Pots and Percy...
So here I am, and my garden is out there, and the whole week (which has promised faithfully to be windless) stretches out in front of me. I have some ideas, but they are gentle in nature. I might frighten them away if I wrote a list. Perhaps a rambling paragraph?
Tuesday 22nd October
My first plan concerns 'doing' my pots. Gardeners know that can mean a variety of things. I have specific 'doings' to do.
A Real Country Rose
I'm going to repot and shift all the pretty little red Maple seedlings. I'm going to scoop up all the tulips so they can die discretely behind the glasshouse (something I rather fancy for myself, when my gardening days are over). I'm replacing all polyanthus with pelargoniums and daisies. I'm even going to try some of my flowering annuals in pots.
And There's Garden Maintenance...
Of course there's all the other garden maintenance. I'm also collecting organic matter (home-made compost, shreddings, lawn clippings, manure) for the new Allotment garden down the side of the driveway.
My New Garden
My flower production in the glasshouse needs some input. I'm watering, so the hoses need to be shifted. I need to buy a new hose for the Frisbee Lawn (the lawn mower made some rather tasty hose mincemeat). I need some potting mix. Aha! Perhaps a quick trip out in the car, and I can load the boot up with horse manure (in bags, in bags) on the way home.
Ginger Percy Cat
Lunchtime...
Percy the ginger cat is chirping. If I am eating, then so should he be. But Rusty the dog is not pleased with me. I'm having eggy bread for lunch and there are no crusts for him. If general grubbiness is anything to go by I have had a most successful morning. It's hard to hug a large pot and shake out the contents without getting really dirty. I am on track. I've raked up and spread more grass clippings, and I've cranked up the bonfire. More small tree branches came down in the wind yesterday.
I hope my summer pots will not be boring. They are filled either with variegated pelargoniums, white perennial daisies, or yellow annual daisies. A choice of three...
Much, Much Later...
Wow. I've been gardening for six solid hours. I'm having a glass of wine, so that gives me a window of lucidity of about one hour to write up my journal, talk to Non-Gardening Partner, and watch more of The Hobbit. Oops - just remembered, I've left the rake in the middle of the Frisbee Lawn. The super-strong lawn mower would just love to make leaf rake mincemeat. Back in a tick.
Agnes Rugosa Rose
Phew! Organising and shifting pots around seems a lightweight and inconsequential way to spend most of the day, but the results will be as spectacular as the watering regime they require throughout summer. Hmm...
Wednesday 23rd October
+15Percy (my ginger cat) has a new trick. I am used to his noisy leaps through the cottage window in the middle of the night. Kerplunk! Chirp! But he now requires confirmation that yes, he is indeed Percy, that is his name, and he, Percy, has arrived on my window sill. So he waits and chirps - and chirps, and keeps on chirping - until I coherently and lovingly say his name out loud. This is impossible to do whilst asleep. Popping in for affirmation every two hours... Yawn! And would I prefer a boy-cat miaowing sound in the wee small hours? Aargh! Maybe not...
Primrose by the Water
Fuzzy-Headed...
So I'm Still sitting here, fuzzy-headed, wondering when the coffee will kick in. The classic good morning music is Mozart, and the sun is just peeping through outside. Life is good, though. I'm finishing my pots today. I've already watered the ones by the cottage. I've found another Maple tree seedling (potted) to move with the others.
Do you know, I might even do some garden maintenance. A disturbed night does not necessarily produce a disturbed mind. I take my responsibilities to my garden most seriously. I can hear all the shot-weeds, shouting rudely. Weed me! Weed me! Weed me again!
Five Hours Later...
I worked until lunchtime doing exactly the same things as I did yesterday. Then I had a rather scary thought. Aargh! If asked that old-person's question : 'What day of the week is it?', I wouldn't have known if it was today or yesterday. Garden-dementia would have been the kindest diagnosis. So I immediately zoomed off to do something completely different, something suitable for a Wednesday.
The choice was brilliant - a spot of tidying in the Stumpy (AKA Willow Tree) Garden, whose surviving rhododendrons have bounced back with tremendous colour and flair. I trimmed a squashed Phormium, pruned and tied up Lady Hillingdon (she's a climbing rose), and retrieved lots of smaller gum and pine branches from ground level. But the rhododendrons warranted some quality time. So I retired to a blue garden seat to just sit, look, and give thanks. Huge, heartfelt thanks.
One month ago none of this was visible. The hugest of gum trees had crashed down all over the border. Some of the survivors are leaning over at rakish angles, and one with more space to grow (and a label, what's more) is flowering for the first time. Hello, Alice! Now you're a pretty thing, aren't you? I'll bet you're glad that monster tree came down and flattened your neighbour (who had the foresight to have layered itself). Thanks, Blue Wave.
So Thankful...
There's much less lasting damage than I'd expected, and for this I am so thankful to nature. Even roses which were stripped and squashed have now sprouted, and are almost flowering. This is a really beautiful place to sit and stare.
Cornubia :- Only one flower this year.
Fancy finding Alice... See, sometimes I am not so hopeless at recording and labelling things. And, what's more, the big red rhododendron in the Driveway Garden is Cornubia. Brilliant detective work, even if I say so myself. Sometimes I'm so thankful for those rambling paragraphs...