Mess. Mess. More mess. This has been the messiest January on record. And I've been very busy making even more mess - almost on an industrial scale! Not fair - I always thought that February was the messy month in my garden. Aargh! Dread to think how that will turn out!
Buster on the Back Lawn
I wouldn't want anyone to come and visit my garden at the moment. There's far too much that needs cleaning up, cutting down, putting right. Not a good feeling.
What's to blame?
Blame the weather? Stinking hot days and blustery winds encouraging the Eucalyptus trees to shed bark and branches. Blame my Phormium Chopping Obsession? Reckon I've spent over thirty hours this month painstakingly deconstructing overgrown flaxes.
Get over yourself, stop moaning, and doing something about it.
Time to sort this out. My advice to myself : 'Get over yourself, stop moaning, and doing something about it.' Fair enough. Will make a coffee and then we'll see how I get on.
It's all in the detail, and bothering to do some creative, ornamental little things. And planting plants - such a positive thing, bringing instant balance and a smidgen of happiness to the gloomy. So I've been working at details behind the Stables. I've dug out Calamagrostis grasses (poorly positioned in the shade) and potted them up. I've trimmed the big lemonwood Pittosporum to clear the air above the grass path.
Behind the Stables
I've trimmed the coloured Phormium hybrid, and planted clumps of miniature Agapanthus around the edge of the garden. Dug out the rose Kronenbourg, and put it in a pot. Also found some remains of Bergenia cilata, dug them and potted them, too. And I've raked up most of the mess.
Happy gardens grow a lot...
Gardens grow. Happy gardens which are well fed and watered grow a lot. I must not blame myself for over-growth. Not can I blame others - for example, my plantsman friend, who gave me some beautiful bamboo, and assured me it was non-invasive. It has quite the opposite outlook on life. Oops.
Non-Gardening Partner appeared late in the day, chain-sawed down two dead Hebes and a dead Cordyline, and knocked the top off a Phormium stump. Yeay! He is pragmatic and supportive when I get bogged down like this : 'It's that time of year.' he tells me, then he asks me if I am OK. Nice.
There is an indirect reason for this gloomy mood. Something has been bugging me for a few weeks. A women's group had asked if they could come for a garden tour. Really wanted to say yes. Aargh! This morning I saw sense and said no. Phew!