Winter weekend gardening legends...
Winter weekend gardening legends are allowed to write as much as they like about their successful weekends in the garden, with lots of plant details, and much boasting. Ha!
Sunday 12th June - Continued, Apres Gardening...
Ooops - it's late Sunday, and the winter gardening legend has finally finished for the day. There is cheery late afternoon sun, and not a drop of wind. Call it overkill, if you like, but I have so much to say that I have started a brand new page. Readers will be groaning - they probably already think I could condense my journal, and be less waffley. Ha!
The Top of the Driveway in Winter
In my second gardening session of the day I decided to do some weeding near the rubbish fire. Garden multi-tasking at its most sensible - when the fire needed a bit of a poke (or another barrowful of combustibles) I would be right there, on hand. I re-laid the brick paths in the pergola garden - now they have cute curves. I moved around the woodshed to the Elm Tree Garden, dug the edges and weeded.
Jerome on the Brick Path
Then I crossed over the narrow grass path to the Apple Tree Garden, weeded some more, pruned the hydrangeas and cut back the Macleaya (such a groovy perennial - so very stylish). Out came self-sown seedlings of the geranium Mourning Widow - sorry, but I've lost interest in this plant.
There are some lovely large ornamental grasses in these two gardens - a large upright clump of Miscanthus Zebrinus, a Toe Toe Richardii, and two Calamagrostis grasses. Their stylish seed-heads make winter garden sculptures. The grass lawn is the brightest emerald green imaginable. It's a peaceful area, and maybe deserves a seat. This is the Jerome zone (Jerome is my slightly unsociable grey cat), and sure enough - she turned up from the undergrowth.
The flaxes are now shining in the afternoon sun, and the bellbirds are still singing. Go New Zealand! Where else would I want to be? I've had the most wonderful winter weekend in the garden.
Monday 13th June
Brr... Where would I rather be? Somewhere a little warmer than one degree at 9 am on a gardening morning? One day maybe I'll have a second garden somewhere else in the world - a sub-tropical paradise sounds appealing. You see, it's far too cold for even the most legendary of winter gardeners to go forth. That means I have a whole hour (at least) to twitter on in the journal, drink cups of hot tea (oops - it will have to be coffee, we're out of tea) and commune with the animals. Perhaps a bracing walk (balaclava-ed and gloved) down the frosty road with puppy. Hmm...
A Pair of Flaxes in the Dog-Path Garden
Even my gardening brain seems frosted over. When I came inside yesterday afternoon I had a mental list stretching out like the longest winter night - of easy garden things (mainly little, insignificant things) which obviously needed doing. And the whole is the sum of the parts, after all. Trouble is I can't exactly remember the details. You see - I should have written it down! Ha! I should write more in this journal, not less! But I do have some other winter web worries, other than the excessive journal entries.
Winter Web Worries
- The Moosey Cats and Dogs
- Is it time for Rusty the puppy and the two new catlets to have their own page? Are they 'old' enough? After all, these three new animals have now lived at Mooseys for eight months.
- The Hump Path
- When is a path properly enough established to have its own page? The edges of the new Hump path, for example, are almost finished. The firewood logs which were solidly edging it are now in a tidy little pyramid drying out, soon to be consumed by the log-burner. But as yet there is minimal edge planting...
- The Chelsea Flower Show
- Just suppose there was a famous summer flower show in May, and two literate and imaginative relatives went as Moosey representatives, and took nearly a thousand photographs - and if it was now almost the middle of June - that's nearly three weeks later - hmm... Where's the evidence?
- Rusty and Smoocher :
- Rusty and Smoocher are the best of animal friends.
Well, we did start off on our normal walk along the road later, only to be joined by Smoocher the catlet. Change of plan - down to the back paddock, saying 'hello' (well - puppy barked and Smoocher hissed) to the neighbour's cat basking in the hay barn.
One gardener and two orange animals - puppy's fur goes orange when he gets damp, and of course Smoocher is ginger - enjoying the country air. Then came a moment of deep dog-disgrace. Rusty the puppy caught a bird (a harmless adult thrush, minding his own business in the hedge) and wouldn't come to my command. The bird eventually flew unharmed out of the puppy-mouth, but stern words were spoken, rather destroying the peaceful rural ambience.