Autumn Delight Rose
Aha! I've spent the last couple of days grasshopper-gardening, my long, not-so bendy legs leaping from this to that, gleefully ever on the move. An interesting thought - my goodness, I wish I had grasshopper-knees...
Moosey the Grasshopper...
I'll poke at one piece of dirt, weed a bit, plant a Hydrangea and some Salvias, and then wander off to rake a path somewhere else. They I'll see a poorly disfigured Daphne (which gets an instant, serious prune) on the way to the glasshouse to water the next batch of seedlings. Oh, I'll pull out some old forget-me-nots on the way back, and get biddibids all over my clothes. Then I'll see a rose (Autumn Delight, for example) which I've never photographed properly before. Where's the camera?
In this grow-madly season so many disconnected things need to be done, and noticed. And naturally all require commenting on in exuberant detail. Consequently this journal page is going to hop around a bit.
More is More?
A page of short, disconnected phrases, perhaps? Fifty thumbnail images of all the things I want to show you? More is more?
My gardening mind is like an over-planted mixed border, with different thoughts jostling each other for sunshine and space. Too many things growing in there! OK. Here goes.
My Lilac called 'Sensation', drooled over and finally nursery purchased for lots of money, is not a sensation. It's hopeless. But my white Lilac, dug out of someone else's garden and rudely tipped into the Island Bed, is beautiful, as is another subtle pink one (see the above photograph) which I grabbed in a sale. And my conclusion is?
Rose Complicata in the Wattle Woods
The rose Complicata is flowering now, but it's easy to miss those beautiful big single blooms in the jumble of the Wattle Woods Garden, amongst the Phormiums, the golden Choisya, purple Cotinus, and all the other roses - including that beautifully natural-looking (i.e. a bit scruffy) hybrid musk Autumn Delight. Yippee! I've remembered to take some half-decent photographs.
Mary Rose and Sport
More rose news - my cutting-produced 'sport' of Mary rose is blooming by the house bay window alongside her parent, and I wonder (whimsically) if I could mass-produce and market her and become amazingly rich? Hee hee.
How difficult it is to have what one needs! My trays of flowers, sitting ready to be planted, are all blue. So naturally I immediately need more pinks, yellows and whites. I have more gaps to be filled than plants with which to fill them. But how easy it is to be happy in a garden, with things to do and things to see.
Ha! Here's a disguised list of some of today's achievements: I've planted the parsley in the back of the herb spiral. The new lettuce seedlings, plus my two (only two!) germinated tomato seedlings are in patio pots. I've sow some grass seed - hope it's not too late. When is 'too late', anyway?
I've pulled out masses of forget-me-nots from the Elm Tree Garden where my new hydrangeas grow. I've even remembered to take some cuttings. I've checked on the peonies (buds almost opening) in the Birthday Rose Garden. I ended up staying there for two hours weeding.
Little Mac the Cat
There's Always a Cat...
There's always a cat nearby when I'm in the garden. The Birthday Rose Garden is grey Lilli-Puss's territory, and so she insisted on accompanying me everywhere, trying to climb passionately up my legs whenever I stopped. Ouch!
+5So we had a quiet smooching moment on the Adirondack seat. Lilli tried to climb up the rest of me, while I tried to remove sticky biddibids from her fur (my cat-maternal duty). Ouch again.
Now let's go back calmly a day. Yesterday I weeded the house side gardens (pulling out two barrowfuls of forget-me-nots) and propped up the Mutabilis rose. My house roses need to behave, and Mutabilis was flopping all over the summer lilies. And I didn't wear my gardening gloves - foolish, but I've lost my cleanish pair, and all the others were used for brick mortar and have been thrown out. Delicate pianist's hands, you know. So my fingernails are in an interesting state.
+5Late in the afternoon I was doing really well, when a dramatic southerly storm rolled in from the back paddock. My sky above was still sunny, the back paddock's sky was thunderously dark grey, and there was just enough time to dump two more barrowfuls of weeds, and then get the garden tools into the garage and Little Mac my gardening cat safe inside.
There was a bit of thunder booming, and at one stage I thought it might hail. Hail! Aargh! The hostas! Have I told you now beautiful the hostas are at the moment? No?
Apart from clothing casualties (biddibids stuck fast to my woollen socks - how to remove them gently?), bad hands (the fingernails defy description), and stiff knees (grasshopper envy) I reckon I've done some good gardening. Hope you've managed to keep up!