Something suitably contrapuntal?
Gardening calls - but what do I feel like doing? I've just spent the morning playing Bach Trio Sonatas, so I need something suitably contrapuntal. Prick out the purple cornflower seedlings? Too homophonic? They do, after all, look completely same at this tender stage of their lives...
Sunday 16th September
I've been in my glass-house, happily poking at seeds and generally pottering around. And just for something completely different, I've been playing Rachmaninov's lush piano concerti on the garden Ipod. I consider this superb growing music. And I promise to keep my seeds watered without drowning them (this has happened in the past). The lettuces have already gone outside underneath the table to harden off.
Dog in the Water
Non-Gardening Partner also took me to the river to get a trailer load of river stones, for the edges of the water race. Rusty loves the river, and he also 'helps' when I'm working in the water race. I finished the day throwing the heaviest ones in near Willow Bridge. By this time, I was playing Bartok's string quartets, the sounds of which usually get my bellbirds tootling and whistling. I'm repairing this wall before the Gunnera grows any bigger..
Monday 17th September
Aargh! No music, no seeds today - I've been doing web-gardening, as the Moosey web-site gets its most serious make-over ever. There are lots of little changes, which all contribute to a better overall look. The process is similar in real gardening, except I don't get so dreamy thinking about what I'm doing. It's a case of 'click, save, overwrite, upload, click...' compared to 'weed, rake, gaze at a rhododendron, pick a droopy daffodil'...
Tuesday 18th September
Yippee! Today I've escaped from the clutches of my live-in web-master to pick up a carload of new plants - bags and bags of sprouting sedums (I think they're Autumn Joy) and some huge dahlia clumps, freshly dug.
Sedums and Dahlias
Quick as a flash, decisively, with no dithering, the sedums have already been planted in the Hen House Gardens. I'm not sure yet where those dahlias will go - they're tall and pink, with strong yellow middles, and come from an older traditional garden.
As if perfectly planned, the water level in the race has been really low, so I've also been scurrying around with my river stones building up the edges. This is such a pleasant, modular task, and apart from getting rather cold, wet feet I love it.
Rusty the dog, as usual, gets in the water with me, while Little Mac stands in the garden nearby, watching. Don't fall in, little cat!
And by now the batteries on the garden Ipod were running low, so I gardened to nature's soundtrack - a buzzy, chirpy, burbly semi-silence. Rather restful, actually...