Off The Edge Gardening

The top ten reasons why being a gardener is so great (assessed at today’s date, it may very well all change tomorrow):

1.  Seeds
   For me the joy of the amazing miracle of germination never diminishes.  This is true whether it is as easy as a lawn of cress or needs quadruple stratification, nicking and soaking whilst doing the hokey-cokey before just one little leaf seed appears.  A subsection of this category is “seed collection”, a tic that I cannot shift in the unfailing desire for the thrill referred to above.
2. Cuttings
   The sight of a delicate searching rootlet groping out of the bottom of a pot is ever satisfying.  The root above, escaping from its nursery, is from a cerise flowered cistus (to be honest long over due potting on).  If they make it through the winter there will be four more wonderful plants in the world.  And I made them!  Of course I didn’t really make them but I helped them along a little, which must count for something.
3.  Plant Sales
   Recently I purchased a Hamamelis x intermedia “Jelena” for £5.  Reduced from £44.99.  I nearly fainted.  Need I say more?
4.  Flower buds
   The buds are often more exciting than the actual flowers.  The anticipation is the perfect part, the promise of things to come, as they swell and flirtatiously emerge from their casing.  When the plant in question hasn’t flowered before, it is almost unbearably fraught.  Will the bud fall off before blooming?  Will some hungry passer-by consider it an opportune snack?  Or will I get caught napping and miss the wondrous event, only to return and find a shrivelled memory of the glory that had gone before?  Stressful, but in a good way.
5.  The People
   At the risk of being taken behind the cycle sheds and being beaten up for being a creep, one of the best things about my job is the people I come across in my professional life.  Be it clients, other gardeners or nursery folk they are all entertaining, generous and appreciative.  If they aren’t then I just move on out …..
6.  The Seasons
   Only when you work outside can you truly appreciate the changing of the seasons.  It is not about dates it is about signs; smells, sounds, sights and feelings.  The first haze of spring green, the buzz of high summer, the ripeness of autumn and the still centre of winter.  These things are immovable and inevitable, there is something very comforting in that.
7.  Cake
   Home-made, shop bought, chocolate or carrot, I am not fussy.  There should be a class at horticultural college on this subject.
8.  Wildlife
   There is nothing better to raise the spirits than a close encounter with the wild side of life.  It is a privilege to work in close proximity to the inhabitants that lurk in many of our gardens. Frogs, toads, slow worms, birds and bees, badgers and foxes.  Even the more (note I am not saying “totally”) domesticated creatures give me great joy including puppies, pigs and ponies.
9.  The Weather
   Sun when rain is forecast.  Rain when the water butts are empty.  Early morning mists and cool breezes on a sultry day.  All most welcome.
10. Doing Something Positive
    Attempting to create something more beautiful or productive than before is a marvellous thing. As is helping a tiny part of this beautiful earth become less poisonous and more nurturing to flora and fauna.  To spend your day trying to enhance our environment, in however small a way, and sharing that experience with others is a feeling very hard to explain.  It is an amazing feeling.  It makes me happy.  I would recommend it to everyone.  It is good for my soul and hopefully other’s too.

And for all these things I count my blessings.

Investigations into the Great Pasty Theft continued at The Farm today.  CSI scoured the site looking for crumbs, rejected crusts or even signs of the plastic wrapping, all to no avail.  It is becoming evident that we are up against seasoned professionals.  Tiny was keeping tight-lipped about his part in the misdemeanour.  We are hoping that one of the lop-eared sows will squeal.  (Sorry)

Autumn sunshine + flower spikes of Miscanthus sinensis “Adagio” = something to remember

Occasionally I struggle to think of even a few words to accompany my meagre photographs.  On these uninspired days some will arrive eventually and, to give them their due, they rarely let me down completely.  Today, however, my problem is one of too many words.  A lexicon is zooming around in my head, bouncing off the sides in a truly chaotic manner.  Do you remember when you were little and you ran too fast for your legs to cope with and so fell over?  That is what I feel like today, but with thoughts instead of feet.  What should I mention first and what will I have to omit about my day at RHS Rosemoor?

Shall I mention the excellent company?  It would be only fair as Torrington Tina and Crystal contributed greatly to this wonderful day.  They were perfect companions both during our extensive wanderings and later scoffing raspberry & almond cake and rosemary & chocolate shortbread in the restaurant.  What is more TT came bearing gifts, a box of delights including Aloysia triloba, Salvia elegans and other delicious morsels.

What about the weather?  Bright and almost cloud free, warm enough to be coatless but not so hot as to induce any unladylike perspiration.  The light was flattering for photo and folk.

Or perhaps I should mention the wonderful gardeners?  Kind, generous and oh so very very clever.

Surely we can’t ignore the vistas, the landscape at this time of year is punctuated by brazen bonfires that will not expire until the wind whips off the last burnished leaf.  Or perhaps the restful pine forest with its fern carpet leading to the reflecting lake, so mirrored you could skate upon its surface.  The potager with black kale and nasturtium, the curtain call of the rose gardens, sizzle of the hot garden, all contained by stately yew hedges freshly sculpted by a master mathematician.  Harry Potter (thanks TT) conifers move only when heads are averted striding through flowering grasses and bamboos.  And the gentle meanderings of the winter garden, preparing for its moment of glory.

Then of course there are the plants, the commonplace as cherished as the rarity.   Beech rubs shoulder with Zelkovia, aster with isoplexis.  None are forgotten; bog, carnivorous, scree, shrub, alpine and herb, all are here.  Labels once noted in shabby notebooks are now photographed for later reference.

The sum of these many and marvellous parts is hard to calculate, I would imagine the result is a very large number.

A yellow rose, and its not in Texas.

This burnt toffee tagetes is a welcome interloper, emerging from a packet of Naughty Marietta seed.  She was supposed to be a blonde but turned out to be a brunette.  More Liz than Marilyn.  I’m not complaining, in the low autumn sunshine she is a real beauty.  She was naughtier than we imagined.  I do love a rogue.

This is just one of the myriad of individual flowers covering the elegant spikes of Verbascum chaxii.  Beautiful in entirety, wonderful in isolation.

The first truly chilly start of the season.  It began with drive through retina-melting low sun interspersed with patches of clichéd moorland mist.  On arrival at Lionel and Lavinia’s I was surprised by the forgotten feeling of early morning cold and damp.  Coats were scrambled for, shoulders slightly hunched, work the antidote to dankness.  Shrubs were draped with cauls of gossamer, lawns diamond studded.  Then the promised warmth slowly unwrapped us, first jackets, then fleece were stripped.  Finally sleeves were pushed up and brows wiped.  On cue the speciality of the house was welcomed, reviving Mexican lime cordial, previous shivers all but forgotten.

As you can see the infamous Pasty Pinching Pony Posse are finally behind bars, which is just where they belong.  Earlier this week one of these marauding bandits went into Slasher Sean’s bag and helped themselves to his cheese and onion pasty.   To add insult to injury they then squashed his banana.  At the time SS was distracted, he was probably polishing his chainsaw, and only caught sight of the villains making a hasty retreat.  So who actually performed the dastardly deed?  Was it Pippy the Kid who raided the rucksack?  He may be babyfaced but it is reported that he led the great breakout of 2015.  Could it have been Wild Tiny Hickok?  Do not be fooled by his small stature and youthful good looks, he is a demon in minature.  Or perhaps it was the old timer Quickdraw McMuffin?  A master in deception, with years of experience in criminal activities.  The trial continues …….

Another physically demanding day at Max’s house.  The first task of the day was to relocate the contents of two large plastic compost bins full of bone-dry partially digested vegetation.  We then took turns in wheel barrowing this potential soil improver up the north face of the Eiger to the new composting area.   On my part there was much huffing and puffing on my journey upwards with the odd dramatic slip, slide and boot spin.  Undigested roots and twigs were sorted out to act as first class kindling on the bonfire at a later date.  I wondered why the trug never got full.  Then I realised that as I put the sticks in, helpful Max was taking them out again.

The second task was to dig up a chaenomeles.  Sounds simple.  In fact it turned out to be a monumental task involving spades, forks, trowels, pruning saw, mega choppers and an axe.  And two very able workers.   There were a few bad words but plenty of laughter and we ended the day with all body parts intact.   It was a puzzle and we solved it.  In the process we made a very big hole, or meteorite crater as we like to call it.  Max knew to stay well away.