Nid flwyddyn dda i'r rhosod

Nid flwyddyn dda i'r rhosod ~ Not a good year for the roses

“Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.”
—Kurt Vonnegut

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O'r diwedd roedden ni wedi cael cyfle i weithio yn yr ardd.  Dim ond awr, ond roedd e'n ddigon i lenwi'r bin gwyrdd a fydd yn cael ei gasglu ddydd Mawrth. Bydd e'n gasgliad olaf y flwyddyn, rydw i wedi clywed. Mae'n rhyfedd oherwydd mae llawer o docio i wneud ar amser hon o'r flwyddyn, felly byddan ni'n cael pentyrrau o doriadau tan y gwanwyn. Wrth gwrs mae'r cyngor yn ddweud ein bod ni'n gallu ymweld ar ganolfannau ailgylchu... ond nid heb gar.

Coelcerth efallai?

Heddiw roeddwn i'n palu allan y planhigion rhosyn nad oedd wedi blodeuo o gwbl, oedd dim ond wedi anfon egin ymdreiglo ar draws yr ardd. Felly allan daethant nhw i wneud lle i flodau sy'n blodeuo go iawn (rydyn ni'n gobeithio).

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At last we had had a chance to work in the garden. Only an hour, but it was enough to fill the green bin that will be collected on Tuesday. It will be the last collection of the year, I've heard. It's strange because there's a lot of pruning to do at this time of year, so we'll have heaps of cuttings until spring. Of course the council says we can visit recycling centres... but not without a car.

A bonfire perhaps?

Today I was digging out the rose plants that hadn't flowered at all, that had just sent up shoots tumbling across the garden. So out they came to make way for real blooming flowers (we hope).

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