Planting and shifting
I'm busy planting and shifting things around, a task which requires thinking ahead. A place for everything, and everything in its place. More specifically, roses, perennials, peonies, and hostas are NOT allowed to sneak into vegetable gardens or potato patches.
Thursday 25th August
I've had to 'reclaim' this year's potato patch. It was full of foxgloves and Lychnis plants, all self-seeded, all grown very bulky, looking happy and satisfied with their lot. As they should be - loads of compost and organic matter have gone into the Allotment Garden. And an Allotment Garden is allowed to be a mix-up of gardening genres, but there is a limit!
I need to be doing the same thing in the vegetable garden at the back of the house. Last year I had some recycled roses needing a forever home, and just because the edge of the garden was curved I planted them around it. I mean - whatever is a curve for, if not for roses? Hmm. This is not necessarily good gardening sense. It's a bit like my brick Herb Spiral, crammed full of the oddest non-herby things (a Spiraea shrub, Bowles Golden grass, variegated liriope, spring daffodils, dianthus). Oh well - there are some herbs therein. But the marjoram (oreganum?) is a bossy nuisance, self-seeding everywhere. Story of my life - another seedy weedy plant for me to try and keep control of.
+10+10But first - the dog park! The highlight of my social calendar, a gentle walk around with my friends and their dogs, the 9am Rolleston Ladies Pack. We've been rudely described as a bunch of old chooks. Not me! I am a strider and a pointer-atter (we're going this way! this way!) and an expert thrower of moon balls for Winnie. Rusty carries his around in his mouth, and will not drop it.
Cordyline Electric Flash
I have been working hard, spreading bags of compost and further fixing up the little stone wall garden, which wasn't properly level. I've pulled out clumps of struggling Stachys, and I've potted them up. Meanwhile Rusty (who as my senior dog should be setting an example) has rolled in something disgraceful. Pat this dog (as I've just done) at your peril!
Friday 26th August
My gardening August has been going so well, and I had such big plans for today. Shift this, weed that, take more photographs of the early rhododendrons - but it's been steadily raining since we got back from the dog park.
So all I've done is fill the private bird feeders with banana, and the main dishes with pineapple and a butcher's bird-ball. This is after popping in at the nursery and buying (oops) the most gorgeous striped Cordyline hybrid ever seen by gardening woman. Or man.
Red Rhododendron Kaponga
But I'm very, very pleased that I spread that compost yesterday. The rain is desperately needed, and I'm loving listening to it. And it means that I don't have to water my new potted pansies etc. And hey! I could even do some housework...
Sunday 28th August
Yeay for me. My jazz choir concert last night was soooooooooo groovy. I had a madly noisy night's sleep afterwards, with music blatting around inside my head. So what's the first thing I did this morning, even before gardening? Wrote a choir arrangement for Mac the Knife, 'helped' by Buster. Daft!
But now it's late, and I've spent a good six hours continuing yesterday's weeding and sorting out efforts. I'm working my way along the edge of the lawn towards the glass-house. I've gpt the ladies' spade working on the dandelion roots, and I'm dumping the soft green weeds underneath the hedge. Three barrowfuls, so far! Yesterday I relocated all the roses and perennials from the vegetable garden. They've all been popped in my the pergola, just a wee trip. A place for everything, and everything in a much more sensible place.