I am a gardening super-hero, having just bravely rescued three desperate maiden roses from the evil clutches of some tyrannical Eucalyptus trees in the back of the Shrubbery. But hang on a minute. Wasn't it me who planted them in there in the first place? Oops.
Tuesday 29th January
Definitely THE most non-rosy outlook I could have chosen for them. And so much for the maidenly concept - Old Master and Abraham Darby might object to that!
Anyway, they're in a bucket of water, winter-pruned, and tomorrow I'll get some potting mix to ease their recovery into the real world of decent gardening. Poor things. I was soooooooo silly planting them in there.
There's cloud cover, so I've stopped work to take some photographs of the summer garden, minus the glaring contrast and shiny reflections from the big bright sun. Flower colours are really quite thrilling on a cloudy day. You beautiful deep pink summer phloxes! I love you to bits.
Pretty White Daisies
And the whites look much less alarming. Pretty white annual cosmos flowers are filling gaps near my compost heap, and the rows of big white Shasta daisies along the water race haven't flopped over yet. And don't you dare take any notice of me!
And I need to say a cheesy 'hellooooo' to the self-sown pumpkin vine twirling out of the compost heap and through the new striped roses. OK, I didn't plant you, but welcome, and please build me some yummy pumpkins. Gorgeous flowers, by the way.
Naturally the brick herb spiral looks gorgeous, though it's rather smothered in flowers. But many of the herbs are flowering, too, and self-sown potatoes have popped up in all the garden compartments. My second crop of summer lettuces are ready to harvest, and the parsley has suddenly fluffed out.
Wonderful Crepuscule Rose
Nearby on the Pergola the rose Crepuscule is reblooming - just the most wonderful rose. In fact, the whole of the garden looks amazing, without the harsh sunlight dazzling. I am so happy!
Herb Spiral in Summer
So why am I inside gushing over the computer keyboard? Ha! Because today I am sandwich gardening. I'm off now to try out 'Black Coffee' (it's a blues song) with my singing friend, then I'm driving further afield to get some bricks. This afternoon I will return to the Shrubbery and finish what I started.
Oh joy! Super-Pruning-Woman has been let loose - a quick clip of the periwinkle, a quick trim of the overhanging Pittosporums, and the Shrubbery is tidy again. Well, tidy enough. It's a rather haphazard garden area - some parts get irrigation, and things in these spots (for example a mass planting of miniature Agapanthus) are thriving. But those poor roses! Ouch. What was I thinking? Blimey, I'll be digging scoopy holes for rhododendrons next. No way! Just joking...
Pond Path and Gnomes
My day finished with another swim in my pond. Minimus the cottage cat hid underneath the decking and chirped at me as I dogpaddled by. Then I showered with the garden hose. So I feel very natural and rather tingly (that water was cold). And rather proud of yet another fabulous day in my groovy garden.
Wednesday 30th January
A heat wave? It wouldn't really compare with outback Australia, but it is fairly hot outside, by my garden's standards. Already today my dog and I have wandered down the road, and I've vacuumed the downstairs of the house. I've listened to my piano concerti Mozart CD twice while doing some long overdue web work.
Bright Pink Roses
Now, just as the hottest part of the day arrives, I'm feeling garden-guilty, and so I'm off (idiotically) to tidy up the Welcome Garden. At the moment this, the first visible garden for Moosey visitors, shouts out 'Welcome to the Moosey Collection of Common Garden Weeds'. Right. We'll see about that!
+10It's become far too hot for Super-Me and Little Mac (my faithful sidekick, AKA cat-company), but I'm feeling pretty good. I've been sawing down branches with the extension handle of the saw, and trimming Hebes and Pittosporums blocking the driveway access. There are a few 'drought' casualties in the Welcome Garden - some fat leafed Pittosporums are in serious wilt, and some of the deciduous Azaleas have their leaf edges burnt. Whereas the ivy, which I shouldn't be encouraging (I always regret allowing ivy to grow) is luxuriant and deep green underneath the scorching sun. Hmm... And is this a suitable location for roses? No, no, no...