In an English Country Garden

Finally, Spring has shown the promise of activity. Better late than never. The orchard, (all 8 trees of it) are showing the first hints of colour and the garden's showing signs of life. That is, except for the pond where the frost has killed off all the frogspawn and it is now covered, again in weed. I am not a natural gardner. My peas are showing no interst in climbing the lovingly made terrace I built them and so far I my strawberry relocation scheme has killed off more than it has saved and unearthed a cat graveyard. I firmly believe house seller should alert buyers to the location of all deceased previous occupants if still at the residance. That put aside, today I rebuilt a raised bed, rehomed some rogue strawberries, chatted to a robin and generally felt like Beatrix Potter.