The garden feels autumnal...
I've now definitely adopted the equinox as my personal date for the official start to autumn. The garden feels autumnal, all peaceful and serene, and red and golden leaves are starting to flutter down from the trees in the Pond Paddock.
Friday 23rd March
It's funny how gloomy some folk get about autumn, saying that it's 'all downhill' from that point - making the analogy with the autumn of their own lives, perhaps? Ha! Descent, anyway, is not necessarily a bad thing. Speaking as a hiker, going downhill (though creating issues for older knees) can be rather pleasant, if one takes it easy, watches ones step, and remembers to enjoy the scenery.
- 'Live in the season you're in.'
- -Moosey Words of Wisdom.
I wouldn't want to miss out a winter - well, maybe a month of it, but no more. And it's always easy (and costs nothing) to dream about spring. I tend not to do this. Live in the season you're in, I reckon.
Gnome on old Cane Chair
No Gardening Yesterday
No gardening was done yesterday. The garden was wet from overnight rain, and I had to finish my book (so I could discuss it intelligently at Book Club).
Today I seem to have made a leisurely approach to the morning, but at least I am dressed ready for the garden, which is a good start. My winter frog pyjamas are now a proper fit (i.e. loose in the appropriate pyjama-sense) and it's tempting to lounge around in them. I would never, ever, garden in my pyjamas, though. They have green frogs on a white background, for one!
Right. Coffee, I think, and then a preparatory wander around the garden. The newly cleared Septic Tank Garden now has much more space for some new, appropriate plantings. When there's garden-room for another rose there's hope, I reckon!
I blame the loose frog pyjamas. Because I've been (so far) successful on my Shape Up For Life Campaign (which is not a diet but a way of life, hee hee) I promised myself a tasty lunch of crumbed scallops. So my gardening morning has been spent in an unfocussed, constantly salivating food-haze.
I have, however, managed to re-organise the hostas and the new rose plantings in the Island bed, though. For my records, Virgo has gone in the front, and I've also shifted a small Azalea and two clumps of peonies forwards. I tried to start some serious weeding in the Shrubbery, but couldn't concentrate. All that waiting, waiting, waiting - even the start of the cricket has been delayed. Yummy lunch, by the way!
I've planted the recycled, fat-shrubbed apricot rose in a gap at the edge of the Shrubbery, and tipped a load of compost around it. The dahlias in the Shrubbery are all self-sown, a mixture of scarlet-red, magenta-red and soft-orange. The mauve Lavatera is simultaneously flowering, and the resulting colour combination is not so good. An apricot rose might as well join the party!
My plantsman friend has given me some little treasures: three Lunaria annua 'Corfu Blue' seedlings (I'm expecting blue-white, but still very excited), two Clematises (Vyvian Pennell and a wilsonii, considered fragrant), a small-flowered Fuchsia (ex-Botanic Gardens - does this mean a sneaky cutting popped into plastic in a coat pocket?), and a Calceolaria integrifolia (red flowers). Proper plantspeople name their plants fully, don't they...
- My Incinerator :
- Little, cute to look at, and easy to drag around. I use it mainly for burning the driveway leaves.
I've been trying to watch the cricket, but find myself falling asleep, so I'm giving myself the full caffeine coffee treatment. Anyway, I have to keep popping outside to refill my little incinerator, out by the patio merrily puffing smoke. Right. Time for some piano practice, with the cricket on in the background. It's a five day test match, after all.
Saturday 24th March
So what's today's plan? There isn't a plan? Oh really? I'm sure I can find something to do, apart from sweeping up leaves from the patio and photographing the very first autumn leaves. For a start, all those Shasta daisy stalks can be cut down. And a load of compost is needed for the Septic Tank Garden. And how about some weeding and edge trimming of lawns? Ha! Planning all done in a jiffy. Now comes the harder part, the doing thereof, without any moaning or grumping.
A Few Hours Later...
All my plans have turned to custard. I've been digging out the remaining Lamium from the Septic Tank Garden, and wheeling in loads of bonfire ash. It's almost too windy to get the compost - we'll lose some of it on the drive home. In fact the wind is annoying me, interrupting my train of thought (which is more like a lumbering, uninspiring coal train than a sleek going-places express). I need some inspiration. But, thinking this through, if I'm merely going to be shovelling ash, I don't really need to be feeling creative.
Little Mac the Gardening Kitten
Now just wait a moment. I've seen some Agapanthus deep in the Apple Tree Garden, completely shaded and covered by self-sown Pittosporums. Now I remember - I planted this in here years ago. It can come out and go on the edge of the Frisbee Lawn. This will give a little boost to the rest of my day. I'm not moaning or grumping - honestly!
I redeemed myself. We got the compost, and I barrowed in six loads, plus ten more loads of wet ash from the bonfire. I just plodded back and forth (followed by faithful Little Mac the kitten) and thought about the pizza I was going to make (and eat) for the evening meal. Non-Gardening Partner mowed the house lawns - well, most of them. Driving around on a ride-on mower must be more relaxing and easier than shovelling compost.
- Charles the Ram :
- Charles is quite a gentle ram to handle. When he first came to Mooseys he hid in the hedge for three days.
It's not fair - on our property the countrywoman never gets to use the mower. Should I demand equality? Hmm... Do I really want to clean Charles the merino ram's bottom? Aargh! Not a pleasant thought. Change the subject - the pizza is ready, and I'm going to watch the rugby with a cold beer.
Sunday 25th March
Good morning to Fluff-Fluff the cat, sitting on 'his' seat wedged up close to mine. If I don't provide such for his furry bottom he sits on the computer keyboard - Fluff-Fluff needs to be as close to my hands as is felinely possible. Each morning we have this cute mutual grooming session. I clean his eyes and get the biddi-bids out of his fur, he washes my fingers. Tickly!
Bumble Bee on Pink Roses
Right. I've only got the morning to garden, so I'd better get started.
Apple Blossom Rose
I just can't help myself. I am addicted! There they were, six garden gnomes, and only three that I wanted anyway, but I've bought them. Ouch! Hopeless. And the only reason I came inside was that my gardening was going so slowly, as was the cricket. I thought some decaffeinated coffee might wake me up by association. And then I checked my mail, and...
I've only dumped one load of compost, dug out a scruffy native Cortaderia grass, had the tiniest bonfire of leaves from the Driveway, dug out and replanted that Agapanthus, scattered horse manure around, and taken some photographs of the Flower Carpet roses. The Apple Blossom one is looking particularly lovely. I took pictures of several snoozing bumble bees (I hope that's what they were doing) and tried to hold camera really still.
Now, garden gnome penance. I hereby declare that I, Moosey, will wheel one barrow of compost over to the Septic Tank Garden for each gnome I have inadvertently purchased. Then I will practice my choir concert songs. Hands up anyone else who thinks that Mendelssohn dribbles on and on and on, though he can write quite beautiful dribble, hee hee...