Off The Edge Gardening

Judge:  Would the defendent, Ms Clumsy McGardener, please take the stand.  Place your hand upon the Royal Horticultural Society’s Encyclopedia of Gardening and swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  Thank you.  Let us proceed.

Prosecution Barrister:  Are you Ms Clumsy McGardener?

MCM:  I am occasionally known by that name, but I have many others.

Barrister:  That will do.  Now in your own words explain the events of the morning of 5 January 2014 at the residence of Spotty Dotty and Spotted Dick.

MCM:  Well, your honour and fine members of the jury, it was like this.  It was my first day back to work after the Christmas/New Year break and I was full of the enthusiasm and energy.  On reflection perhaps a little too much …

Barrister:  Just the facts please!

MCM: Sorry.  Mr Dick had purchased some new plants and had left them for me to plant as I saw fit.  One of them, a rather splendid Nandinia domestica “Obsessed”, was earmarked for a place near the pond.  Like the excellent gardener I am ….

Barrister:  We will be the judge of that Ms McG, please continue.

MCM: Hmmmm …… I decided to weed the area first.  This section extends up behind the pond and around the side, involving some mountain goat-esque manoeuvres.  Some of the stones surrounding the pond had weed growing around them and this I dutifully and at great risk to life and limb ….

Barrister:  Please, no need to gild the lily, the court is not interested in your heroics!

MCM:  Well I removed the weed.  A few minutes later I heard a loud splash.

Barrister:  How many minutes, 5 or 50, this may be important.

MCM:  Probably 5 or 10.  How strange I thought, one of the edging stones must have mysteriously been dislodged and has fallen in the pond.  When I went to investigate I was horrified to see the water draining away in a rather rapid and horrifying manner.  My first instinct was to run and hide, but decided to wait and see if it emptied completely and if I could spot any hole.  Whilst standing there I first noticed I was being watched.

Barrister:  Watched?  By whom?

MCM:  Ginger George, king of all he surveys.

Barrister:  And this made you suspicious?

Judge:  Order, order, do not put words into Ms McGardeners mouth!

Barrister:  Sorry M’lud, so what do you think when you saw him sitting there?

MCM:  I thought he had framed me, he had pushed the stone whilst my back was turned, he hates ponds, there aren’t even any fish in there (on reflection was just as well), and all that horrid wet stuff, surely it is obvious?

Barrister:  Thank you, you may now stand down.  Members of the jury, you have heard the evidence.  Was it Ms Clumsy McGardener who broke the pond or was she framed by George the saboteur?  You may retire to consider your verdict ……..

I was thrilled to be nominated by the multi-talented biking gardener http://thebikinggardener.com/ for the Leibster Blog Award.  Much humbled and flattered by this prestigious award I have prepared a short acceptance speech:

I could not have reached this pinnacle of my career, the inner sanctum of the blogosphere elite, without the support and encouragement of my family, long-suffering other half, friends and colleagues, …….. sorry what did you say, what do you mean it’s not that kind of award?  I don’t actually get a prize, no trophy in the shape of a clenched fist with trowel, or one of those enormous cheques for the short-sighted, perhaps garden centre vouchers?  What nothing?  And I have to answer eleven questions that Mr Bike has prepared and then think of eleven new ones and nominate five other bloggers with less than 1000 followers to do the same who then do the same.  They then link their posts back to my blog.  Are you quite sure?  No champagne, not even a chocolate muffin?  Oh well better get on with it ……

1  What is your favourite month?

I think it is April, such an optimistic month, when most things are still at the fairy tale phase and nothing has had a chance move to the horror film stage yet.

2 Strawberries or raspberries?

Raspberries without a doubt, served with clotted cream and/or ice cream we are talking about eating and not growing here?

3 What plant would you miss most if you could not grow it?

Tricky one this as I am quite a hussy on the gardening front with my favourites changing from year to year.  I think I will say salvias, but that could change by the end of this blog.

4 What crop (fruit or vegetable) do you find it easiest to grow and DO grow most regularly?

Apples, they just need a little pruning and to keep vigilant for the bugs.  We have two in our tiny back garden that crop very well.  This year we had to share them with the jackdaws.  Actually they didn’t share that much the greedy devils.

5 What is your favourite bulb?

I love the species tulips.

6 What is your favourite garden scent?

Smelling (!) is not my best asset but I would probably say a winter scent such as Clematis armandii or Daphne bholua “Jacqueline Postill”. 

7 What has been your biggest garden failure/problem?

At Cliffe it was definitely the deer, they were my nemesis.

8 Have you ever grown flowers for eating? (apart from cauliflowers!)

Not specifically but I do have a munch when I walk around the garden, daylilies, nasturtiums, I suck the nectar from the base of fuchsias…. just the usual when feeling a little peckish.

9 Who was/is your greatest gardening influence?

Christopher Lloyd was suitably irreverent to impress me.

10 Do you use a garden kneeler or knee pads?

I increasingly (as I am reaching my prime) use knee pads.  I think I need to invest in some better ones that don’t slip around all the time.  I am never quite sure which way up they go either!

11 What is your favourite garden insect?

I love grasshoppers and crickets.

Well that wasn’t too painful, I quite enjoyed it actually, so my nominees are:

http://thepaintinggardener.wordpress.com/

http://botanicallyinclined.org/blog/

http://pots-and-polytunnels.blogspot.co.uk

http://islandthreads.wordpress.com/

http://thetattoedgardener.wordpress.com/

OK so now time for my  questions (rubs hands together in pantomime glee):

1   What tool couldn’t you live without (ok you probably could but humour me!)

2  Do you ever listen to music when you work, if so what is your preference?

3  Cake of choice for tea time?

4  Favourite plant to grow from seed?

5  Is there a plant you don’t like?

6  What is the worst job in the garden?

7  To lawn or not to lawn, that is the question?

8  What is the best time of the day?

9  What gardening “rules” do you break on a regular basis?

10  What do you prefer, cold and dry or warm and wet?

11 What other hobbies, not horticulturally related, do you have (Mrs D cannot say painting!)

There you go, do your best and don’t forget to let me know when you have answered.  Actually anyone can answer, just for fun.  Now are you sure you haven’t reconsidered, a tube of smarties perhaps?

 

A gentle walk this afternoon diverted me from my snivelling for a while.  My spirits were lifted by bud upon bud, shoot upon shoot, a sky free from its usual dampening blanket and a camellia looking like an explosion in a Barbie factory.  More healing than a cup of Lemsip (other proprietary cold remedies are obviously available).

This mahonia leaf is a nigh on perfect match to the colour of my nose.  sniff sniff

I don’t bother with New Year’s Eve these days.  Gone are the wild parties of my disaffected youth, the conga has drawn to a halt, there is no more kissing of strangers or midnight choirs, just a glass of pseudo champers and an early night.  Do I sound like a champion party pooper?  The truth is that I am just eager for the new year to begin.  After the black hole (albeit a pleasant one) of pre-Christmas, real Christmas, post-Christmas and “anyone any idea what day it is?”mas I am eager to get going with this 2015 malarkey.  Ready to experience all those adventures lurking around the corner.  Ready to face whatever challenges this new year will bring.  So today, on the first day of 2015, I wish you the same as I wish myself – may we get what we deserve and may we deserve what we get.  Be brave and kind and a bit daft, listen to others, notice the small things.  And when things go wrong, as they undoubtedly will, I wish you strength and humour and a good friend to share the burden.  Oh, and most importantly, whenever possible fit in a sneaky cartwheel.  Happy New Year!

Yesterday, after a week of rain and gales, it was a pleasant change to experience some winter sunshine at Lavinia and Lionel’s.  The day was especially important as it was one of those milestones that we invent for ourselves but all the same are of consequence; it was my last day of work before Christmas.  For the record it turned out to be a very satisfying day.  It saw the completion (!) of Phase One of what will hopefully come to be known as The Grass Border and those plump alliums were planted before they shooted and shrivelled.*  The two L’s then fed and watered their grateful gardener in a way I don’t deserve (always a sucker for a muffin!) before I set off on my merry way.  There had been a couple of sharp showers but this small hardship was rewarded by a clear, bright and optimistic rainbow.  This ceratostigma seed head was looking fittingly seasonal in the low light and the acrobatic goldfinches will enjoy these tasty morsels if ever their fast-food station goes dry.  In the meantime we can enjoy their burnished beauty.

Happy Christmas and a peaceful New Year to you and yours.  May the world be a better place in 2015 and may we do what we can to make it that way.  love xxx

*As is generally the case Phase Two will follow Phase One .  When this will be and what it will entail is classified information.

Today I spent an interesting seven hours in the driving wind and rain hard-pruning a stand of oversized hydrangeas and fuchsias.  If I didn’t know any better I would say these shrubs had been mainlining steroids.  Looking my glamorous best in full waterproof attire with mud streaked visage and singing a medlay of christmas carols (generally only the first line, dum di dums and improvisation for the rest) I enjoyed myself in a rather masochistic way.  I discovered this tiny nest close to the top of one of the fuchsia mammoths, about 3m high but attached so firmly that not even a North Devon gale could shift it.  A little googling has led me to believe it could have been the summer nursery for a chaffinch family.  As the Discover Wildlife website describes “Decorated externally with lichens and cobwebs and lined with hair.”  So beautiful, the jewel in the crown.  I wonder whose hair they used?  Do you think that might be George’s shade?  I proudly took my find to George’s mum who tried to look pleased that I had brought her a stick.  I suggested that she should practice her “that’s a rubbish present but I am going to pretend I like it” look before Christmas.  In GM’s defence she hadn’t actually noticed the delicate little house nestled amongst the rather large twig that I was thrusting towards her.  In the end she was as charmed as I was.  Either that or “The Look” had been quickly perfected!

You know you are onto a good thing when your esteemed client comes into the garden to greet you with a steaming hot cup of coffee.  It is pouring with rain and not only is she wearing a natty pair of pink patterned wellies she is carrying a (broken) Peppa Pig umbrella over her head.  Pure class.  She tried to convince me the umbrella belongs to her daughter but I am not convinced. Luckily for me, bearing in mind the “heavy showers” that were in danger of ganging up to become “persistent rain”, I spent the majority of the morning inside their greenhouse pruning a delinquent grape vine.  This involved a little free climbing, many trips to the compost heap, a lot of bravery and no whoops’.  In my experience “whoops” is not a word to be used when either pruning or cutting hair, although in the past I have said it on both occasions!

My day summed up in a photograph.

The twig with a suspended water droplet symbolises my nose.  The weather was so damp I am now covered in a healthy layer of lichen.

I may have forgotten my hanky, but least I am perceptibly pollution free.

Every year it happens.  I go soft.  More accurately “softer”.  I skip my way through spring, summer and autumn singing tra la las with the odd yodel thrown in, barefoot with flowers in my hair.  Then winter does what it has been signed up to do, including such things as “finger numbing frosts” “never arriving but often threatened snow” “doom and darkness” “teeth chattering, leg bending gales”.  Of course I know the theory, but it is the physical experience that always comes as a complete shock to me, as if this strange new season had been invented just to spite me.   The wind is the worse culprit, it is what George’s dad called  “A lazy wind, it can’t be bothered to go around so it goes through you”.  It was indeed very lazy.  Once out of the inclement elements and back in the snug santuary of home it is nigh on impossible to get warm, “chilled to the bone” as they say.  I am not sure of the science of this claim but some evenings as I shiver whilst others melt I envisage my body like a human baked alaska.  Next you are inflicted with “glowing cheek syndrome” causing your face to beacon as if you are on your third large sweet sherry martini.   Another problem to address is the reluctance to ever ever ever remove your thermals and the associated health issues.  The shame is that I know it never gets really cold here, to some our best attempt at severe weather would count as a balmy spring day.  So there is no getting away from it, I have once again turned into a fully fledged softie.  If previous years are anything to go by I will toughen up quickly, which is just as well as we have only just begun.  I thought this little rose, gentle in bud, was feeling the same way as me.  It just had that look about it.