So it's mid-winter - is it too early to prune the roses? And a practical question, regarding the comfort of my bottom : is it too wet to sit down in the garden and do some weeding? The answer to both questions is probably 'yes and no'. Hmm...
Sunday 26th June
Mid-winter tends to bring out the unpredictable in me. Yesterday I remembered a list I'd written some days ago, which I'd then ignored. So I immediately decided to revisit it and do all the items thereon, just to be random.
And today I am going to float around and do only what I see needs doing. Which is a lot, in a lot of garden areas. Then I am going to write a retrospective feel-good list of things that I've done.
So here's my list of done stuff. I've had a great time doing it all.
- I potted up all my little Phormium pieces.
- I dug out John Clare and Gertrude Jeckyll (two struggling roses) and put them in pots.
- I cleared the wee garden by the Sleep-Out, trimming ferns, digging up Carexes, and so on. Dug out some Heuchera which wasn't growing well and put the pieces in a pot.
- I raked up all my mess for the bonfire, and lit it.
- I hung my washing on the line and remembered to get it in before dark.
Sorry about that last item. This was supposed to be a gardening list.
Red Cordylines and Pittosporums
The little wax-eyes are finally eating their fruit and their lard ball. Blackbirds (or starlings? or both?) have arrived to eat the Crab-Apples. One of the gum trees is in flower, and I now have three different bell-birds in my garden. What I mean is that I hear three different distinct songs.
The Sorcerer's Apprentice?
This newest bird whistles the first three notes of The Sorcerer's Apprentice by Dukas. This makes me giggle - I can just see a host of Mickey Mouses marching around the corner of the driveway with little brooms. If they were marching with little rakes and shovels they could do some serious work for me.
So Non-Gardening Partner has gone for a swim, but I am feeling a bit lazy - have been gardening for over three hours, sitting down (it wasn't too wet), getting up, kneeling down, getting up, plodding along to and from the bonfire with the wheel-barrow. I reckon I've had my exercise.
Monday 27th June
Oh dear. It is a most dreary, damp, bleak, cold, uninspiring, gloomy, grey day. Enough adjectives? All I've done outside is to walk the dogs - I am not tempted to do any gardening. Feeling very moochy - I am allowed one hopeless day per week, so this is it!
Tuesday 28th June
Another most dreary, damp, bleak, cold, uninspiring, gloomy, grey day. But already I've been for a swim, met my friend for coffee, and wandered (successfully) around a favourite Op Shop (Habitat For Humanity). When I got home I relit the log-burner and reminded myself how fortunate I am to have instant winter warmth and shelter. Then I sorted out some clothes to be thrown out (i.e. recycled), created five pairs of woolly socks out of a host of singles, sorted out the library books to be returned, and tidied my bathroom. Such a day cannot be considered hopeless, even if I don't do any gardening.
Actually it's a day where I wish I had a pair of instant slippers. I mean ones which just slip on, without anything needing to be pushed or manipulated, or done up, or the person (me) needing to bend over.
Right. I've just taken my dogs for their second walk, and brought in more firewood. The garden looks lovely with all its greenery and brownery.