Today I finally got out into the garden to plant the bulbs Faye gave me. Seventy (approximately) daffodil bulbs. To be honest I only planted about half of them, and so far only in the front garden. But I also hauled a big bag of soil improver out of the car boot, where it's been sitting for weeks, and spread it around, plus I did some major weeding and pruning, and planted a skimmia (another gift from Faye).
The honeysuckle is showing lots of tiny new shoots so should come away in the spring. The climbing rose doesn't look great, so fingers crossed. I'll give it a good feed later on.
If the weather forecast is wrong and it isn't too foul at the weekend I should be able to plant the rest of the bulbs out the back. Which is looking pretty terrible thanks to Bertie's latest gardening experiments. He always looks so innocent when he comes in with his back covered in dirt and his toes full of leaf-mould and roots. If the predicted gale-force winds do sweep in I'll plant the bulbs in pots.
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
29 December 2006
14 March 2001
Gardening frenzy today: I moved two more hydrangea bushes to the front, where they'll probably wither and die from lack of sunlight. It's north-facing, and they're tucked in behind the fence so they won't even get all the morning sun. Hah! Take that you ... plant. I'm sure hydrangeas are lovely in some people's eyes. Not mine. They're old-lady plants (not that I have anything against old ladies of course). These ones are especially manky -- insipid not-quite-blue with a tink of pink [tink? that was meant to be tinge, but I prefer tink] and feeble spindly stalks with a few leaves. I tossed them a handful of compost, maybe that'll perk them up if the shock of being moved doesn't kill them. That leaves one still in the soon-to-be blackcurrant patch. Someone suggested I leave it in the streeet with a note: "Free to Good Home".
Had a chat with Frances next door, who tells me the bulbs coming up in the front are bluebells. I dug a load of them up during a heavy weeding session last year, damn. Anyway they reproduce themselves so probably no harm in thinning them out a bit. Everything is budding or already leafing out, you can nearly hear some plants growing they're shoving out foliage so fast. The honeysuckle is doing well after being bashed about by various tradesmen, and the rose bush out the back is coming away nicely too.
The elder at the back is also sprouting. Frances says her husband cut it down for Mrs Blacker a few years ago but it just grew back. I might cut it down too -- it only managed to squeeze out a few pathetic bunches of flowers and berries last year. I'd rather put an apple tree in there. The trouble is, you'd have to kill it stone dead, not sure how to do that without resorting to poison.
Next on the gardening agenda is reseeding the lawns -- they are both a mess of weeds and moss and crap (literally -- courtesy of the birds). Last year it was tragic looking out the upstairs window, my lawn and Jim & Rosemary's were like an advert for before and after -- guess whose was the "before". At the moment it's even worse, because I tramped around on the grass while it was frozen, a big no-no. It's all dead-looking and yellow between the steps and the bird-feeders.
Tomorrow after the windows bloke comes back with the mended window I'm going to the tile shop to drool over splashback solutions, then to see Best in Show. I need a week off, not just a day.
Had a chat with Frances next door, who tells me the bulbs coming up in the front are bluebells. I dug a load of them up during a heavy weeding session last year, damn. Anyway they reproduce themselves so probably no harm in thinning them out a bit. Everything is budding or already leafing out, you can nearly hear some plants growing they're shoving out foliage so fast. The honeysuckle is doing well after being bashed about by various tradesmen, and the rose bush out the back is coming away nicely too.
The elder at the back is also sprouting. Frances says her husband cut it down for Mrs Blacker a few years ago but it just grew back. I might cut it down too -- it only managed to squeeze out a few pathetic bunches of flowers and berries last year. I'd rather put an apple tree in there. The trouble is, you'd have to kill it stone dead, not sure how to do that without resorting to poison.
Next on the gardening agenda is reseeding the lawns -- they are both a mess of weeds and moss and crap (literally -- courtesy of the birds). Last year it was tragic looking out the upstairs window, my lawn and Jim & Rosemary's were like an advert for before and after -- guess whose was the "before". At the moment it's even worse, because I tramped around on the grass while it was frozen, a big no-no. It's all dead-looking and yellow between the steps and the bird-feeders.
Tomorrow after the windows bloke comes back with the mended window I'm going to the tile shop to drool over splashback solutions, then to see Best in Show. I need a week off, not just a day.
12 March 2001
Renovation update: The windows bloke came, as arranged, to take away the defective unit. The piece of Very Strong plywood he'd brought to leave in its place was a foot too short. He'd done the meauring, someone else had done the cutting. Luckily I have plenty of top quality laminate offcuts in the shed, so he used one of them to bodge a solution. Burglars note: it is Very Secure.
I was watching the bloke (forgot to ask his name again) taking out the unit and noticed a sudden shower of the tiny beads inside it. Peering closer I saw they were pouring out of a hole in the inside of the frame. The bloke said someone had driven a screw through it.
"I'm surprised the chaps who installed it didn't notice," I said.
The look he gave me spoke volumes. It said: "Nothing surprises me, I've seen it all. They probably did notice and didn't say anything to save themselves the hassle of replacing it. They might even have done the damage themselves." He didn't say a word. Extremely eloquent though.
After that I faddled around carrying furniture and pot plants upstairs, had lunch and did some gardening -- inspired by the Marshalls Kitchen Gardener's catalogue that came through the post this morning. I weeded the beds out the back and sprinkled round a bit of stinky compost I bought last year. It's a concentrated manure and seaweed blend, so it's foul. I also shifted one of the hydrangeas from its prime position to the back of the back yard. I thought there was just one big plant, but there are four of them, bunched together. I don't know what to do with the others, I might put them out the front. I don't like hydrangeas much. I'm going to plant blackcurrants in their place, and possibly raspberries.
In the next week or so, weather permitting, I'll extend the bed I've been digging along the fence, ready for rocket and runner beans. I've already got the rocket seed. I'm going to get Red Rum beans, "an amazing development", according to the catalogue. "It can set beans under all sorts of conditions by self-polliination so that it outcrops all the standard varieties." There's even a testimonial from Mr S. Freeman in Essex. I just like the way they look, twining up a wigwam of poles, covered in scarlet flowers. Also pondering courgettes (Kojac, a compact, spineless variety you can grow in the patio) and strawberries (Marshmello -- "combines a wonderful old-fashioned flavour and aroma with reliability in varied conditions"). I'd like to grow tomatoes in the tiny patio bit out the back, it gets really hot out there and is sheltered too. Carefree appeals: "Plant it, forget it -- well, almost! -- until you start to pick the masses of fruits."
The catalogue is so seductive, everything looks delicious. All kinds of unusual things too -- salsify, seakale, chinese water convolvulus. Argh! I've just seen something called Land Cress, which looks just like what I weeded out of the garden this afternoon! Hmmm, maybe not...
Mushrooms too. That would be a little creepy though, "pre-spawned compost" cooking away in a cupboard. Also they present the same problem as the rest of the catalogue: vast quantities. Raspberries: 12 canes. Rhubarb: 3 crowns. Mangetout: 18ft row. I'd open the door and the cupboard would be full of glowing white fungi. Mushroom omlette, anyone? Spaghetti sauce? I could always freeze stuff, I guess. Yeah right.
The tile guy rang with a quote, quite reasonable. I need three square metres of tiles, he says. So I'll go in to the shop tomorrow and get some samples to take home and try against the decor. Deciding on colours should only take six months or so.
I was watching the bloke (forgot to ask his name again) taking out the unit and noticed a sudden shower of the tiny beads inside it. Peering closer I saw they were pouring out of a hole in the inside of the frame. The bloke said someone had driven a screw through it.
"I'm surprised the chaps who installed it didn't notice," I said.
The look he gave me spoke volumes. It said: "Nothing surprises me, I've seen it all. They probably did notice and didn't say anything to save themselves the hassle of replacing it. They might even have done the damage themselves." He didn't say a word. Extremely eloquent though.
After that I faddled around carrying furniture and pot plants upstairs, had lunch and did some gardening -- inspired by the Marshalls Kitchen Gardener's catalogue that came through the post this morning. I weeded the beds out the back and sprinkled round a bit of stinky compost I bought last year. It's a concentrated manure and seaweed blend, so it's foul. I also shifted one of the hydrangeas from its prime position to the back of the back yard. I thought there was just one big plant, but there are four of them, bunched together. I don't know what to do with the others, I might put them out the front. I don't like hydrangeas much. I'm going to plant blackcurrants in their place, and possibly raspberries.
In the next week or so, weather permitting, I'll extend the bed I've been digging along the fence, ready for rocket and runner beans. I've already got the rocket seed. I'm going to get Red Rum beans, "an amazing development", according to the catalogue. "It can set beans under all sorts of conditions by self-polliination so that it outcrops all the standard varieties." There's even a testimonial from Mr S. Freeman in Essex. I just like the way they look, twining up a wigwam of poles, covered in scarlet flowers. Also pondering courgettes (Kojac, a compact, spineless variety you can grow in the patio) and strawberries (Marshmello -- "combines a wonderful old-fashioned flavour and aroma with reliability in varied conditions"). I'd like to grow tomatoes in the tiny patio bit out the back, it gets really hot out there and is sheltered too. Carefree appeals: "Plant it, forget it -- well, almost! -- until you start to pick the masses of fruits."
The catalogue is so seductive, everything looks delicious. All kinds of unusual things too -- salsify, seakale, chinese water convolvulus. Argh! I've just seen something called Land Cress, which looks just like what I weeded out of the garden this afternoon! Hmmm, maybe not...
Mushrooms too. That would be a little creepy though, "pre-spawned compost" cooking away in a cupboard. Also they present the same problem as the rest of the catalogue: vast quantities. Raspberries: 12 canes. Rhubarb: 3 crowns. Mangetout: 18ft row. I'd open the door and the cupboard would be full of glowing white fungi. Mushroom omlette, anyone? Spaghetti sauce? I could always freeze stuff, I guess. Yeah right.
The tile guy rang with a quote, quite reasonable. I need three square metres of tiles, he says. So I'll go in to the shop tomorrow and get some samples to take home and try against the decor. Deciding on colours should only take six months or so.
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