallised violets

Lip-smacking good!

Chocolate cupcakes with walnuts

Mmm, which one is mine?

I made these ones too!

The boys had a second sleep after their run, and have been playing indoor ball. They are ready for a bit of veggie patch work now (just found the little big dog starting to chew a gift I bought for a friend and had left on the bed!), though, so as soon as this is written I'm off!

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Spring into Wisley Gardens for Mothering Sunday

Mom loved the RHS Wisley Gardens. I gave her a gift membership for Mother's Day years ago, it was the best thing I ever gave her. Dad has taken on her membership now, but hasn't been for quite a while. I went yesterday, and the Gardens are looking absolutely lovely in their Spring-ness. The daffodils are out, although not completely. The formal planting in the little walled garden near the lily pond is delicious and inspiring. Even the ducks on the roof seemed to approve!

Orchid, RHS Wisley Glasshouse, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

Orchid, RHS Wisley Glasshouse, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

We wandered over to the Glasshouse. Preparations were underway for the Orchid Spectacular starting today. It was quiet, not full of people, and we even saw a butterfly left over from the display in February. Stunning.

Blue morpho butterfly, RHS Wisley Glasshouse, March 2012, Lesley Beeton

Two other lovely spring shrubs caught my eye as I was going round. The gorgeous Stachyurus chinensis and the sublimely fragrant Edgeworthia chrysantha.

Stachyurus chinensis

Edgeworthia chrysantha

The plant of the month for March is the Narcissus 'Tete-a-tete'. Mom always loved a Spring garden. 

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