Off The Edge Gardening

A Short Hike

My mind has been on overdrive. Not bad thoughts, just a noisy constant irritating chatter that I can’t seem to tame. I am having trouble getting to sleep and waking late with a headache. This will not do. Sleep is my specialist subject, I have never had trouble with it before. The number one suspect is lack of exercise. Although I have been trying to get out and about, going for short but leisurely walks, I fear these have not been enough.

This morning I did a little yoga, trying very hard to silence the nattering, with limited success. Then after lunch I set off on my own, intent on striding up and around Hillsborough, the rugged hill between ourselves and the sea. Both ancient hill fort and nature reserve, we are very lucky to have it almost literally on our doorstep. It was chilly, with intermittent blusters of rain, but long before I had got to the top I rued wearing quite so many clothes. Three quarters of an hour later I stepped back in the house, flushed and thirsty. Good medicine.

Six on Saturday – Time Flies

Six on Saturday time again. The weeks are passing quickly and soon I will be back at work. I am half looking forward and to half dreading this. I will be very unfit, I am little nervous I will hurt my foot, and it is bloomin’ cold out there! But on the plus side I will see all my lovely clients again, watch spring arrive in their gardens and have the joy of helping them plan for the future. I spent one lovely day in my own garden this week, and I picked a good ‘un. It was sunny and warm and the ground was easy. Not a great deal was achieved, except a lot of pottering and pondering. Perfect. Now on to what I found during my rumagings.

Our first picture is of the emerging foliage of Anemone coronaria ‘Bordeaux’. As I am “on the wagon” at the moment, this is the closest I am going to get to a bottle of red. I planted them in the pot where the Hedychium ‘Pradhani’ lurks, they will be long over by the time that exotic creature wakes.

Next we have a blushing Euphorbia amygdaloides var. robbiae, the wood spurge, looking like it is contemplating flowering. This plant had a severe chop back last year after it was decimated by some strong winds. Now it is a sturdy and strong specimen. Rather like myself. Admittedly I have never needed a chop back. Next to it you can just about see the browning foliage of Salvia corrugata, which although a little tatty around the edges is still flowering. Rather like …. you get the picture.

Now for Miscanthus nepalensis, whose golden tresses are now turning to silver. It has done very well this year, for a young ‘un, and I am hopeful that next year it will be even better.

There is not a single fruit left on the pyracatha, stripped bare but for a couple of manky looking specimens. As far as I am concerned this has negated its reason for existence, to me it just represents pain. However, I am sure whoever has feasted on the succulent orange baubles will be looking forward to next year in anticipation. It will therefore stay.

This was a hooray moment, pulling back the mat of dead monbretia foliage and finding these ruddy shoots below. They belong to Paeonia mlokosewitschii, known to her friends as Molly the Witch. She was a gift a few years ago and has yet to flower. This year, it surely will be this year. Someone has been having a bit of a nibble, hopefully I have now deterred them.

Lastly we have Pelargonium cordifolium var. rubrocinctum with friend and associated poo. The caterpillar is so perfect in its Kawasaki greenness, and the matching heart-shaped leaves with tiny scarlet pin heads at the end of each tooth equally as wonderful. We could do without the poo in the picture, but that is nature for you. And yes, I let the caterpillar alone. And yes, I realise that soon all will not be perfect.

Thanks for hosting this shindig to the caller of the dance The Propagator, long may he rule!

Pond

What was to be done on this wet and miserable day? Why not head off to the woods? Hero, OH and myself went to visit Rambling Ron. Although we had heard tales of Ron’s few acres of woodland on the edge of the village, none of us had ever visited. Rumours of a newly dug pond heralded a self-invite. As arranged he was waiting in the road to direct us up the rough lane to the entrance of his land. “I didn’t think you were going to come” he said. “We are not fair weathers” we replied. We wandered along the grassy way, fern flanked, cautiously made our way down a slippery slope, stepping over mossy fallen trees to the virgin pond. It is fed by a spring that flows from a rocky outcrop higher in the wood. Native planting has begun around the margins, there is more planned. “Wildlife will come” we said, “It has already” he replied pointing out a deer print at the edge of the pond. If we have a hot summer Ron may well find some other wildlife in this large pond. Myself and Hero have already been planning our wild swimming forays.

Naturally we had packed provisions for our road trip. We stood at the head of the lane supping warm tea and coffee and scoffing stollen, all the while listening to tales of these woods. Promising to come again when the bluebells begin flowering, we headed home to warm up with home-made broccoli and stilton soup, buttered sourdough bread for dunking.

This pathway caught my eye and my imagination. Next time, hopefully a little more sure on my feet, I will find out what lies beyond the fallen tree arch.

Venus

Torrington Tina came a-calling this morning. After a nifty about turn, we headed off along the coast road, bound for Combe Martin. We parked in the car park above the beach where the waves were heaving white and headed off to seek adventure. Which was possibly a little optimistic as CM was mainly shut. However we found a fine bakery with a small cafe attached and drank coffee and chatted without repetition or hesitation for an hour and a half. It was wonderful. As we left TT bought Mr TT a sticky bun. I bought my OH nothing because, as of today, we are on a healthy eating regime. It was a kindness.

Yesterday was OH’s birthday and, amongst an assortment of other things, I bought him a Venus Fly Trap. Although he didn’t say so, I couldn’t help but feel that he was underwhelmed by this gift. I can’t think why, Venus is the goddess of love after all. This fact may have been lost on him. I can’t be certain, but he may well be thinking that TT is much better in the present department.

Six on Saturday – Firsts

You cannot get away from “Firsts” at this time of year. Wipe the slate clean and start all over. There is a lot to be said for that. A good approach to life. As the year tootles along these firsts will become fewer and far between, but not yet. And today was full of them, perhaps ad nauseam. It was my first time scrabbling about in the garden thinking “what on earth am I am going to take photos of and isn’t it about time the gardener sorted out this chaos” whilst trying to avoid the gaze of the curtain twitching neighbours who are nodding to each other in a knowing manner. It was my first proper gardening session. My first time driving since the leap of faith that was unfounded. And they are all good firsts. OH has a man cold so I offered to go to the supermarket. As I got in the car, turned on my music and shot off up the road I felt liberated. Torrington Tina told me that the worse thing about her injury was that she couldn’t drive and until earlier I hadn’t realised quite how much I had missed it. Later pootling about in the garden, getting reaquainted, I felt positive and inspired. So it is in this frame of mind that I present to you my first Six on Saturday of the year along with my first mention of our leader The Propadoodle.

My first picture, is of Fat Ol. He has been mentioned before and is my No. 1 favourite cat that doesn’t live in my house. I love him because he is big and ginger and has an extremely high-pitched meow. In human terms, he looks like a docker but speaks like the John Inman. And I love even though he poos in my pots. He accompanied me on my rummage before retiring to more important pursuits such as sleeping and snoozing.

Next we have my Tibouchina urvilleana, although you may not recognise it as such. The threat of imminent frosts meant a quick wrap around with horticultural fleece, not enough but I didn’t have much and there are plenty of other needies. It is still flowering beneath, which is a little bit sad. Shopping list for Monday includes more fleece.

Now we have a very persistent pelargonium. Situated in a pot at the front of the house, the land of perpetual winter gloom. This morning I picked off mouldy leaves and spent blooms. It won’t have any protection, there is neither room nor inclination and there are several around the gardens. It is every pellie for themselves. Who knows what the rest of the winter will bring, it might make it through!

Now for some pomegranate seed ….. not really, this is the burst seed pod of Sauromatum venosum. I sowed my first seed of the year today. A very restrained two. Big Orange Tomato and some mixed species plectranthus. Not these yet. I’m planning to do a little research as to the best way to sow these ruby nuggets. This may or may not happen. I may just bung them in a pot full of compost tomorrow and hope for the best.

Next we have proof that the nasturtium is not wholly indestructible. Today I pulled up reams of sog, finding all kinds of exciting things beneath, some I recognised, some not. Hopefully tomorrow I will have space enough to plant the alliums that are begging to be in the ground. Mind you, there are a few corners that the nasturtium still reigns supreme.

Lastly we have the husk of a flower. It took me a while to work it out, but I think it might be the remains of a sunflower. Whatever, I thought it looked pretty good lolling about in the rosemary. I’ve let it stay. For the moment.

There we have it, another first done and dusted. Have a look at what the other SoSer have been up to over at SoS Headquarters, you still have time to join in the fun!

Slow

Today was just what a winter’s day should look like, an identi-kit. Cold, but not too cold, golden and tranquil. Perfect for a walk. A slow and short walk of course. I am far from full health, but am equally as distant from my injury. It did us both good, we spotted badger and fox runs, confused bramble flowers, foxglove rosettes and the most incredible lichen. Slow is sometimes better than fast.

After lunch I wrapped myself up again and ventured into the garden. Tonight is forecast to be below freezing and some swaddling was required. I tugged pots under shrubs and into huddles. I carefully transported those small and precious enough down the steps to the courtyard. I tipped used compost in mounds over still-in-the-ground dahlia. And I crossed my fingers.

Whilst searching for last year’s horti fleece I pulled the door off the under stairs cupboard. “I’ll fix it when I come back in” I promised. I knew I wouldn’t have to.

Blanket of Love

We travelled home yesterday after a second Christmas with my family in Wales. Our journey was delayed, someone had been hit by a train and the line had been closed between Bristol and Taunton. I don’t know the rest of the story. It well may have been an unfortunate accident, but I can’t help thinking that life had become too painful for some poor soul. The festive period can be a gruelling time for the lonely and excluded.

Whatever the reason, it is a sad tale. One that has undoubtedly given distress and sorrow to many; the train driver, the emergency services called to the scene and those that knew the victim.

We were warm, had plenty to read and adequate supplies. Our fellow passengers were relaxed and we got home safe and unstressed. Still I couldn’t stop thinking about the person who had died so tragically and all those who find this sometimes cruel world too great a challenge.

This morning I discovered that a friend’s home was destroyed in a serious fire a couple of days ago. The family is safe but their house is almost certainly beyond repair and they have lost most of their possessions. However they are buoyant and positive and are being supported by each other and their friends.

Something else happened earlier today. And it got me to thinking. There was a ring at the door and a parcel left on the doorstep. Inside was a blanket, handmade by my friend Emma. A surprise, a wonderful surprise. It is beautiful but so much more than that. I cried at the kindness of it.

Friends and family can not always protect us from misfortune. But when adversity does strike, and as we know “into each life a little rain must fall”, it is these people who surround and embrace us. Even when it turns out to be a deluge and not just a shower.

My dear family and friends are my blanket, they fold their arms around me when I need it, they keep me warm with their love. I am very lucky and I am thankful. It should be said out loud every now and again. Happy New Year everyone, thank you.

Walk

This morning I went for a walk, slowly and carefully, around the gardens of Chambercombe Manor. It was mizzling and muddy, but I placed each step with caution, and managed a much longer walk than I had first envisaged. The camellia were full of fat buds, there was a lone flower on the hypericum, the cornus was laden with succulent baubles and the prostrate rosemary was heavy with dewy flowers. As we walked I distributed our stale bread and soft apples under shrubs and in borders, an early Christmas present for the wild things. Soon I will be running, that’s for sure.

Happy Christmas you lovelies! Hope you have the best time possible. I will see you on the other side.

Six on Saturday – Festive Frolics

Today I tentatively ventured up the slippery steps in order to inspect the top garden and take a few photos. And why, you may well ask, would I put myself at such risk? All for you Mr Prop, all for you. Also for all the other Six on Saturdayers and their followers. And for my followers and those that just happen upon me and wonder what the bloomin’ Nora is going on here. And of course for Father Christmas and all his little helpers. Which brings me nicely back to The Prop again. Yes, in case you hadn’t noticed, it is that time of year again. The gardens are not awash with brightness, but who cares, our Christmas jumpers make up for any colour deficit. Without further ado, here are my festive Six on Saturday. Before I start I should make something clear, they are “festive” because it is that time of the year, not because they have anything with Christmas, unless I can find a tenuous link. Or I might not bother. Let’s see how it goes.

Let us begin with Vinca difformis ‘Jenny Pym’, with its pretty blushing flower. This has been in the front garden for a couple of years and is bulking up beautifully. As is my wont, I had forgotten about its presence until it caught my eye as I hobbled up the path yesterday. I think I love it more each year. And then I forget about it for nine months.

Next is my new greenhouse, complete with intact door and free from holes in places that there should not be holes. The odds on my cuttings and seedlings making it through the winter have grown. When a cold snap threatens I will wrap some horticultural fleece around and about. They should be snug enough. OH is vindicated.

We have had some dreadful weather in the last couple of weeks, driving rain coupled with persistent gales. During this time I have been worrying about the plants “up the steps”, many of which need winter protection. I need not have worried as they seem to have coped quite well without my rapt attention. Much to my amazement/joy thisTibouchina urvilleana is in full flower, as are Salvia corrugata, Salvia leucantha and Lavandula pinnata.

I had been warned, and the description was accurate. The builders had indeed macheted a trail through the Bed of Anarchy. It is what it is. We can fix it.

Teasels are a tradition in our garden. They pop up wherever and whenever and hopefully always will. Earlier this week I was called to the window, the goldfinches had found their winter snackbar. It all makes sense when you see these glamorous birds swaying in the wind on the barbed heads. You will have to imagine them, or not, they look quite good alone in their spiky splendour.

The late, great, Freddie Mercury once sang “don’t stop me now, I’m having such a good time” and many have since echoed his plea, including this nasturtium. Many of its fellows have been frosted to mush or stomped into the ground, but this one, clambering through the rosemary bush, is determined to see Christmas.

So there we have it, six things that are happening today in the garden, where I was, the first time for a month. I enjoyed my mini-sojourn and it has fuelled my will to get back to full health as soon as possible. And even better!

Thank you to everyone who reads my blog, both those who make witty, kind, entertaining and, sometimes, challenging comments and those also who linger in the shadows (not in a scary way). I really do appreciate it. I wish you all a wonderful festive period, I hope it bring you everything you need and a little bit more.

ps Not one tenuous link, I must be losing my touch!

Lemon No-Bake Cheesecake

After seriously considering Mr K’s suggestion to get a new OH after the incident last weekend, I have decided to give the old one another chance. At this very moment he is constructing a new diddy plastic greenhouse and dismantling the vandalised one. Off he skipped with a smile on his face and a hammer in his hand.

To reward him for his efforts I thought I would make my signature pudding, ie my only pudding, a cheesecake. It is from the wonderful The Hungry Student Vegetarian Cookbook by Charlotte Pike. We are neither students nor vegetarians, but we are often hungry and this recipe always works out well. You could call it foolproof. It is also easy to make and delicious. Perfect. You can customise to taste, add other flavourings, arrange fruit artfully on the top or even throughout, as is your wont. It is unlikely that any of these creative adaptions will happen in this house, but stranger things have happened. As usual an approximation of Ms Pike’s instructions are in normal font, my interpretations are in italic.

Lemon No-Bake Cheesecake

Lightly grease a 20cm springform cake tin

I rummaged in the “cooking ephemeral that seldom gets used” cupboard and found that I did indeed have a 20cm springform cake tin. A Christmas miracle in itself. It was a bit cobwebby, so I gave it a good wash. I then attempted to put it back together. The bottom kept falling out. I must be doing something wrong. Time passes. It must be broken. OH walks past with a sledgehammer ” the tin ring is upside down”. Doh! Grease the tin. Add butter to shopping list.

Place twelve digestives in plastic bag and smash to crumbs with a rolling-pin and transfer into a bowl.

As thirteen is our lucky number and we like a nice thick base I chucked in another one for good luck. You can’t be mean with cheesecake. Check whether Stealth Postie has been yet. OH asks if I know where the pile driver is.

Melt 80g of butter, add to crumb and mix, pour into cake tin and flatten down evenly.

To take into account the extra biscuit I weighed out 87g, perhaps a little bit too much ….. Mixed it all together and began to flatten with spoon but decided fingers might be better. Should have put an apron on before I started. Had a little hoppy dance to Earth Wind and Fire on the radio, perhaps it was more of an enthusiastic sway. OH bangs on kitchen door gesturing to greenhouse cover he left inside. He says I am his assistant. The word “lovely” was never mentioned.

In a large bowl mix 400g of sweetened condensed milk and 225g full fat cream cheese.

The cream cheese comes in pots of 280g and as space in the fridge is at a premium at the moment I bunged the lot in, mixing it with a tin of disgustingly sweetened condensed milk. I never said this was a healthy recipe. OH taps on window with his face pressed against a wire shelf. *sigh* Another dash to see if postie is on the way, as we have box of Lindor for her.

In another bowl whisk 300ml of double cream until thick and it can be lifted into peaks.

When I gave OH the shopping list I asked him to get 300g of cream. This is a mistake I have made before. Many years ago I had a holiday job in a grocers shop and I served someone cream in grams rather than millilitres. She returned later and complained. Unfortunately, for her, the person she grumbled at was my mum, who worked in the same shop. Out of interest I have just investigated and 300ml of cream weighs 292g. Obviously a catastrophic mistake. It is highly likely that in the future I will make the same error again. It is always best to know the enemy. OH, a little bewildered by this anomaly, bought 600ml just to be sure. It is unlikely to go to waste.

I whipped the cream, with a little extra for luck, until it was thick and could be lifted into peaks. I can obey the rules sometimes. Almost. Definitely should have worn an apron.

Add the cream to the cheese/milk mix and stir in gently.

Gentle, that’s my second name. OH pops in, grabs the whiskey bottle, takes several large gulps and head back outside without a word. Seems like its going well.

Stir in zest and juice of two unwaxed lemons.

I’m not entirely sure that the lemons are unwaxed, although the chances are that they are, and they are looking a little past the first flush of youth. Attempt a little zesting then give up. Juice the frazzled fruit and top up with some extra from a bottle. A few pips escape me, but manage to fish them all out, probably. Otherwise it can become a new tradition, whoever finds the pip gets to do the washing up or an extra brussel sprout. Also a great opportunity for a little festive Heimlich manoeuvre. More stirring. Still no postie.

Carefully spoon the mixture over the crumb base and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or preferably over night.

More carefulness, I am surpassing myself today. The mixture, possibly as I added a little bit more of both cream and cheese, reaches right to the top of the tin. I covered it with foil and carefully placed it in the fridge. Then I began my patient wait. Or as patiently as I can muster. Don’t be tempted to look too soon. This had been confirmed by my good friend Betsy. Her big cheesecake reveal turned out to be a big lemony cheesy flood. Then to cooks perks. Licked out the bowl. It tastes wonderful. Now I wonder how is OH getting on? There is a mountain of washing up to be done ……

ps Postie didn’t turn up, greenhouse did.