The Moosey Garden Trio?
It's a chamber music morning, and we are playing two (TWO! Oh joy!) Bach Trio Sonatas. Our trio needs a name. Head Gardener, Non-Gardening Partner, Flautist Friend... Hmm... Nothing springs to mind. HGNGPFF? Nope. The Moosey Garden Trio? A bit self-centred...
Sunday 22nd January
I've had such a grand gardening week, and I haven't been as random as usual. My head's been gracefully down, quietly weeding, watering, and planting 800 recycled daffodil bulbs (I'm half finished). The two new Wattle Woods footbridges have passed the elderly wobbly visitor test. Together with Little Mac the kitten I've done some great gardening near the house. The lilies are flowering, and for the first time they have room to breathe. Nice.
Creamy White Lilies
After a wonderful 'live' Bach morning Beethoven's Emperor Concerto is gurgling away on the stereo. I associate Beethoven with my pianistic youth (which I recall with shifty embarrassment). And now he's too thumpy for my aging fingers, and I rarely listen to him. I am not a natural reminiscer, which is probably just as well, considering all the forwards-to-the-future plans I have zooming around my head.
It looks like being an indoors afternoon, because the weather is rainy and all the vegetation is wet. Little Mac the kitten doesn't enjoy the wet grass, either, and keeps shaking out his paws. I've been re-evaluating the far side of the Island Bed. My conclusions are as follows:
Plans for the Island Bed
- 1. Squashed Lilacs
- The lilacs need to be shifted into more space - wait until autumn when they're sleeping.
- 2. Pathetic Peonies
- The peonies have done poorly in this garden, and I've lost patience with them.
- 3. Messy Hostas
- The 'willy-nilly' hosta plantings need simplifying.
- 4. Viburnum rhytidophyllum
- All remaining stumps of this unpleasant if terribly precisely named Viburnum need to go. Out. Poison for any suckers. I mean business.
I could go outside now and start potting the peonies and hostas, while I can still see them. Oops. No I can't. It's raining cats and dogs - and kittens?
Summer Daisies and Red Hot Pokers
The sun came out for a couple of hours, so I took the opportunity to burn more of the gum tree rubbish. Whoosh! Up it all went. I thought I'd had my last summer bonfire. Humph. And here's another humph - I found a delightful patch of weeds on the water race bank, flowering just finished, all ready to set seed oh so generously for me. A lovely discovery late in a barely satisfactory gardening day.
Monday 23rd January
+10Ooo - a toasty not-so-warm night in the cottage with the woolly crochet blanket definitely in use. Our night-time temperatures can be so weird in summer. And Percy the ginger cat has finally (after nearly a year) found me sleeping in the cottage, and he keeps popping in the window. Kerplunk! The bed wobbles, like in an aftershock. And I can add yet another silliness to the list 'Things I Worry About at 3am'. Adult sheep bleating after heavy summer rain in the next-door paddock. With absolutely no fear of flooding or anything likely to cause sheep-distress, by the way.
Young Minimus Cat
Add another item to the 'Things I Can't Take Decent Photographs Of' List. It's young Minimus the cottage cat, smooching and keeping me company by the bonfire yesterday. Being grey (which acts oddly as camouflage in my garden - not that my garden is grey!) doesn't help. Now I have a lovely series of photographs with two basic 'poses' - the out-of-focus nose-and-whiskers, plus the swishing-back-end-and-tail.
Well done me. I've gardened for three hours with Big Fluff-Fluff, young Minimus, and the scampering kitten. I managed not to stand on him, or lose him in the water race. He came close, though! I pulled out all the white Lychnis from the Glass-House Garden, giving the roses light and room to flower again. I've also done a bit of weeding, but it's not finished.
Tuesday 24th January
Ah... The day starts slowly. A munch of toast, a slurp of tea, an appreciative gaze out the glass doors to the beautiful summer garden, another much of toast... The big cats are fed and have wandered off to their various morning positions. Rusty the dog, obsessed with toast crusts, is sitting to attention drooling. Eek!
- Tiger :
- Tiger! That is a most unflattering pose...
Devotees of Tiger, my plus-sized Senior Cat, will be pleased to know she's upped her outdoor exercise quota since the kitten arrived. The morning joy is to chase Little Mac over the lawn to the climbing tree, a gently leaning shaggy-barked gum. Naturally Tiger stops there - she doesn't climb any more. I've suggested to NGP that we get a second little kitten for Little Mac to play with. He sort of grunted.
I've completely weeded the Glass-House Garden, which backs onto the water race. There I was, busily scooping out annual weeds, when 'plop' - you've guessed it - the kitten fell into the water. This time I giggled rather than worried, and watched him drag himself easily back up the bank. Kittens can definitely swim, though they may not choose to.
Just Joey Rose
The four standard roses (rescued from plastic-bag suffocation in the supermarket) seem to like this garden, and they nicely give some summer height and definition to the lawn edge. Just Joey is very beautiful, and I'm now certain that the shrub rose nearer the water is a Just Joey too. So one of my recycled roses has a proper name. Well done that rose!
I worked hard for four hours. And then the sun came out and I came in, which is not a bad thing, considering the pale English Moosey rose complexion. Little Mac the swimming kitten is now deeply asleep on the TV couch, tummy full of pet veal and milk, and I've been watering patio pots, vaguely wiping things, and listening to the cricket. And so the day finishes slowly and nicely.