After the last post, there was a small superstitious part of me that expected to spend the weekend cowering indoors as the Weather Gods proved their existence by unleashing an awesome display of blizzards, gales, plagues of frogs and the like – especially as I’d invited a an assortment of bike bloggers along to enjoy the delights of cycling in Bigtown and beyond. However, in what is either proof of their non existence, or else a cunning double bluff, the weather gods decided to send the blizzards elsewhere, and rewarded us with chilly sunshine – even confining the one heavy shower to when we were ensconced in the cafe setting the world to rights over soup, coffee and cake.*
And this morning, though I woke to the sort of red sky that gives shepherds anxiety attacks, we have had nothing but light breezes and sunshine, albeit with a bit of frost. I thought I’d take the opportunity to go out and start cutting back the remnants of the summer’s flowers but with the hollyhocks still shooting upwards – or in some cases, having not quite recovered from the summer’s rain, sideways – I didn’t really have the heart.
As this is the first time my hollyhocks have flowered I have no idea if it’s normal for them to still be going strong in November; I’m just grateful that they are. Hold onto your hollyhocks indeed.
Oh and the cold? Not a trace of it remains…
*In the interests of completeness, I should mention that it did also manage to spit rain at us out of an entirely blue sky but only when we were within sprinting distance of a pub. Which hardly counts, really.