Glass-house

The Glass-house

My glass-house is in the back corner of the house gardens, near the water race and the shade of the Wattle Woods.

On one side there is garden, with a small path edged with low plantings of herbs, nicotianas and flaxes, disappearing into the Rugosa roses. On the back side I have laid out tables where my cuttings are hardened off.

Haphazard Horticulture

I use this horticultural term in the loosest possible sense, as my regime of growing and watering seedlings and cuttings is at best haphazard. On a good day it looks organised!

The Glass-house in Afternoon Sun

A Romantic Retreat

There's a romantic feeling about having a small glass-house, and many visitors ogle and coo at the sight of mine. It looks cosy and peaceful in the backing embrace of the majestic Wattles, its surrounding lawns neatly mowed, its front garden full of life and colour.

My glass-house is a retreat, a warm little potting shed where relaxing cups of coffee sit on the bench, as the gardener, mellow, simply potters.

My glass-house in mid spring is almost like this. When the outside temperature is a little crisp, it's a magic place to be, warm and sunny. Never mind that there are towers of pots and containers to be sorted, or that the floor is full of dead and abandoned gardening tools, or that there are weeds in the dirt, old seeds in faded envelopes, and a mouse has been chewing things...

Moosey's Messy Glass-house

Pots of Tomatoes

The tomatoes go in their large pots about this time, and the little plants look so full of promise. This is the time of my glass-house resolutions. There will be stakes. I will not slacken off my watering habits. I will feed my tomatoes. And I will be a vigilante destroyer of the dreaded whitefly.

My cuttings are used to these fervent moods of garden righteousness. They aren't impressed, but then they are always outside, potted in their own personal pots and enjoying natural sun when I fall from grace. In spring they thrive. I also have pots and pots of seedlings laid out on the benches, some gathered from the garden and some bought from my favourite seed catalogue. I read their needs and predicted dimensions carefully. It's just a pity that I don't ever remember these when later planting out!

Wily Whiteflies

In summer, every summer, it's the whitefly that get me. I spray with the friendliest sprays (pyrethrum based) first, but they seem to cling on underneath the lowest leaves. I read that whitefly can have a life cycle of three days, so I make a roster of days with boxes to tick and pin it to the laundry wall. But I miss days, and then I run out of spray, and then I give up. Watering the pots and harvesting the tomatoes by March is hazardous, as clouds of whitefly get up my nose. I try to hold my breath as I zoom in, grab, and zoom out. This is ridiculous! Where are those early frosts when you need them?

As I'm writing this it's Autumn, and I've given up on the tomatoes - maybe next year I'll be better organised. Maybe I can smoke them out, or use up the flyspray from the house.

It's time to get the next lot of cuttings going, and start the pansy seeds that I've collected and proudly, hopefully, labelled "big purple". I don't need any more roses but I can't resist growing more. My Ballerina cutting-grown roses by the pond are still blooming, so beautiful, so easy to strike..

The Glass-house in Spring

Looking Ahead

In the months to come I'll use the glass-house more for the frost tender plants that I use in plantings everywhere - pelargoniums with the variegated leaves, and the peppermint big-leaf type, daisies, and blue perennial ageratum. I'll replace the old penstemons and some of the salvias. and get out my hopefully variegated white honesty seedlings. I'll clean up the leaning towers of pots, and I'll cut out lots of plastic labels. I'll buy a new permanent marker pen. I'll become the tidiest, best organised small glass-house owner ever.

Whitefly, beware! Next summer I'll definitely get you!