Unwanted garden gnomes?

 Isn't he looooovely!
Bluey the Gnome

Ha! It appears that the wet pre-winter weather has brought all the unwanted garden gnomes out of their closets. Or do I possibly mean their owner's closets? Oops. 'Gardens' might be a better word... For I now have two new garden gnomes.

Saturday 30th May

This dodgy weather has dampened the Moosey gardening spirits a little - the highlight of the week so far has been driving off in the rain to pick up another garden gnome. But I had to! For he is the brother-in-mould of my original Moosey gnome - they both still have identical, youthful brown beards!

My new gnome is called 'Bluey', and at the moment he's on the patio, waiting for the reunion ceremony. These brothers didn't know each other existed, and haven't seen each other for over twenty years...

Common Sense Required

Right - some common sense is required as I approach this brand new, soggy gardening day. I'm ready in my mud-gardening clothes, and I'm going to have a bonfire. It's really too wet to weed any of the gardens, but there are still piles of burnable rubbish to deal to. I'm going to enjoy this bonfire, too.

My whole day is preplanned. The slow-cooker is on, already, for our evening meal. I have a new apres-gardening woollen jersey to christen. It's hand-knitted, bright blue background, with an enormous tawny owl on a tree branch. On a young thing (oh dear - memories!) it would look retro-chic, stylish, extremely edgy and individual. On me it just looks like some dear old lady has knitted an enormous owl jersey for an unappreciative, overweight favourite son, I found it in the charity shop, and felt terribly sorry for her. Thought - I could send it to London Webmaster Son of Moosey for his upcoming birthday... Oops.

 Lots of beautiful flaxes grow on the banks of the water race.
Autumn Phormiums

Right. I've had my coffee and I'm going out there. My garden shed arrives next week, so Non-Gardening Partner needs to see me showing resolution in the face of wet weather and mud. Impressed, he will then help me build my shed. Please? I will be back, but not too soon...

Bonfire and Blue Sky

Ha! Three Hours Later...

Be very impressed! For although I am now clean and warm inside (wearing my ridiculous knitted owl) I have triumphed over the damp, cold, outside garden. And I even saw a peep of blue sky (it's gone all grey again now) which I immediately photographed - as one does, when blue sky has been off the menu for a whole week.

I've dragged out a trailer load of mess from the Hump, pruned lots of straggly branches off pine tree (sawing trees gets one rather warm rather quickly). And I've burnt the lot. Wonderful stuff! Self-redemption...

Monday 31st May

Oh dear. I've woken up feeling rather slow - this is not good for a Monday morning, the last day of a very important month. So I'm making a first list, and then I'm doing everything on it. And then I can have lunch and coffee. And that's that!

  1. Walk and talk with Rusty the dog.
  2. Barrow more burning rubbish out of Hump.
  3. Burn the rubbish.

Right. It's much, much later - I've worked for four hours. Take that, Moosey the Doubter. Six barrow loads of incredibly dry stuff from the Hump, plus some gentle pruning of Corokias and Viburnums, some serious pruning of a Clematis montana and a cherry rambling rose, both of which were making a dreadful beeline for the white Camellia by the Sleep-Out.

 Nasty, prickly shrub - beautiful coloured flowers!
Gorse - Aargh!

So I've actually done proper autumn garden tidy-upping (?) rather than just catching up with my rubbish heaps. The network of wiggling paths in Middle Garden has been reclaimed (that naughty Gunnera was flopping its huge spiky leaves all over the place). I've pulled dead leaves off the red Cordylines and the waterside Phormiums - plus twenty-five thriving broom treelets, and lots of the tiniest, cutest gorse seedlings out of the middle of the Golden Hop. Aargh! Now that's another story - that Golden Hop is a rampant thug. Why do mild-mannered gardeners insist on growing plant-monsters who wish to strangle all the neighbours?

Goodbye to May...

I don't think I should wear my knitted owl jersey to choir tonight, though. Perhaps a striped merino roll-neck underneath the teal woolly cardy with scalloped front band and big buttons would be better. Choirs require blenders, after all. And I can say goodbye to May, confidently, with warmth and a certain style...