Garden Journal 2017

Oooh, goodie! A new year, another new if arbitrary beginning, and another chance to change this and that in my garden, plant new shrubs amd flowers, and write all about each gardening day. As in my gardening, I will try to be deep and meaningful in my writing. I will try to make every day count, and not be boring in the retelling of it. I might even find some new, fresh adjectives with which to describe the roses. Promises, promises! So here's the Moosey Garden Journal for 2017.

Happy 2017Happy 2017...
Happy New Year! Oh joy - no New Year's Resolutions for me in 2017. I am simply going to follow my nose. Not that there's anything unpleasantly fragrant in my garden. I am going to trust myself to know what needs doing. I am going to listen to what my garden asks of me...
Early morning thought processes...Early morning thought processes......
I don't know which early morning thought process I prefer. Waking up thinking about the garden and knowing exactly where I'm going to work. Or waking up in a vague garden daze, with no clue or inspiration as to the Task de Jour.
More of summer, pleaseMore of summer, please...
More of summer, please. What's the story about all the cold rain - and the hail that's forecast? This will not do! I have a garden to weed.
Moosey the Moocher...Moosey the Moocher......
Only the seventh day of the year and I'm feeling garden-petulant and moochy. An emergency list, quickly : Sweep the patio and the decking. Tidy all the pots. Stack stray firewood logs, pick up old plastic planting pots. Rake the weeds off the driveway. Take pleasure from the mundane.
Lightweight...Lightweight......
It's been a lightweight gardening week - nice visitors, swimming, forest walks (with Winnie the young dog) and relaxing on garden seats reading detective stories, snacking on cherries and raspberries. Summer fruits - yum! Summer visitors - yeay! Summer days - nice and lazy!
Summer weeding...Summer weeding......
Never, ever assume anything concerning a random gardener. These last days have super hot. So I've been weeding, all day. No sore hands, and I haven't become bored or grumpy. And no sneaky tricks (like the reward of the pensioner's pub roast) needed. Summer weeding. Just like that!
RewardsRewards...
Need a reward for working hard all day in the garden? For me, the anticipation of a tasty evening meal works the best. OK. Here's today's deal. Work hard, then enjoy a pensioner's country pub roast tonight, with a glass of Merlot...
Another new plan!Another new plan!...
The last gardening week of my January has been groovy. Each morning I've been out exercising myself and the dogs, and in the afternoons I've done maybe three hours weeding in the garden. I have a new Personal Management Plan (must be a January thing, like joining a gym hee hee).
Back into the Wattle WoodsBack into the Wattle Woods...
The Wattle Woods are lovely, criss-crossed with winding paths, not deserving of gardener neglect. When an area in my garden is messy I tend not to visit it much, out of guilt. And self-preservation...
Overflowing with wind...Overflowing with wind......
My garden is overflowing with wind. So I've been partially gardening, sneaking back inside when the big trees become too noisy. But the garden still looks beautiful in its summer colours. Pink and green. Apricot and green. Anything and green, I guess!
Disheartened? Me?Disheartened? Me?...
I am banning the word 'disheartened' from my garden journal ramblings. This word describes how I sometimes feel. It is a word to be fought off, and if possible knocked out, by lots of well-organised hard work. No garden should make its gardener feel disheartened. Not should gardening magazines and books!
Balanced...Balanced......
Balance in the garden means more than staying on the bridge, not wobbling off to land in the water, or (worse) the spiky Gunnera. One needs to balance one's gardening speed. One day, work ferociously fast. Then stand for half an hour and do some hand-held watering of the roses - gardening in the slow-lane!
Almost half-way!Almost half-way!...
February is almost half-way through - things move so fast! Early mornings are noticeably darker, and the midday shadow angles look different. Aha! The sun is beginning to shift in the sky. Things are changing. Summer is slowly sneaking out.
Visitors!Visitors!...
The mid-summer garden visitors (flowers, I mean) are slowly packing up their things and moving on out. This morning I said goodbye, wistfully, to the miniature Agapanthus flowers which ring Pond Cottage's wee garden and the nearby path around the pond. Well done, my pretty blues.
A sad story...A sad story......
Life is a bit sad without Tiddles the Tabby (with too many toes). My beautiful polydactyl cat has now been missing for six days. Each day the dogs and I wander around the orchard - her favourite hunting ground. But I'm calling to nothing. I don't sense her being anywhere close.
Quality dog-timeQuality dog-time...
Remember my New Year's Resolution? Oops. It's nearly two months old now, and already I've forgotten all about it. I was going to be 'kinder' (obviously to all my humans, etc) - but specifically to my dogs. It's nearly two months old now, and already I've forgotten all about it.
No slowing down...No slowing down......
Eek! It's already March, the third month of the year, and my garden is slowing down for autumn. But I am not slowing down - no way! It's the perfect time for planting - Aha! New shrubs! And shifting the existing ones around.
Elastic hours...Elastic hours......
Sometimes gardening time goes all stretchy, full of elastic hours, with no definite scale or measure. Suddenly, after what feels like a gentle pottering session, insignificant time-wise, I see that it's five o'clock. Eek! I started work mid-morning...
My non-gardening journalMy non-gardening journal...
Over the last days we've had nearly sixty mm of rain. It's fallen steadily and soaked into the dry ground. Phew! The garden, the orchard, and the paddocks have all needed this wonderful moisture. I've done no gardening - just some drizzle photography.
The bonfiring season begins...The bonfiring season begins......
I declare the season of the autumn bonfire open! Yeay! Yeay? Some things are 'awfully' necessary, as is burning all the dry rubbish in my garden. Perennial trimmings, debris from the huge gum trees, Cordyline leaves...
Soft-shoe shuffle...Soft-shoe shuffle......
Most years I'll declare : 'March is marching on'. But this year March is dancing the softest of soft-shoe shuffles, with the slightest hint of autumn colour, the lightest touch of chill in the mornings. Lightly, spritely, so delightfully...
e-dog is visiting!e-dog is visiting!...
It's a drizzly weekend and Mister Brown is back! Escher the brown dog (e-dog is his new nickname) is staying for a few days. He's been running madly around the garden with Winnie, while old man Rusty plods along by my heels.
Good autumn friendsGood autumn friends...
Right. The bonfire beckons. Well, maybe not the word. The thought of a sentient bonfire yelling - 'Yoo hoo! Over here!' is rather bizarre. But we are still in a relationship, good autumn friends, me and my bonfire.
The Bachelor...The Bachelor......
Hee hee. It's the 2017 TV season of New Zealand's 'The Bachelor'. Perfect timing! For Beau Ram, our handsome (and intact) merino bloke, has just been 'introduced' to some lovely ewes. Beau was last seen being chased around the paddock by the girls...
No fool like an old fool...No fool like an old fool......
Eek. April has sneaked into my life and my garden. There's no fool like an old fool? I sailed (well, 'gardened' might be the better word) through the 1st of April, April Fools' Day, without even knowing. Perhaps I was tricked ten times and didn't have the wits to notice?
Rain and sun...Rain and sun......
Rain, more rain. Blobby rain with serious intentions. Puddles in the driveway! I have had to reinstate my gumboots, and the dogs and I go for wet walks around the gardens and orchard. I think deep thoughts about the concept of shelter, and how annoying wet shoulders and wet feet can be. The dogs don't care about wet necks and feet at all...
Evasion tactics...Evasion tactics......
The weekend. There we were, Non-gardening Partner and I, discussing his trimming of the fastigate Oaks, which he hadn't finished properly. When does that Miscanthus finish? he asked, pointing to a large ornamental grass shining in the sun. NGP, correctly identifying a Miscanthus? And interested in it? Evasion tactics, for sure!
A water non-feature...A water non-feature......
When is a water feature not a water 'feature'? When the water isn't flowing and the surrounding gardens are uber-messy. Ha! My wriggling little stream in the Wattle Woods is getting a major autumn clean up.
Ouch...Ouch......
Ouch! But you want to hear about the garden, right? Patches of clover weeds in the garden alongside the water race. Aargh! When did these weeds get so fat and healthy? That blasted trailer load of top-soil has a lot to answer for!
CouldnCouldn't resist......
I gave in. Driving past the big Easter Nursery Sale after swimming this morning, I just couldn't resist popping in. Just to satisfy myself that the nursery's sale prices would still be far too dear for me, you understand.
The autumn clean-up?The autumn clean-up?...
This concept of the autumn clean-up (singular) just doesn't ring true for me in my garden. At the moment, after four early-autumn clean-ups I am enjoying the third of my mid-autumn ones, to be followed by at least a couple of late autumn ones. And then - yippee! The first of the early winter clean-ups, I think we get the point. Clean-ups plural. I am always cleaning up.
A sheepish thing...A sheepish thing......
Self gardening discipline is a sheepish thing. Sometimes, on the most perfect of autumn days, it escapes out the gate, and blunders down the road, like a random ewe in search of - what exactly? A paddock with no fences? The perfect ram? The meaning of life? I don't think sheep worry that much about the meaning of life. And nor should gardeners...
Falling...Falling......
The autumn leaves are now starting to fall. Their choice - they've decided that it's time. So lovely to be patted gently on the head by red-brown oak leaves. And so much nicer than snow. There's no reason to be grumpy (not that I am, you understand) in autumn.
Love autumn...Love autumn......
Autumn races along. Last week - wow! Look at the scarlet oak trees, beautifully red against the blue sky. This week - oh dear. Much crunching underfoot. Time to bag up the fallen leaves. And I love it. I love autumn doing its own thing, at its own pace. I love every moment, every day, every week...
An almost-frost...An almost-frost......
Two nights ago we had the first almost-frost, desperately close to the magic zero (Celsius). It was nose-nippy walking the dogs, and I tried to imagine long-distance running across Siberia in winter. I'm reading one of my extreme travel books - it's a seasonal thing, hee hee.
A sad day...A sad day......
Today is a sad day. Rusty our old red Border Collie dog has been lovingly laid to rest in the Ram Paddock. He was nearly thirteen years old. He has been a huge part of my country life. Gardening days, bicycle rides, walks, trips in the car to forests, the river, the dog park...
Ready...Ready......
I'm ready for pre-winter apres-gardening. Good kindling, bags of pine cones, dry firewood for the log-burner. Merino layers, fluffy mohair jersey, and my Ugg boots - wonderful slippers. A super-comfy dog couch to share with the cats (oops) in front of the fire. And yet another library book about Queen Elizabeth 1st... Content
Black as midnight cat...Black as midnight cat......
Scary Buster, black as midnight cat! The household is (understandably) feeling a little sensitive about its animals at the moment. Buster is missing for breakfast. This is awful. She's in trouble? She's lost? No - she's just out hunting in next-door's weedy paddock
WhatWhat's more boring?...
Two deep gardening questions : 1. What's more boring than spreading ten wheelbarrowfuls of mulch? Answer : Raking up ten bags of autumn leaves. 2. What's more boring than raking up ten bags of autumn leaves? Answer : Spreading ten wheelbarrowfuls of mulch.
More questions...More questions......
More questions. How can I con myself into gardening for ages on a cool winter's day, and achieve meaningful, noticeable results? To list or not to list? Coffee first, or later? Decisions. Coffee first. And then a skeleton list, or better still - a set of instructions, plain and easily followed...
Love, love, love...Love, love, love......
I love winter-gardening. I am tough, a fully hardy perennial. I've got good, garden-rough clothes, woolly warm socks, and good garden boots. And a warm house, with the log-burner going, and my Ugg boots into which to retreat if necessary. I love my Ugg boots. And anyway, it's not all that cold...
Welcome winter...Welcome winter......
Aha! Welcome winter, don't be shy. Come on in, stop on by. But please don't be noisy, or rude. Winter - be a chill, cool dude! Hmm... Poetry aside, it's the first day of official winter (southern hemisphere style), and so my official Great Winter Garden Clean-Up can begin.
June gardening...June gardening......
June winter gardening... Cold days (brrr), a warm house (yesssss), short days, morning frosts. The cats still hunting, bringing in mice, rats and headless rabbits (no idea which cat does this, but definitely not Tiger). Taking Winnie the dog for lots of brisk walks. The puffy jacket! Woolly gloves! Merino layers! Hood up, head down...
Ideas...Ideas......
Some ideas are lofty, maybe inspired by an inspiring picture in a glossy gardening book. Others are downright mundane, and small-scale. And these are often the ones with the most spectacular results. So how sensible is this latest idea of mine?
Little things - and big things!Little things - and big things!...
It really does pay to keep the gardening eyes open at all times. And not just to avoid tripping on Winnie the dog's abandoned tennis balls. But to notice all the little colourful things, precious little gems amidst the functional dull greens and browns of my winter garden.
Dancing around the bonfire...Dancing around the bonfire......
The hedge trimmer man has left behind swathes of Leyland branches. Some are large enough to cut up for firewood logs, others will neatly fit in the shredder, and then there's the little scrappy stuff. That's bonfire material. And there is sooooooo much of it!
The winter solstice...The winter solstice......
The winter solstice usually marks the start of extreme morning twittering in this gardening journal. Not because I have cosmic thoughts to share, but because until 11am it's usually too cold outside. But how lucky am I that this is my typical mid-winter's gardening day! Itching to get out, and stuck inside for only three daylight hours. Dear, dear me...
Puff out your chest...Puff out your chest......
I'm watching the birdies at their feeding stations. Half apples in hanging coconuts for birds who like privacy, peaches in syrup for the nectar drinkers, bird seed for the finches, and a so-called 'bird-bomb' from the butcher (pure carbohydrates) for the energy guzzlers.