Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun watch - have you got close bosom-friend of the maturing sun?

3 watchers
Aug 2019
7:04am, 16 Aug 2019
113,988 posts
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GregP
All a bit mist-and-mellow-fruitfulness here in the Garden Village of Chelmer.
Aug 2019
7:07am, 16 Aug 2019
40,830 posts
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McGoohan
No bosoms here, friend or foe
Aug 2019
8:51am, 16 Aug 2019
9,902 posts
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SarahWoo
Just grey and breezy here
Aug 2019
8:58am, 16 Aug 2019
42,779 posts
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Velociraptor
I have a maturing son whom I would also consider a close friend, but it's been 25 years since my bosom featured in our interactions.
Aug 2019
9:03am, 16 Aug 2019
10,441 posts
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MazH
My bosom has been fairly disappointingly old looking since a very young age.

It’s almost now on a par with its demographic average.

Maybe by the time I’m 60, they’ll be considered perky

Or maybe not.

Overshare moi?!
Aug 2019
12:54pm, 16 Aug 2019
4,675 posts
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Eynsham Red
😲😲
Aug 2019
12:59pm, 16 Aug 2019
17,888 posts
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Nicholls595
Not sure about apples and vines and gourds (very Life of Brian), but I'm worried that my runner beans are going to be enjoyed by the in-laws while I'm away eating pasties for the next fortnight.
Aug 2019
1:00pm, 16 Aug 2019
114,002 posts
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GregP
They still going? My sweet peas are all but done so I assumed runners would be done too by now?
Aug 2019
1:01pm, 16 Aug 2019
17,889 posts
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Nicholls595
Not up here in the frozen North. Still got a passable display of sweet peas on the back of the bean row too.
Aug 2019
1:03pm, 16 Aug 2019
17,890 posts
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Nicholls595
No red tomatoes though, last year's heat wave made me too optimistic, I've planted everything outside this year instead of the greenhouse.

About This Thread

Maintained by GregP

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

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