The Old Man I married and his green thumb.

Mr Woog is like an old man in many ways.  He rubs his hands together when presented with pastry and a cup of tea. He checks the weather forecast on the weekends and plans his activities around them accordingly. He visits the doctor to monitor his blood pressure and he grumbles at politicians on the news every night.  He is also constantly turning the music down.

After work,  he likes to change into his “gardening shorts” and walk around the garden pulling things out. snipping things here and there and tying bits of branches to other things with bits of string. Mr Woog will quietly mutter “You little bastards…..” and flick aphids off things.  He spreads blood and bone with abandon, much to my displeasure, and is a member of something called The Diggers Club which sends him a magazine and little boxes of plants.

Mr Woog was anxious recently over the Plant stealers rampage in our street,  but that seems to be forgotten now that the weather has turned warmer and his most favourite of favourite things have sprung to life.


Yep. I am married to an old man (who is actually younger than me) who likes to grow roses.  And right now WoogsWorld is in full bloom,  so I took my camera out into the garden to share a few of my favourites with you.

This is actually a geranium he picked from his Naygi’s garden before she died. A nod to his Hungarian roots.
She also collected succulents and most of these have grown from clippings that Mr Woog took from her garden.

Now these are some old lady hanging plants you do not see much these days. And beyond them is my office, although some people call it a laundry.

This is my all time favourite rose. It smells like a lolly shop.
 The Mazda looking extremely spring like after its Spring Clean last week. Let me know if you want to know what a bag of forgotten fruit looks like when it is left under a seat for a long time.

Not a rose but still pretty
 About 2 seconds after I took this shot I trod barefoot on a motherfucker bee.
 Oh so here is a story!  This ceramic clown was given to my Mum when I was a kid and it sat on the mantelshelf ever since. I hated it. I do not like clowns and this one had a flower instead of a willy. So of course Mr Woog loved it, so Mum gave it to him,  and I said it could not come into the house so now it sits outside the kids window. Ewwwww…. those vacant eyes…
Here is Doug Woog getting swamped by a purple flowering bush.

 While I was pulling the stinger out of my foot, the worlds crankiest Post Man went by. This is him.

 But not all things in the garden are beautiful. This is a cactus that Mr Woog has had forever. It reminds me of a retired porn star’s privates, riddled with venereal disease. And cobwebs. Gross.

So that is our garden.  Bursting with colour, birds and one less bee.

What is your garden like?
 Not your lady garden, but the stuff outside your windows.