rocket, sweet rocket

The chair has been hung again, and as you can see, Nature has not been unproductive in the intervening year. You can see the first year's setting here. That's sweet rocket that's grown up since. The leaves are edible before flowering, after that they're bitter.
I'm really just posting to show you that picture. Have I any other garden-related news? Well, we had to buy a new lawnmower (first new lawnmower ever?) because the wheel fell off the old one--the plastic inner disc just shattered, in that permanent way plastic does. The table that used to sit in the backyard (visible in the video of the deer) also disintegrated, and I replaced it with a wooden table meant to sit outdoors, or at least on a patio.
The backyard is looking properly welcoming, I think, in this pause before Nature's goddamn bounty starts falling from trees. Bees buzz in the comfrey & borage & sweet rocket. It's been sunny both Saturday and Sunday, instead of devolving into windstorms the way it did last week.
Finally! with (lots of ) help from Paul, Shona, and Mark, I got the arbour up under the alba roses. That incursion and windstorms shifted the tall canes to cover half of the garage door--not an aid to Mark getting into his workshop. So I spent some time yesterday and today seeing how many of the canes I could save from pruning by tilting them in the other direction, to hang over the arbour (it was either that or detach the arbour and shift it to the garage door). To my amazement I got all of them out of the way, hurrah! though I'm hoping to encourage them to climb over the garage roof instead of drooping onto the lawn.
Have been planting peas and beans and climbers under the trellis alongside the driveway, and scattering poppy and canterbury bell seeds in the spot under the bay window. This means a return to regular watering, I fear, trudging about with a watering can early in the morning, since our hoses always seem to come to some premature end.

I am not, I admit, an enthusiastic or skilful gardener. One reason I prefer to toss seeds about rather than buy seedlings is because I feel more guilty killing a seedling than I feel when seeds don't come up. That anything does grow or produce fruit / peas / berries / beans / flowers under my hand is a source of astonishment every time it happens.

photo credit: Mark Shier medievalwares.com