Off The Edge Gardening

The other morning OH said to me “there were two young women on the television” “oh yes” “and they said how much pressure they were under to be perfect, was that the same for you?” “um, no”.

It got me thinking.   Yes, I’m afraid I’ve been weeding again.  I am very vulnerable to excess of thoughts whilst in this condition.

I thought, what a terrible way to live, with the belief that nothing less than perfect will do.  Perfect exam results, perfect hair, perfect boyfriend, perfect job, perfect children.  An unachievable goal which means you spend your life unfulfilled and frustrated.  It goes part way to explain the incessant selfies, the public yearnings for approval, the need for friends to say “you are beautiful” “you are wonderful”.  No it was not like that for me and I pitied them.

Then I thought, but I am guilty too.   I discard any photographs with a miscoloured petal, or blotched leaf.  Although I don’t use photoshop I often crop my pictures, getting rid of an unsightly defoliated twig or spent flower.  Perfect plants, perfect people.  They really don’t exist.  Well except me of course, I am just faultless!

Here are some roses, they are less than perfect, they are wonderful in their imperfection.

 

This autumn lark is not so bad after all, I’m quite warming to the idea.

I am definitely going a bit soft in my old age.  Previously a staunch member of the Anti-Pink and Fluffy Society, I am increasingly finding myself attracted to the very powder puff flowers I railed against.  This peony flowered hollyhock on the Mantle Estate was not helping my resistance.

What a stinker of a day! Rain from the get-go to sun-set.  It is probably best to remember more clement times than dwell on the incessant mizzle.  So that is exactly what I shall do.

Here we have persicaria enjoying the late summer sun.

Now that feels much better.

What is the opposite of Internet Troll?  Could it be Pixie or perhaps Elf or how about Nymph?  A creature that is benignly mischievous but definitely one of the good guys.  I need to know because I am trying to introduce my latest guest blogger, Archie the Wonder Dog.  Yes, that’s right, a dog.  

AtWD has been my on-line champion.  Always ready with a kind word, a like or a share.  What is more she is an accomplished sewer, making clothes, patchwork quilts and other such mysteries, the secrets of which have passed me by.  You can find tales of her amazing crafting at http://archiethewonderdog.blogspot.co.uk/ . Quite how those little paws manage to thread the needle is amazing.   As for reaching the sewing machine pedal ….. well perhaps there are special doggy adaptions.  Just between you and me, I am not absolutely convinced that Archie is really a dog.  It doesn’t really matter, Archie is lovely.  See what you think …….

When Gill asked me to write a guest blog (so long ago that I can’t remember when it was *hangs head in shame*), I hadn’t a clue what I’d write about on a gardening blog? And one which frequently makes me laugh out loud or marvel at her succinct way with words? Okay then *laughs nervously*

After a few days, a glimmer of an idea formed and I started writing in my head. I’ve continued to do so up until the very point where I forced myself to sit down at the laptop and get typing, and here’s the thing: I’m no longer going to write what I thought I’d write.

I thought I’d write about how my two hobbies (sewing, particularly quilting, and gardening) have a lot in common: you start with an idea, you add lots of pieces, you faff around a lot and worry that you haven’t got things quite right, you add some yellow (or white), you move a few things round, you ask friends and loved ones what they think (and sometimes you even listen to them!) and, eventually, you step back and either realise it’s marvellous as it is or you know exactly what to do to make it marvellous. And then you start on the thing and the joy is undiminished by having done it before. In fact, the joy seems to grow with your experience!

Instead, I find myself thinking of what sewers and gardeners have in common; the people rather than the skills.

Sewers and gardeners are very friendly and approachable: there is, on the whole, no prickling of backs when someone mentions that they, also, dabble a little in sewing or gardening. Instead, that person is embraced wholeheartedly and introduced to lots of other friendly sewers/gardeners. If you go to a sewer’s house and admire a piece of fabric, you will, more often than not, leave with a piece of it (along with many others) in a bag; if you visit a gardener’s garden and admire a plant, you are bound to leave with a labelled cutting, some seed or even part of a plant which has been dug up and split so you can take some with you, and maybe some spare pots so you can grow on some of the seedlings you’ve been given. Both sets of people have a generosity of spirit at their heart. Perhaps it’s because both skills are often passed down the family and learnt from each other? The skills and knowledge are shared, and shared freely. Neither sewers nor gardeners feel that knowledge is to be hoarded zealously and eked out to only the highest bidder. No, it is to be shared freely and joyfully, and there’s a reciprocity inherent in both loves: even a beginner has an insight to offer, be it some seeds they got from a plant someone gave them, their granddad’s tip on how to water in new plants, or a nifty way their mam showed them to set in a zip or tie a knot.

The only thing I’d say when going between the two sets of people is this: wash your hands before touching a quilt you admire – generosity of spirit is all well and good, but if you get manure on someone’s fabric/embroidery/newly-finished silk shirt then you’d better have a good tip to share about getting rid of it!

The Hilton rather than Travelodge, methinks.

Plans are afoot at The Farm.  We have decided to plant an orchard in rough patch of land adjacent to the vegetable garden.  Gorse and bracken are perhaps not the ideal starting point, but much has been cleared already and don’t forget we have Farm Force at our disposal.  For this is not to be any old orchard but a heritage one, full of old Devon varieties.  A worthy attempt to give a home to some of the rarer fruit trees, grown for years in this county and especially adapted to our unique environment.  It is unlikely the fruit they bear will be air brush perfect, or uniform in size, but they will have personality, to my mind a far preferable trait.

This morning Slasher and myself did some test pits on the potential site and the results were better than expected.  The sun shone and we imagined blossom filled trees full of pollinators, seating areas full of appreciative guests and the severe scrumping controls we would have to put in place (tigers perhaps?).  We talked logistics and protection from beasties, access and diggers. Emails were sent to specialists, research began in earnest.  Cider may have been mentioned more than once.  It is beginning to look like it might happen.  We shall try very hard not to choose varieties purely because of their name.  Except of course Farmer’s Glory and Fair Maid of Devon, and naturally Spotted Dick.

Later this afternoon the ponies showed their approval of this soon to be idyllic spot, although I think Tiny may have have gone a little over the top in his enthusiasm.

Delicious!