Garden Journal 2016

2016 is the Year of the Better Gardener, namely me. I'm going to spend all year doing my very best to be better, hee hee. Seriously, the plan is to concentrate on consolidation, rather than innovation, and enjoy myself. Hope you enjoy reading my 2016 Gardening Journal. Oh, I promise not to go on and on too much about the weeds, or the weather, or the lawns that need mowing, or the edges that need trimming...

Happy New YearHappy New Year...
I looooooove my New Year's Resolution for 2016. It is terribly sensible and suitable for a gardener with a somewhat random attitude. So far it's worked really really well. OK, there's only been one day to test it out. Here it is : I resolve to be a better gardener.
Evaluating success?Evaluating success?...
Imagine if I had KPIs for evaluating the success of my New Year's Resolution - to be a better gardener. Eek! That would be so pompous. It's enough that I enjoy myself. And at the end of each day I celebrate some lovely garden experiences, peep at my latest pretty photographs...
More, please...More, please......
I love mass plantings - lots of one thing in one place. That's why I cram seven pansy plants into one pot - to get that flowering pansy 'afro' hairdo look. And that's why I get cross - only four Alliums flowered in the perennials Garden last month. This month - only seven yellow Kniphofia flowers. I want many, many more. Much, much more! More! More of more! Please...
Happy-tired...Happy-tired......
Best not to write up the gardening journal after a really long, hard-working day in the garden. The words tend to sound tired, while the happy element (which is always present) somehow gets filtered out. But I'm always super-proud when I've done a large chunk of gardening. Love, love, love it.
What day of the week is it?What day of the week is it?...
Mid-summer, and time rattles along like a slow train. The Head Passenger-gardener dozes off, misses a few stations - oops! Where are we? What day of the week is it? Monday? Friday? And does it matter?
Happy, frolicking messHappy, frolicking mess...
Mid-summer, and time rattles along like a slow train. The Head Passenger-gardener dozes off, misses a few stations - oops! Where are we? What day of the week is it? Monday? Friday? And does it matter?
What about the Hydrangeas?What about the Hydrangeas?...
Eek! What about the Hydrangeas? They're flowering madly, and I haven't yet taken a single photograph. They are beautiful, and I haven't yet written a single gushing sentence. It's time to remedy this - right now. OK, so the lawns are wet and it's still drizzling. Watery shoes, wet socks... A problem? Shouldn't be.
New socks!New socks!...
I'm having one of those 'I am so lucky that I'm medium-old' days. That means that my knees and hips aren't too sore. The dog park is the social highlight of my day. And I get really excited by a new pair of socks. And I love being a gardener, but that goes without saying.
Lots of weeds...Lots of weeds......
OK. Here's what I should be doing every day this month. Weeding. Every single daylight hour of every single day. Add summer sunshine to the jolly decent rain we've had, and what's the result? Weeds. Lots of weeds. Short ones and tall ones. Frilly ones and sleek ones. Loners and gangs. Pretty flowered ones. Ones setting seed. Aargh!
Starting to finish?Starting to finish?...
I'm always running this question past my critical self. Isn't it better to start things and then not finish them, rather than not to start at all? Isn't it? I hope so. Because I am always finding the second half of things I've started.
Too hot to garden...Too hot to garden......
The never-ending story of Goldilocks the Summer Gardener. On the first day it was too hot to garden properly. The next day it too windy. On the third day she was too busy. Then the fourth day was too hot again. The fifth day was too windy - and too hot... When will it be 'just right'?
In a glazed dazeIn a glazed daze...
A new week, and a concentrated gardening week, please. In a big garden like mine it's easy to lose focus and wander around the borders in a glazed daze, without one's spectacles on, swept away visually by patterns and shapes. Tree trunk silhouettes, the sun shining through the veined Canna leaves...
Cats...Cats......
A sad February anniversary - this morning (three years ago) I lost Little Mac, my black and white catlet. But to balance out these quiet, reflective memories - enter Tiddles the tabby! Destructor of grocery bags, breaker of saucers, shredder of garden of magazines - the loudest, pushiest cat in the house.
Hello, March...Hello, March......
Hello, March. I think I'm ready for you - but not any of your madness, just the mellow bits of you, that is. Autumnal light, calm days, the garden cooling down, the roses flowering again, the slow demise of the dahlias...
Simplicity...Simplicity......
Dogs are such clear thinkers. They have a supremely simple attitude to life, and it works. I'm worrying about my dodgy knees, and jury service (I don't want to do it), and the weeds in my garden (so many). I get the dogs up. Woo-hoo! We're up! Let's doooooooo something!
One thing leads to another...One thing leads to another......
It so often happens that one thing (chopping overhanging Gunnera leaves by Willow Bridge) leads to another (shifting the path) which leads to another (deciding to chop down the monster Yellow Wave Phormium blocking the bridge and the path). That's what I'm in the middle of doing.
A rhododendron distraction...A rhododendron distraction......
Eight degrees Celsius! No gardening today - too wet and cold - so I'm off to the rhododendron nursery. It's having a closing down sale, hee hee. Dreams are free, and good quality rhododendrons are forty percent off. All my un-named rhododendrons came from this nursery, back in the early 2000 years...
The power of ten?The power of ten?...
Early this morning, just as the sun was rising, I wrote a detailed list of ten gardening things to do (sing along if you know the tune, hee hee) Ten tasks, all in the small garden area in and around the back lawn. Ten things, just ten. The power of ten. Ten hours work? Hopefully not ten days, hmm...
Axe that FlaxAxe that Flax...
What a gardening fraud I am. A visitor has asked to come and see my 'beautiful garden'. So of course I've said yes. This morning, after replying, I raced outside in the heat and started pulling weeds out of the driveway in a 'first impressions' frenzy. But what about the second, third, and fourth?
Well-weathered and wiser?Well-weathered and wiser?...
It's Easter. I've checked out two nursery sales so far, but have not been tempted. When I was a younger, more excessive gardener I could load up the car three times and still go back for more. But now I'm well-weathered and much wiser. Because it's not what you buy that makes your garden great. It's how you look after everything.
TOO SCARY!TOO SCARY!...
Sitting on the patio with my morning cup of tea, a piece of paper, and a pencil. Whenever there's a lot to do in my garden my instinct turns to list-writing - as if this will magically make everything 'alright'. But I'm not going to. My list would be THAT long! TOO SCARY!
Waking up...Waking up......
Waking up grumpy. Silliest reasons. New Zealand lost the cricket World Cup Semi-final. One of my Jazz choir songs is too fussy-hard to teach. Another midnight wriggler (AKA a mouse), thanks to Minimus the cottage cat. And the possum right outside my window making gargling zombie noises. So rude.
The Merino Bachelor...The Merino Bachelor......
I'm about to launch myself into the garden. But first I have to babysit the dogs in the house while Non-Gardening Partner shifts the sheep around. Hee hee. It's time for the merino version of that well-known reality programme (secretly watched by me), The Bachelor.
The Last Rose...The Last Rose......
The garden feels and looks quite autumnal now. And still the roses insist on blooming. That's what I like about having so many roses - there's always a late bloomer determined to be the last rose standing. John Clare (a pink David Austin) usually wins this competition.
Autumn again...Autumn again......
Autumn is in the air - there's a sense of change, and the garden seems rather relieved that slower days are coming. Silver Birches by the cottage are turning golden, Dogwoods and Maples are reddening. The autumn sun is magical, transforming leaves into flowers.
Trying to finishTrying to finish...
I'm having another 'trying to finish' day in the Hen House Gardens. Another 'feeling small' day, measuring success by the wheelbarrowful. A day trimming large branches with my little bow saw, while the bellbirds whistle at me. Save our trees!
My next clean-up...My next clean-up......
I've already chosen my next autumn clean-up location - the Wattle Woods. There's a lot of mess here. The Wattle seed pods have fallen, ornamental fountain grasses have gone to seed, Phormiums need their dead leaves trimmed...
Fork!Fork!...
I've had a revelation - with respect to garden tools, that is. When working upright, I've always been a shovel-and-spade kind of girl. Today I used, for the first time ever, a ladies' garden fork. Wow! Impressive. Brilliant, in fact. It works really well. I love it!
April...April......
The end of April - daytime temperatures still shirt-sleeves warm, nights just a little snuggly-cool. Autumn tasks are piling up like - ahem - leaves on the lawn. They're starting to flutter down even in the lightest of breezes.
Too dreadful!Too dreadful!...
I can lose confidence so quickly. Like today. I decide to start clearing the house gardens. I am full of cheer. Aargh! It all looks dreadful, the dahlias have given up, and there are weeds and gum leaves everywhere. Like I've been AWOL for six months.
My modular approach to MayMy modular approach to May...
My modular approach to May - and indeed most gardening months, of which I enjoy twelve - is as follows : I keep on doing lots of little bits of everything. Sounds pretty lightweight and inoffensive!
Always telling myself off...Always telling myself off......
Gardeners write to inform, to share opinions on this and that, to give good (and not so good) advice, to praise one plant and dismiss another. Hmm... I often write to jolly myself along, to tell myself off when I've been garden-naughty. Sorry about this!
A windy week...A windy week......
Our balmy (barmy?) autumn weather continues. It's far too warm, there's no rain, and hot, strong nor-west winds are forecast for the coming days. Next-door's dusty top-soil will soon be heading this way, so I've even closed the lid of the grand piano.
Admirable AgapanthusAdmirable Agapanthus...
I love Agapanthus! The big, bulky, weedy species blues. The ones that other gardeners sniff their noses at. Not me. They are a country gardener's dream come true - especially when they're free, the winter's aren't too frosty, and a difficult dry area needs planting.
Sneaky winter!Sneaky winter!...
Winter is sneaking around the house and garden, nipping at my nose - a reality check for late May. Time for some new rules : be winter-thrifty! Light the wood-burner first thing in the morning. Wash woolly socks in proper stuff, by hand. Embrace and enjoy winter gardening.
See a gap...See a gap......
My Agapanthus planting continues. Now just three heavy monster clumps are sitting in the trailer, waiting. Where to plant? Aha! See a gap, plant an Agapanthus, hee hee. But don't plant a rose. Roses can do a dreadful girlie sulk. 'Not speaking to you! Don't like this garden'.
Pre-winter?Pre-winter?...
What's in a name? Lots! I have lots of pre-winter tasks to start, continue, and finish. That's 'pre-winter', by the way - as in not too cold, certainly not too frosty, and nothing too wintry-serious. Nothing that could send a robust gardener scuttling for shelter...
Think BigThink Big...
Just as well I am in a think-big mood. I still have clumps of Agapanthus to divide and plant. Now a huge load of horse manure has arrived, dumped in the paddock by the driveway. Luckily I don't make too much of a habit of kissing my dogs...
Gardening tangents...Gardening tangents......
In theory I may be thinking big. Plant all that Agapanthus! Spread the mountain of horse manure! But I'm achieving small - going off on far too many gardening tangents. But if the processes of gardening cover an infinite sphere, then the tangents always reappear, hee hee...
SAD?SAD?...
OK. I'm going gardening. But I don't want that moochy, muddly Ms Slow And Dreamy, like yesterday's version. I want Ms Sharp And Decisive! I want to sort out that narrow Driveway Garden strip. I want to move mountains - of horse manure, that is. I want to shift the sad roses...
Cleaning the Jellybean BorderCleaning the Jellybean Border...
I did it - something which I should have done a long time ago. Well, to be gardening-honest I started doing it. Cleaning up the Jellybean Border. And telling myself off. This clean-up is well overdue. Very naughty!
A little light trimming?A little light trimming?...
The Great Mid-Winter Clean-Up continues. Now I need to sort out Middle Garden - the paths, the Phormiums and Gunnera by the water, the trees and shrubs. A bit of shaping, a little light trimming... Yes? No!
The winter solsticeThe winter solstice...
I love the winter solstice. The days lengthen incredibly slowly at first, but never-the-less they do, inexorably (great word, that). And so the garden peeps shyly towards spring. And I have blossom news. The first Prunus is flowering - a sprinkling of pale pink prettiness. Awwww.
Tougher that the toughest...Tougher that the toughest......
I'm wearing my gardening shorts and it's mid-winter. How tough am I? Tough as the toughest of the tough gardeners! Tougher! I reckon I'm pretty strong, too. Today I've been woman-handling more giant Gunnera, sawing through the prickly stems and pruning the leaves...
Connected...Connected......
I don't live in a gardening bubble. I'm connected to the real world out there. The cats and dogs are all in the house draw for the football tournament Euro 16. The winner gets a slab of steak. And I've voted for Phexit (the removal of over-sized Phormiums).
Yeay for my Froggy Suit!Yeay for my Froggy Suit!...
My Great Water Race Winter Clean-Up continues. I'm wearing my new fisherperson's waders (AKA my froggy suit). The hours just float by (like the cold water) while I am snug and warm inside the suit. I'm getting the garden ready for real indoorsy winter, and the Tour de France.
Mid-winter winner...Mid-winter winner......
A mid-winter winner - the first proper Camellia, the original baby pink shrub at the side of the house, is just starting to flower. I use the word 'proper' because Weeping Maiden was trying to flower weeks ago. I reckon she was just confused by the mildness of autumn.
Bed-Gardening again...Bed-Gardening again......
Brr... A frosty morning. But I'm already ahead. At dawn I did some very successful bed-gardening, nose tucked underneath the duvet, electric blanket on low, cottage cat Minimus snuggled in behind my knees. I totally cleaned up the Hen House Gardens! Just like that. Magical.
The Seed CatalogueThe Seed Catalogue...
Oooh. Goody. The seed catalogue has arrived in the post. Old-school, a coloured picture catalogue, with that new-paper hot-off-the-printer smell. Grabbing a pen and putting ticks by things I like the look of is such fun. Even if I do place my order online.
The sweetest little path...The sweetest little path......
Oh dear. The top of the Wattle Woods needs a make-over. New shrubs? Definitely. Soil improvements? Better start barrowing in that horse manure. Shift a straggly rhododendron so the path can be shifted? Yes, for sure. And the continuing saga about the wee Wattle Woods path...
Cleaning up The Hump...Cleaning up The Hump......
Yesterday I had 'the hump' with my garden - it was the sunniest of blue-skies winters day, and perversely I was feeling moochy and lazy. This will not do! I've picked myself up, dusted myself off, and I have a timely plan. I'm going to clean up The Hump!
Still Cleaning up The Hump...Still Cleaning up The Hump......
I am loving my garden this winter - much more than my house, hee hee. I love working with the outside things, while the house floors gather dust and the carpets gather cat and dog fur. And now, the second installment of my clean-up of The Hump.
A single-task gardening dayA single-task gardening day...
It's unusual for me to have a fully focussed, single-task gardening day. Unless I was mass-planting a thousand polyanthus, for example. Wow. If that was my day, would I feel proud? More likely bored! Variety is much more fun.
Listen to the garden...Listen to the garden......
I've been thinking about the patio garden. Do I want all these ferns? And the huge, sprawling Anemalenthe grasses? What sort of garden is this anyway? I asked myself. There was no answer, so I asked the garden. A tiny voice answered : 'flowers please'...
Winter welcome...Winter welcome......
OK, winter. Welcome to my garden. Your rain is timely, since we are below average for the season, even for the year. As a lapsed statistician I still believe in means and medians. But here's the deal. I don't moan about being stuck inside. And you stop this 'snow to sea-level' nonsense.
More to winter gardening...More to winter gardening......
There's more to winter gardening life than dreaming by the log-burner with a gardening magazine. More than lists, or plant catalogues. One has to get out there and do things. Wear gloves, wear warm boots, work under cover in the glasshouse...
Cold, frosty, sad...Cold, frosty, sad......
It's been frosty cold these last few mornings, a bit too cold for Escher to spend the night outside in his kennel, even with his suit on. Non-Gardening Partner is my in-house indicator of coldness. Last weekend he abandoned his shorts for jeans. Eek!
Wanted : Weeding FairyWanted : Weeding Fairy...
Wanted : Weeding Fairy. Must be able to work magic. Apply within... Yes, I need a Weeding Fairy. Until yesterday my desultory efforts consisted mainly of random bend-overs in passing. Yesterday I 'grasshoppered' around, never settling, leaving behind unfinished business. I didn't even get my knees dirty!
A gardening genie?A gardening genie?...
Imagine finding an old bottle in the compost. Whoo-hoo! A gardening genie! So what to wish for? A self-weeding garden border? Too sterile. Everlasting roses? Oh no, dear me no. Total gardening control? Aargh! I'd miss the fun of failure, puzzlement when treasured plants don't thrive, gratitude (maybe misplaced) for all the cute little self-seeders....
The Humble HelleboreThe Humble Hellebore...
So many little flowery treasures, as my winter garden wakes up. But the 'Flower of the Week' award goes to the humble Hellebore. Lime green ones (oh so subtle) are flowering in the Driveway Garden. Around behind the glass-house is my main clump, where a variety of pinks, dull reds, whites, and all shades in-between live...
Find something to enjoy...Find something to enjoy......
Earlier this morning, sitting up in bed with my cup of tea, I made a list. But it was all over the place, so unstructured (like my garden). So I subdivided it into five sub-lists. Then I organised headings. Then I wrote down the best item : Find something to enjoy in every gardening minute. Ha! That's the easy one.
Planting and shiftingPlanting and shifting...
I'm busy planting and shifting things around, a task which requires thinking ahead. A place for everything, and everything in its place. More specifically, roses, perennials, peonies, and hostas are NOT allowed to sneak into vegetable gardens or potato patches.
Trivial chatter...Trivial chatter......
OK. A military grade flashlight could be handy to expose sneaky weeds, and visibly smoother skin has always been a gardening 'must-have', that goes without saying. But has the chink in my spam armour finally been uncovered? Galapagos Island cruises! Hmm... A cruise?
The season of the gardening shortsThe season of the gardening shorts...
It's spring, the season of the gardening shorts. Sun screen on the face and hands, remembering to wash the knees in the day's end shower. Aha! Taking photographs of daffodils, blossom, spring shrubs. Marvelling at the trilliums and peonies sprouting. Splendid spring. And my birthday month...
Kerplunk!Kerplunk!...
I always panic whenever Non-Gardening Partner appears out of the blue to do the lawns. It puts me in a spin. Have I left any hand tools in the grass, to be spat out by the mower blades as the shear pins break? I scurry around like a woman possessed. Kerplunk! A resonating bang, metal on metal. Oops.
The spice of gardening life...The spice of gardening life......
The nicest thing about having a big garden : variety! There's always a new place to work in. A wooded shrubbery one day, the edges of a burbling watery stream the next. New sights and smells. A new mood, a different ambience...
Prime!Prime!...
I am a prime again! I am referring to my recent semi-mature birthday, which I am still celebrating. How time slinks on by! Just a couple of days ago I was divisible by eleven. Small thought - I hope it's at least twenty more years before my fascination with numbers fades and I just start thinking 'old'.
Buster!Buster!...
Oh dear. Please prepare for an 'I am so lucky' gush. Tissues! Peppermints! Today - one of those days. It started with Buster the black cat, missing for last night's supper and this morning's breakfast. Where was she?
Gardening with Mr BrownGardening with Mr Brown...
I'm gardening with Escher again - Escher, the big brown dog, whose nose leads him into country-trouble. He has slipped back effortlessly into the gardening groove. Just the quickest, sneakiest of visits next-door to roll in something stinky, then back to snooze in the sun...
Doing silly things...Doing silly things......
Sometimes I do really sensible things (like planting rhododendrons in the right place). And sometimes I do silly things (like planting ground cover Hypericum, and a Golden Hop without providing any sort of climbing frame). Hmm. And then I have the nerve to talk about 'plants behaving badly'...
Ducks and daylight saving...Ducks and daylight saving......
Ducks. Ducks! For three weeks now an irate mallard duck has been splash-landing on my pond at 5am. It then announces itself loudly : 'Darling I'm home!' On and on, insistent, noisy enough to wake up a slumbering gardener (me) in Pond Cottage. I think about hurling something at it...
Stern words...Stern words......
Stern words. I have not run out of marmalade for the breakfast toast, or fair trade organic coffee for the morning slurp. Nothing hurts. All my fingers work. My cats are happily snoozing. There is absolutely no excuse for being in a moochy mood.
Dogs and blossom...Dogs and blossom......
Another reason why I love my dogs. Repetition does not bore us. We are off to the dog park. Yeay! It doesn't matter that it's yesterday's dog park, and we will probably go to the same dog park tomorrow. We love it - we do it, over and over again. Hmm... Rather like gardening should be, methinks!
October resolutionOctober resolution...
Wow. A new month. A new resolution - why not? This month I resolve to maintain a delicate balance at all times. That means weeding and watering as well as wandering around gazing at beautiful things. Putting things in as well as pulling things out. Creating as well as destructing.
Gardening on the edge...Gardening on the edge......
Getting the spring garden looking good isn't all about weeding. It's more to do with surfaces and edges. The trick is to make sure that the garden's seams and boundary lines are well-defined, and the paths are clear and passable. That's what the non-weeder in me thinks, anyway!
D is for Decisive...D is for Decisive......
Good morning. It's time for a D-Day. That's D for 'Decisive'. I am not going to diddle and dawdle around. So first of all we are off, decisively, to the dog park. But should I wear my down vest? Or maybe my blue and black wool jacket? But will it be drizzly?
Morning MusicMorning Music...
I love the music of an early spring morning - my own personal amateur orchestra of common-garden birds, squeaking as they practice their trills and tiddley-poms. Higher up in the trees the bell-birds chime their distinctive triadic signatures. Bird number two! You missed out a note!
Sweet spring...Sweet spring......
Sweet spring, and the first roses! Yeay! Shouts for gardening joy. THE FIRST ROSES! In amongst the late cherry blossom, the Clematis montana, the little blue forget-me-nots and the October rhododendrons. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses (thanks, George Herbert, Welsh poet).
A four-piece dog pack...A four-piece dog pack......
I've been having fun looking after the four-piece dog pack. I've gained confidence, and relax while working in my garden, since my black dog visitors (Rosie and Bear) are well-behaved and stay close by. Their noses don't lead them into temptation, nor do they seem to get bored easily.
A A 'girlie' garden!...
I love the light, fluffy look that distant parts of my garden have in late spring. The annual forget-me-nots in the lawns, the Choisya flowering, the Dogwoods and the later flowering cherries. It's the hundreds-and-thousands, icing sugar and marshmallows look. A 'girlie' garden!
Edgy...Edgy......
It's so terribly exciting when one has - ahem - suddenly found a sorely missed gardening tool. My good edging shears have been hopelessly lost for ages, and I have been looking at the lawn/garden boundaries with dismay. Using scissors would just be too silly, even for me.
A private gardener...A private gardener......
Grr... The tiniest of growls from a private gardener. I love gardening in my own, private gardening bubble - dogs included. But I have become a neighbour magnet. Like today, settled in and weeding happily by the boundary. As if on cue, along trundles next-door's hired help on a noisy green scoopy machine.
Darling garden!Darling garden!...
November (late spring) is an amazing month in the garden. The 'Wow, look at that!' factor. Everywhere I see new things - irises, roses, rhododendrons, perennials. Every colour is my favourite colour, every flower is the prettiest. Darling garden!
What sort of day is it?What sort of day is it?...
What sort of day is it? A 'Busy as a Bee' day, where I bumble around doing lots of this and that? Maybe - but then I buzz off in a totally different direction to collect more stones. I am re-building a little stone retaining wall by the water, in the Dog-Path Garden.
Oh dear. How sad. Never mind.Oh dear. How sad. Never mind....
'Oh dear. How sad. Never mind.' My thoughts, having just been into the Hazelnut Orchard to check on and photograph the archway roses. Never mind that it was drizzling and the grass was really wet. Oh dear - the roses! How sad! Someone (me) forgot to prune them and tie in the canes.
Midnight rockMidnight rock'n'roll...
Feeling a bit dozy after a broken night's sleep. There was a 7.5 magnitude earthquake, centred about 100km up-country from us - quite a prolonged earth dance, a midnight rock'n'roll session. When the shaking stopped a huge 'wave' of water swooshed out from my pond. Such a funny noise to hear in the night.
Back to n-n-n-normal...Back to n-n-n-normal......
Back to n-n-n-normal. I was weeding in the Island Bed (reverently) on top of dearly departed Fluff-Fluff the cat. One easy thing (pulling out the forget-me-nots) led to another, not so easy (Lamium has spread everywhere). Then even more alarming - cleavers everywhere, and issues with the big Choisya.
Super Weeding WomanSuper Weeding Woman...
Deep breath. Take off flower-patterned gardening galoshes, and do a twirl in the middle of the kitchen. Turn into Super Woman! Please - even if it's just for one day. There are arch villain weeds out there, and too much Forget-Me-Not traffic for an old lady to safely cross the garden street. Or was that Super Man?
Rose Alert!Rose Alert!...
Rose alert! It's overcast, the garden is full of roses, so I want to glide around taking photographs. And of course I then want to race inside, look at my pictures, crop, and publish them all. Aargh! Oh, and write loads about how beautiful all the roses are this year. How the Allotment Garden is THE perfect place...
Off-Duty!Off-Duty!...
I've been off-duty for a few days, arranging new music for my jazz choir. During that time the hot, dry winds have flattened many of the foxgloves and most of the peonies. And what the wind hasn't brought down the big whooshy irrigation (running overnight) has. And up have come more and more weeds...
Garden-proud or House-proud?Garden-proud or House-proud?...
It's December! Usually about now a tiny twinge of 'house-proudness' sneaks in, and I decide to set up all the spare rooms with clean sheets (beds, even) - and well-dusted reading lamps, bookcases full of enticing summer reads, little soaps and towels... For a hoard of imaginary bed'n'breakfast guests?
Moanin? Me?Moanin? Me?...
I've got all caught up and distracted writing another arrangement for my jazz choir - a groovy bluesy song called 'Moanin'. I could rewrite the lyrics quite nicely to fit the garden, which I am yet again neglecting, if momentarily...
Summer! Yeay!Summer! Yeay!...
Summer! Yeay! Not too hot to garden, and I've already spent three hours in the shade trimming more of the Big Banksia rose down. Summer weather demands a sensible gardening strategy, and of course there's always time to choose a shady seat, sit, and read...
Tiddles the Tabby...Tiddles the Tabby......
<So, Tiddles the tabby with too many toes - where are you? Tiddles was missing for breakfast, which usually (and hopefully again this time) means she's been busy hunting. But I'm worried. So the dogs and I have been on a Tiddles hunt...
I blame the rose!I blame the rose!...
Serious memo to self. Take note! Nota bene! Do not, not, NOT let a Banksia lutea rose grow up into an old plum tree again. Never, ever again! Because - surprise, surprise - the tree has cracked badly from old age, encouraged by the weight of the rose. And down it has all crashed...
Christmas!Christmas!...
Good morning. And I don't mean 'Good Moaning'. This is the new Christmas me, moan-free. I'm back to basics : one oldish woman, two hands, legs that still work, a back that still bends, and two wonderful dogs for company. And a wonderful, vibrant garden...
Merry Christmas DayMerry Christmas Day...
Merry Christmas Day! Merry Christmas to my puffy knee, the result of an oldish-lady fall last night after Carols by Candlelight. The candlelight was the problem - I tripped over an electrical lead in the dark, kerplunk onto the grass...
Chain-sawingChain-sawing...
Boxing Day seems like a great day to do some chain-sawing, right? It's overcast, and there are no pressing social eating engagements (until lunchtime). This morning's plan is to rev up Non-Gardening Partner - any suggestions?
I didnI didn't plant it...
I think it works like this. It's the 'But I didn't plant it' syndrome. Something I didn't plant is too big, or too much of a nuisance, simply ugly, weedy, invasive, ridiculously placed, spoils the view, or wrecks the neighbouring shrubs. And so...
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