Swirly wall

Getting stuff done

This year's growing season has coincided with me really struggling to get out there. I've got into a habit of starting lots of jobs, both inside the house & out, & then not finishing any of them.

Jobs stall for lots of reasons, it seems: hitting a tricky problem; bad weather; busy social diary, lack of energy; biting off more than I can chew... & the blog has suffered as I prefer to cover multi-stage jobs in a single post.

One productivity technique I'm trying to apply is "Even a little is more that none" - if I chip away at something, then at least it's progressing. Moving slowly is better than not moving at all.

Big Orange House

One of the reasons we think this house was on the market for nearly 2 years was the colour. It's peddle-dashed all over & was painted orange. Bright orange. All of it.

It was meant to be terracotta, apparently - inspiration taken from the previous owners' love of Mediterranean holidays. However, it seems the local decorator struggled to match the colour. After the job was done, the owners were unhappy. So the painter tried again, knocking back the orange with what appears to have been a thin white wash. This turned the orange to a baby pink instead... Another row ensued & the painter stormed off site. & that's how it was when we moved in - orange, with a massive pink rectangle covering half a gable end. Distinctive, & an aide to navigation - you certainly know when you've arrived.

This Spring we went for a walk down the local woods. Looking back towards the village, we could see a shabby-looking 2-tone wall on the top of the hill... Yep, that's our house. Hubby was appalled & bought paint immediately - this job had rocketed to the top of his "Do that which pisses you off the most" list. I asked him to save me a wall.

Saturday 21 May

I had a whole weekend free so I made a start.

The last orange wall on the Big Orange House

The plan was to clear the bed, paint the wall, & then plant a fig.

 

As soon as we saw the house, we were talking about painting groovy things on the walls. There's just so much space, so many surfaces, that it just screams to be messed about with.

 

I'm a big fan of Op-artist Bridget Riley & I thought it'd be great to attempt to recreate one of her striking paintings. A quick Google, found this:

Intake
Bridget Riley
1964

A bit of strategic extension right & bottom was required to make it fit.

Sunday 22 May

I cleared the plants on day 1; day 2 was all about wall prep. There was quite a bit of loose render so all flaky bits were scrubbed/hacked off.

The grey/white on the left was the original colour.
Holes left by trellis fixings were filled.
Thankfully, the render over the whole house is in really good shape.

Scaling up using the grid technique.
It's a bit long-winded, but I'm not skilled enough to draw it freehand.
 I thought about projecting it, but didn't have a projector...

Starting to block in.

End of the weekend & the structure is mostly done.
The top left was proving very fiddly,
but the design was working just as I hoped it would.

Tues 7 June

Took advantage of a beautiful long evening to get some orange on. I can now see why the house ended up orange in the 1st place - this is Sandtex's Terracota... No, I can't spot the difference either.

Definition added to fiddly top left

And this is how the swirly wall stayed for the rest of the Summer. I got out a few times to add 2nd coats, sort out edges & crisp up lines, but never long enough to get it finished.

 

It's right by the kitchen window, so I'd see it every night as I did the washing up, reminding me I hadn't finished it yet.

 

Hubby has spent the Summer photographing around it, & not telling people about it - not wanting to steal my thunder. A few visitors have had sneak peeks, & thankfully the neighbours approve (both of the house being white again, & of the swirly bit).

 

Sunday 11 Sept

Sticking the kettle on this morning, looking at the beautiful sunny day, it occurred - shit, it's getting into Autumn. There's going to be precious few days as glorious as this. Best get some work done on the damned wall!

Spot the difference with the last pic.
Yep, we're getting into the realm of stuff that bugs me
that no one else can see...

That'll do.

Is it finished?

Well, that's tricky. Some of the lines could be smoother, some of the edges could be sharper. But my mind is flashing me warning images of Father Ted tapping the dent out of the raffle car... so I think I'll try & call that "Good enough".

The fig will go in when it arrives - it's a cutting from a friend. I hope it enjoys its glamorous new home.

3 part hack - part 1

Radio silence

Not a lot of writing last year, but not a lot of gardening either. Sometimes life clubs you round the head & you have to take time out.

Some folk find gardening helps when they're low. Not me, unfortunately. I tend to hermit myself away to get better. Sadly, neglecting the garden becomes just something else to get anxious about. However, I know I'm coming out the other side when I find myself pulling on my boots & grabbing the secateurs...
 

Pruning

It strikes fear into the heart of the dabbling gardener. The nemesis of many. The TV experts smugly smile as they assure & reassure us that pruning is easy; nothing to worry about. But that's why I started this blog - I've a 50:50 success rate with things like pruning. It seems no matter what I read before I cut, I always find out, when it dies, I had the exception (I'm looking at you, Hebes...)

But I try to be brave. After all, if we don't prune here, our garden will become part of the woods & the lawns will be reclaimed by brambles.
 

Reigning in the brutes

In the mature garden that came with this house, many shrubs have romped. With each one there's the task to identify what it is & then decide what we want to do with its shape.

Typically, the plant most in need of a haircut remains an enigma - still no idea what it is. But it overhangs the drive & gets bashed by delivery vans.

Pruning issues unpicked

Unpicking what I've read about pruning over the years, I suspect the reason the advice seems so complex is the experts are addressing several issues at once, without telling us they're doing that. From what I can see, it breaks down like this:

1. Will I kill it?
1. Will it regrow from old wood?
2. If I prune it at this time of the year, will it be more vulnerable to disease/attack/weather?
2. Will pruning lead to a better plant?
   More fruit, more flowers, more manageable/attractive shape.
3. Will it look bad this year?
   Losing this year's flowers/fruit.

I've ordered these from Crisis to Is That Even A Thing. When you're unsure what you're doing, the key issue is the 1st one - the others are just laughable whimsical luxuries; potentially so ludicrously expert considerations they're not even on the radar.

Most of my pruning still focuses on Question 1.

Will I kill it? Old wood or green wood

This is the big one. The plant can probably recover from any other pruning mistake.

Some plants you can scalp back to the ground & they'll happily throw out new shoots from the base. Anyone who has tried to prune a privet to death, & failed, has experienced this.

However, some plants can only produce new shoots on green wood - this or last year's growth. Cutting too far into the old wood is how I've killed at least 2 Thymes. I've also seen plenty of conifer hedges trimmed back into the old wood that never green up again.

If you don't know what's right for your plant, definitely look it up. If you can't find the info, err on the side of caution.

Will I kill it? Making it vulnerable

Dormant
For most things, the advice is to do major pruning when the plant is dormant, which usually means in Winter.

If you hack at it in the Summer, when the plant is in the middle of its big number, it risks throwing its sap everywhere & not having enough leaves to feed itself. This probably won't kill it, but it'll put it under a lot of stress, which can be the shoo in that attacking insects & fungi are waiting for.

Frost damage
Pruning in Winter can leave the plant more at risk from Jack Frost nipping at the cut ends. However, this isn't usually a death sentence. The damage tends to only be 1 node's worth - it'll just mean it'll re-sprout a little further back from where you pruned. Besides, the plant is used to a bit of Winter battering - that's why it does the dormancy thang in the first place.

Disease/attack
Just like us, when a plant gets a cut, that cut can get infected. If the sap is flowing, it can be party time for insects such as aphids. Also, if there's fungal spores around the cut, there's a risk that the sap will take them into & around the rest of the plant. These risks are minimised when you prune a dormant plant.

Summer trims
All of which makes it sound like you should only prune in Winter, but that's not strictly true either. It's often fine to do small trims in the Summer - you can see the final shape better when the leaves are on. Plus, dead heading is a pruning job & that can encourage the plant to produce more flowers for longer. Just leave the big hacks 'til the plant has had its Winter general anaesthetic.

Tell me I'm wrong

So if you're more expert than me (not hard), & you're reading this thinking "Well, that's wrong, & that's total horse", please let me know & I'll correct it.

An experiment

So, given all that, I'm at step 1 with the leggy shrubby drive-side thing - trying not to kill it. Last year I tried a light test prune: if I chop it back into the old wood, will it regrow from just behind the cut?

The result: a bit meh. It put on new growth (yay!) but it was a bit pathetic (boo).

We'll have to take this gently then.
 

Working with what we've got

Hacking it right back I suspect will just kill it. But leaving it fairly big is not all bad - the leaves are now mostly about head height, revealing some interesting branches below.

Interesting stems

I've heard about 'lifting the crown', often used to give a more architectural shape to trees & big shrubs, so I think I'll try that.
 

A prune in 3 parts

For less vigorous plants, I've read that pruning in 3s is less traumatic for the plant - take out a third in the 1st year, another third the next year, & the final third in year 3.

This is my plan.
 

Before & after

Apologies for poor pics. My vision's starting to change, so it's getting hard to tell if I've taken a decent photo :/ plus I'm impatient...

A little off the top

Thinning out the sides

It really doesn't look like much does it? But the clippings filled the dumpy bag* to over half way.

* The huge sack you get when order sand or gravel in bulk.
 

I did prune, honest

Doing the heavy lifting

Off to the tip with trimmings, & I was a little nervous. Last time I went, the staff just about barged me out of the way to tip the clippings into the skip. I fucking hate that. It may take me a little more time (a whole minute), but I will do it myself, & if I need help I will ask. What strength I have will evaporate if others do the all heavy lifting for me. It's a fine line between politeness, micro-aggression & overt sexism.

Fortunately this time they didn't spot me til I was all done :)

Volunteering at the Crisis allotment

Recently, a gardening crisis means fretting that it's been an age since I actually got out there & did something. But not today.

Work recently instigated a Corporate Social Responsibility programme, so we now get 2 days paid leave to do volunteer our services to anyone who will have us. A mate of mine works for Crisis so I put my name forward to do anything for them that didn't involve rattling a tin out on the streets. To my delight, they suggested I spend a day helping out on their allotment - score!

The Greenfingers project was set up 3 years ago by Cath, a therapist at NECA & keen gardener. Securing allotments is one of the dark arts, often a long game of patience. Cath side-stepped the usual wait using the traditional man-on-the-inside technique. A previous client already had a plot & put in a good word with the committee. In 3 years, Cath & her volunteers have transformed the vacant plot.

Recently, NECA have started collaborating with Crisis on the project, which is a great fit as the organisations have overlapping concerns. The volunteers at the garden are a mix of staff members, clients of NECA & Crisis, and their support workers. Dom is Cath's equivalent from Crisis, & he teaches DIY skills.

The main agenda for the day was: Paint the new shed. Installed recently as a classroom & bad weather bolt hole, their new shed is great, if controversial - the team are taking some heat from allotment neighbours about it, so we best get painting quick.

The rain kept off most of the morning & we got the lion's share of it done with me on the roller & my colleague Mick doing the fiddly bits by brush.

When Barry, a project client, arrived & looked like he wanted to join in the painting work, I handed over my roller & snapped a few pics.

I also got chatting to Alfie (the aforementioned man-on-the-inside) & he insisted on showing me around his own plot (mostly veg, small koi pond) & that of his neighbour (hens, dahlias). Alfie is in the middle of tidying up from a recent unwelcome visit - some vandals got in, smashed up a bunch of his pots, wrecked a number of plants. So sad, but he was remarkably chipper about it all. He also insisted I take a small round yellow courgette & a house plant.

Back at Greenfingers as a light drizzle started & it was lunchtime, provided by the Crisis Skylight Café. Some of the veg grown on the plot supplies the Café. The gardeners are also preparing to enter the Civic Show this weekend, so Cath was busy selecting & preparing the entries. Rest goes home with the volunteers.

Shower passed & sun back out, Mick got busy with a second coat of stain on the shed, while Barry & I moved on to riddling. Riddling. It's a great word. I remember my Dad using it, but couldn't remember what it meant.

Dom has made a series of raised beds. These are being filled from the spoil heap made when they dug the pond. But the spoil includes all manner of junk including rusty nails, broken glass, stones & huge lumps of clay.

By rubbing the soil over & through a wire mesh, we break up the bigger lumps & fish out the crud.

On the route between the heap & the bed, Barry pointed out to me a rain-filled bucket. The pond might not be finished yet but the pondlife has already moved in. An hour or so later, as we moved a bit of pond liner lying on top of the heap, we spotted a frog too.

By mid afternoon, Dom has finished building another bed. Barry & I riddled a first barrow-load into the new container before Cath called it a day. We wandered home with a bag each of allotment swag & the slight ache from doing something physical all day. I'll enjoy my stretches at yoga tonight.

New house! New garden!

I've been stressing again. Moving house is stressful - we all know that. But I've been topping that stress with a whole bunch of blog guilt. It's a special talent.


But today that ends. I am reminding myself of my 'Post it!' resolution from the blog's First Birthday round-up. I will, as my friend Clair would say, rip it off like a plaster.

So what's the new place like?!

Vast!


Not quite Capability Brown-worthy, but our old back garden would fit into the new one several times over. It took hubby TWO HOURS just to mow The North Lawn. & yes, that means we now have more than 1 lawn - there's a smaller South one too.


I'll get around doing a map & some panoramas & stuff, but in the meantime, here's a few nice pics of some of the plants that came with the place. I freely admit I've no idea what half of the resident greenery is, so I think a horticultural soirée might be helpful - an evening of cake, cava & can-you-tell-me-what-this-is-please?

The new growth on this shrub is much more red than the pink in this pic.
Update from Sharon: "Pieris 'forest flame'"

It's a fairy grotto under one corner of the Big Beech Hedge.
These guys remind me of kodama.



The Cherry Tree on the South Lawn.

Snake's Head Fritillaries! We've always wanted some of these! *dribble*

One of the many large grassy clumps. This one is in the Shed Bed.
Update from Sharon: "Carex pendula"
The wiki page says "preferring damp, heavy clay soils"... sounds about right ;)

We had no idea what the large old tree in the middle of the South Lawn was...
until it flowered. Laburnum it is then.

They've got these in the Farmshop carpark beds & I've always admired them.
We've not got as much as them - only this small clump at the top of the North Lawn.
But it's a start.
Update from Steph & Clare: "Perennial Cornflower".

We brought our own, but there are a lot of ferns here already.
I'm amazed to see Hostas tho' - new place has an abundance of snails AND slugs.

One of the other grassy clumps turned out to be this gorgeous Iris.
This was in the Fence Bed, but there's another clump over in the Birch Bed.

Happy birthday to me-blog thing

26th August was the 1st Anniversary of my 1st post. Coinciding with Summer starting to head for the door, it seems a perfect time to reflect, tho maybe not in South Park style, on what I've learnt.

1. Do structural work in Winter

There were 3 structural jobs I wanted to do this year:

• Stairs & terracing in Stinky Dog Corner.
  Achievement unlocked! (as the kids say)
• Seating semi-circle around the gravel.
  Well I bought the sleepers... That counts as progress, right...?
• Wall consolation & seating in The White Corner.
  Yeah well given how much the wall has moved this year, it'll have demolished itself by the time I get around to it.

The only reason Stinky Dog Stairs got done was cos I did it in Winter (it was snowing ffs, but once I got going I was fine).

Working in Winter has a bunch of advantages:

• I don't overheatKey factor for me as I'm a bit prone to heat stroke.
  Heavy work = Tired.
  Tired + Overcooked brain = Losing a limb.
• No plants to knack
  All the annuals have gone, all the bulbs & most perennials are underground, leaving only me, the shrubs & trees. There's a lot more room to manoeuvre, & a lot less to get precious about, so I can get stuck in.
  
  Later in the year, when everything's up & leafy & growing, it seems like the height of bad manners to turf 'em up & mess 'em about.
  Plus they sulk:

You moved me!

Right in the middle of my big dance number!

How DARE you!

Well tough titty, big boots,

I'm going to cry for the rest of the season

& every time you look at me

you'll know it was

All.

Your.

Fault.

• I have the time
  I like to be a busy bee but things quieten down during the shortest days.

All this said, it would be nice to do the heavy work in more clement weather, but I now know this is delusional thinking. Even if all the above weren't true, big Summer work just won't happen as...

2. Summer is for having a life

I like to do stuff. Lots of stuff. In the Summer there's generally more stuff on. Can't do it all. Weekends get packed out with exciting new opportunities, leaving only the occasional day here & there, maybe the odd evening, to get out into the garden & tidy up a bit.

But that's OK cos...
 

3. Mowing the lawn = instant makeover

Such a quick job, such a transformation.
Dead easy to pop out on a sunny evening & give the grass a quick hoove.
The sharp contrast with the wild & unruly the beds works beautifully.
Full of win!

Unfortunately the mower doesn't quite get
the grass in the path gaps

4. Power tools rock!

As well as the mower, there's my new best friend: the hedge trimmer. Truly, it is a sword of power worthy of Hattori Hanzo himself. Even removing the cover feels like unsheathing a katana of legend.

The hedge trimmer has transformed the biggest job of the year - the annual hedge hack.

In the dark days of yore, attacking the hedge was a gruelling marathon. At least 3 sessions of hacking with shears & loppers, and then several more stuffing the trimmings into bag after bag, garden waste bin load after garden waste bin load.

But not this year - 2 sessions, all done. Woohoo!

Admittedly not all this is down to the awesome power of Excalibur. The odd Spring confused the crap out the laurel. Its initial growth was badly burnt by the late cold snap & only now has it started to recover. But I'll take any assistance on this mammoth task. The laurel is tougher than old boots; it'll be back to fight another year. But this year, it did not claim the lion's share of my Summer garden time, & there are no words for how grateful I am.

Not to say I am completely unscathed tho'...:

A bit of a poor effort by Emo standards

This? Yeah, well I sort of fell through the hedge.
Backwards.
yeah, yeah, laugh it up fuzzball...

I was stood on top of the wall, both hands on Excalibur. I needed to turn around.

When using the shears I'm happy to walk backwards, but when I have the trimmer out I prefer to see exactly where the cable is. 

As I was halfway through my pirouette, I started a slow fall backward... into a gap in the hedge.

Fortunately both hands were off the triggers so the blade wasn't spinning. Plus the hedge gap wasn't quite as wide as me, so I came to rest at a jaunty 45° recline. The ground level is much higher on the hedgeward side so I was able to stand.
In the hedge.
I felt like a pillock.
But it could've been sooooo much worse...

5. The hedge yields weird harvest

No hedge treasure during this year's annual haircut, apart from me, obvs.

The mug I once found in the hedge is a bit tatty so sits at the back of the cupboard & will do for decorating.

The lovely spotty pint glass was perfect & is now my regular garden refreshments glass. It makes me smirk every time I use it.

But it's not all treasure.

There's usually quite a lot of litter. To be expected really on an end of terrace.

The unripe apples were a disappointment - lobbed over the hedge & landing in the gravel with tell tale titchy teeth marks in them. Fortunately, & after a bit of a word, the kids didn't strip the tree completely bare, & 5 apples made it to full size... if not quite full maturity - scrumpers left us with 1, so we snaffled it ourselves.

A bit tart, & hopefully enough next year for a tart

But without doubt the weirdest thing to arrive over the hedge was the rat in a bag. Still no clue what the hell that was all about.

6. You tend vegetables

The flowers, fruit, herbs, trees & shrubs in our garden do a grand job of looking after themselves. Whether I'm out there or not, they carry on regardless.

I was keen to give more veg a go this year, & with hindsight I can see that I expected them to do just what the other plants do & get on with it.

But no. It was a endless round of sewing & potting on & watering & feeding... & I just could not be arsed. By mid-Summer I was proclaiming, loudly, to anyone who would listen & those who couldn't run away, that vegetables were needy. They wilted, they bolted, they got infested, they got nibbled, they got mangled. Jeez, what a bunch of lightweights!

Then I visited my Dad's garden & the truth slapped me in the face:
You get out what you put in.

I'd been expecting a free lunch, but we all know there's no such thing.

It's not been a total disaster though. A couple of tough buggers have soldiered on.

Courgettes

Still going strong, still flowering, still fruiting. The one veg plant that suits my inability to micro-manage.

Courgette flower in full pomp 

Radishes

They worked! First attempt with these this year & they're bright, fresh, crunchy & peppery. I'm chuffed to bits.

All shapes & colours from my mixed seed pack

Their location in the greenhouse might be unconventional but at least I could keep an eye on them, & the snails tend to stay out of there.

Borlotti beans

The snails definitely found the beans, but I'm surprised the damage wasn't more extensive.

Bit of a snail mauling in the middle there...

The snails first attacked while the pods were tender, so we harvested some beans then & Hubby steamed them whole, runner bean style.

At this end of the Summer the remainder have really taken on that trademark red colour, so hopefully we'll get beans too.

Onions

Yeah, not a great result here. In a variety of locations they've been universally terrible. These survivors are barely larger than the sets they started out as (20p off the right edge there for scale). But they've done better than their brethren, who are M.I.A....

Call them shallots?

The veg experiment has been interesting, but I think next year I'll look to expand hardy herb selection instead.

7. Seedlings compost is only for seedlings

The Greenhouse Guttering experiment has worked much better in Spring & Summer than it did over Winter. We had lots of salad leaves and tender herbs and things germinated very well in there... but they didn't last.

Hmm... row 2 looking a little dry there...

I finally twigged with the little gem lettuce: they were going well but after a little while they started to fade - literally. The colour started to leech from the leaves. Hubby was baffled. After a few days something pinged in my head: food. So he gave them some liquid feed & they perked right up again.

And then I remembered hearing that seed compost isn't like normal compost. It's finer plus it doesn't have as much nutritional content. So potting on isn't only about giving the roots more legroom, it's also about getting more scran into the soil.

8. Post it!

Not all the year's lessons are from out there. Some are from in here, in blogland.

Some posts have had a long gestation. I've still got Japan posts from Christmas sat in drafts. I have a phone memory card stacked with photos waiting to be processed. I have emails marked as unread so I don't forget to write about them.

All these posts sit in the back of my mind like gravel, grating away. They force "should" statements into my subconscious.

If I have a year 2 resolution, it'll be Post it!

It doesn't have to be perfect, but it needs to be out, or let go...

9. A diary, for me

When I started the blog, part of my motivation was to show the world that gardening is far more hit & miss than the experts would have us believe. But the way it's panned out, this blog is more like my gardening diary. It definitely feels like it's of more use to me than you. Does that sound rude?

Half way through the year I realised that to be useful to others, I'd have to be posting like clockwork & running around social medialand driving traffic to the site. Advertising to only my Facebook mates doesn't really get the message out there.

But frankly, what a chew on. It's got "time swamp" plastered all over it, & I already spend much longer writing about gardening than gardening.

Having said all that though...

10. Folk are actually interested

I've had some really nice comments about things I've written over the last year, & that's been unexpected. I'm frankly astonished that anyone takes the time to read these witterings.

& I love the stories it brings out of you. You tell me what you're up to & we all get to learn from each other. & that's great.

So thank you for taking the time. I'm really touched.

Treasure! Free onion sets!

It's been a gloriously sunny week. & despite last night's rain sounding decidedly lumpy, most folk round here are more than ready to declare Spring officially sprung. The daffs are blooming - that's good enough for me.

& if the prospect of Spring wasn't exciting enough, I scored some free onion sets from a friend at work. Result!

Don't they look jewel-like?

They're a mix of white, gold, long red & round red. No idea what specific varieties - the colour/shape descriptions are good enough for me.

I'm very excited about having a go with these. I blagged some free sets last year too but blew that opportunity by never quite getting around to planting them out. I shall endeavour not to waste this gift in the same frivolous manner.

& reading that paragraph back, I see that I need to simmer down - some alarm bells are clanging...

Shoulda woulda coulda

In the past I've given myself a real hard time for things I feel I should do. I had a really rough time a few years ago, so got some counselling. One of the best bits of advice my counsellor gave me was:

"Beware 'should' statements."

You know, those niggles of I should do this, I ought to do that. Those guilty little thoughts that have us skulking off to do something begrudgingly... but for folk like me they can open the door to the downward slide, & frankly who needs that? I'd much rather do stuff with spring in my step & a song in my heart; do things cos I want to do them, not just cos I should.

My counsellor suggested examining the shoulds when they popped into mind because, she said, they frequently come from things folk have said in the past. Not always nice things. Rarely for the recipient's benefit. Often for the other person's own ends. Not all of those shoulds were meant maliciously, far from it, but they've become poisonous over the years. So shed that baggage - Spring is the perfect time.

So, there are no promises that I will plant these onions. & no getting depressed if this lot rot in the bag just like last year. I may plant these onions, I may not. & if I don't, it's probably cos I was off doing something that was more important to my mental health at the time, like yomping up hills with hubby, or getting in some quality, guilt free, relaxing, sofa-time....
mmm... sofa....

Loving the jolly dwarf narcissus