Day 4 ...

... in which I am revisited by the flu fairy.
Today was the day Mr Brown & I were going to go to Milan to meet Ilva in real life and sip exotic cocktails. Unfortunately it's also the day the container with the boats finally arrived. Several days late with much stress and fraughtness filling those days.
Since Mr Brown's boat needs a little fiddling (about 8 hours worth) before they can even get it out onto the water, Milan had to be cancelled.
To say I'm disappointed is a bit of an understatment, but since it's the sailing that got me here I suppose I can't hold it against Mr Brown. Also, the promise to revisit Italy, soon, without the bloody boat, has eased the pain a little.
So, since I'm unwell and feeling like poo, I'm just throwing some more pictures at you today.
The Flora of Malcesine.

The Fauna of Malcesine.

You're welcome.

A post or 2 or 3 ago ...

... Zoomie asked for a bit of an update on various odds & bobs.
The furry girls are just fine and dandy. Full of beans and growing their winter coats, so, plush and lovely. The taddies, there's not as many as we started with. I hope they aren't eating their siblings. No sign of any legs yet and still with tails attached. And, even if it wasn't requested, some Autumn in the Garden news.
The Camellias are coming out. As always the Fried Egg Camellia is blooming nicely. And the Hot Pink one is just about to explode into a riot of gaudy colour. And, it looks like a bumper crop for passion fruit is on its way. It was a pretty crap one last year, since we'd had to put in new vines. This season there's dozens of big pendulous green fruit, just sitting there, making sugar inside.Perhaps our Small is helping things along this time.

Been in a bit of a funk lately ...

... nothing real, just the usual summer ennui.But today I saw a couple of things that pepped me right up.A roosting of 4 of my favourite native bees, the Blue Banded Boys.A purple and white flounce of snail vine flower.I'm excessively happy, which just goes to show, simple things are really quite wonderful.

Our neighbour's ...

... jacaranda has transformed our backyard.The view from the back porch is lovely.Standing just next to the fence and looking up makes you smile (you should always look up, you never know what wonders you may miss if you only ever look down or straight ahead).The fallen blossoms cover the ground and despite the fact you know that the sea of purple will soon be a pulpy, slippery brown mess, you just don't care.You keep spotting the fat purple flowers it the oddest places, adding a touch of periwinkle nobility.
That is all.

We went shopping for lavender yesterday ...

... for bee attraction and feeding purposes and came home with a new tree.We were not in the market for a new tree, we've stuffed just about as much tree-life into our tiny top paddock (front garden) and the long, thin backyard as we thought possible.
Only, in wandering through the new nursery we found recently (Mr Neighbour put us onto it, he'd bought his new Japanese Box plants there) looking for lavender I inadvertently ambled into the mature(ish) tree section. I found the tree, I fell into a trance of lacy foliage stroking and soft murmurings of leafy desire. It was quite clear to Mr Brown that I had fallen in love and, because he's a lovely bloke who knows me so well, he sidled up and whispered in my ear "shall we buy it?". A joyous yelp was his answer and onto the trolley it went, company for the pink & purple lavenders. I was still in a tree-patting blissful state, with a grin splitting my face, while Mr Brown handed over the credit card.
One of the nurserymen spotted me, "beautiful isn't it?"
"Yes, and it's coming home with me!" I trilled. I may have come across as a trifle unhinged.
We aren't quite sure if it's an Acer palmatum 'Dissectum Atropurpureum Ornatum' which has an Autumn colour of brilliant orange; or an Acer palmatum 'Dissectum Inaba Shidare' which has an Autumn colour of crimson. I have a feeling it's the latter but I guess we'll just have to wait until Autumn to be 100% sure. That's ok, we can wait (no, the label on the plant is no help, it reads Acer, Weeping - Short).
There's been quite a bit of rearranging the garden to accommodate Ms Acer. Mr Neighbour helped Mr Brown move the lemon tree from the front garden down to the back.You may remember we planned to move the lemon tree, after the great lemon theft of May 2010! Well moved it is, no more middle-class marketeers are going to get their thieving hands on MY lemons!And lemons there will be. Just look at those blossoms.
We moved the little native lime tree too, it's a spiky little bugger and we had it near a path. Mr and Mrs Next Doors' little girl isn't walking yet, but she will be and I'd hate to be responsible for a savage eye poking. Mr Brown built that stand and painted it with leftover paint so it matches the window bars! (which I helpfully cropped out of the picture, gah!) How's that for thrifty McHousehusbandry?
The new tree is going into the spot where the lemon used to live at the front, in the huge pot that was our failed fishpond experiment. See, we recycle too.
The lavender went in. We selected fairly large specimens so the bees would get something out of them this season.
We've also put in a Buddleia. And a Heliotrope for the bees' dining pleasure.
I'd better hear some industrious buzzing soon.

Jasmine ...

... that is all.

I found a bluebell at the bottom of the garden ...

... we used to have lots of bluebells in Canberra, pink & white ones too. I think this fellow hitched a lift with the snowdrops we dug up when we left!
I was beginning to despair of any winter roses this year. They usually crop up much earlier, but here's a lovely pink one. And tucked away, deep down the back, a white one with a blush of pink at the base.

Sprinter and Sprummer ...

... some botanical boffin has called for some additional seasons, so Australia's quite different seasonal shifts may be more accurately described. I quite like the idea although the suggested names are a bit naff.
It may not technically be Spring round these parts, but it so is, if you know what I mean.
These weren't here last weekend. These were. So were these. I do love this time of the year.

The tale of the $300 Mushroom ...

... actually $335 mushroom.When we popped down to Canberra last week I accidentally spent $335 on a ceramic mushroom. Yep, I really did. I really must pay more attention when signing credit card slips.
I thought I was spending $35 and lived with that delusion until Mr Brown telephoned the other day to ask what I'd spent $300 on in a Canberra flower shop?
"No way I spent $300 in a flower shop, I only bought that mushroom and it was $35".
"Well, it's $335 on the statement".
"Fuck, no, fuck, shit, no fucking WAY I'd have paid $300 for a fucking mushroom, it has to be a mistake."
"Do you still have the slip?"
"Of course I fucking don't" (I tend to get quite het up about things like this) "Fuck, call them, it's got to be a horrible cockup."
He did, it was, the $300 was refunded with an "oops, sorry".Anyway, here it is in all it's glory, with some Hellebore shots thrown in for good measure.

Yes, I'm completely aware I'm a step away from garden gnomes, I'm seeking professional help.

Step out into the Brown-Mouse House back yard ...

... and you immediately begin to think of things like passionfruit souffle, passion fruit shortcake, passionfruit squeezed all over vanilla ice cream and just plain old sucking the guts out of a passionfruit or two while you stand in the back yard. The side fence is covered in those beautiful promises of passionfruits to come. And at the very end, a single vine hangs down being all art deco at me. And no, of course I could not resist peeking close. Lucky for me Rupert is such a sticky beak too eh?