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.

Hedge scalping 2: Send for reinforcements!

Back in September, I wrote about tackling the annual hedge trimathon. In part 1, I was steeling myself for the job ahead. Now in part 2, I'll take you though this year's change of strategy.

Every year I gripe about trimming the hedge cos it's such a chew on. But this year I decided it was time to garden smarter: I wheeled out the big guns.

Toys!

There are a lot of hedge trimmers on the market, but I have some key needs that quickly narrow the field:

1. Must be electric

Yeah, I've read it all about you get more oomph from petrol & electric trimmers are wimps. But we already have a petrol power tool in our arsenal, a strimmer, & I just can't start the fucker. All that priming, choke tickling, chord ripping nonsense, in this day & age?! Motorbikes have had starter motors for over 50 years ffs. No excuse for it. Get your act together, 2 stroke engineers!!!!

& relax...

moving on...

2. Must chop large sticks

The laurel is such a beast that strong green new growth can already be over 10mm diameter by mid summer. What a monster.

So I needed something with big sharp teeth AND the power to use them.

Final decision hung on power delivery...

3. Batteries v cable?

I was very tempted by batteries - Monty Don has extolled the virtues of the rechargeable batteries route, & I can see that having no trailing cable is handy when your garden covers half of Hampshire.

But on the flipside, I had read a number of reviews saying that whilst the batteries do fine in year 1, performance seriously drops of in years 2 & 3. New batteries every year or so? Doesn't sound very eco to me.

So, as our garden is small enough for every extremity to be in easy reach of a cable, cable it is. I'm pretty sure I can manage not to chop through it or trip over it. Pretty sure...

And the winner is...

Ladies & Gentleman, may I present to you, the Bosch AHS 7000 Pro-T.

Nope, no idea what AHS nor T stand for. Probably nowt...

Awww yeah. Check out that bad boy :)

5 stars on Amazon, plus loads of reviews confirming it's ability to mangle even the toughest customers. Some concerns about weight, but some others saying it's not really a bother...

A swift visit to B&Q & it's mine, all MINE!

Just imagine... I could be this happy when trimming the hedge...

Is that a light breeze or did the hedge just tremble? Mwhahahaha!

5 small ones in, but a big 1 out

It wasn't meant to be like this. Yesterday was meant to be a small potter with two key tasks:

1. Plant three free autumn-fruiting raspberry plants.
2. Plant a lovely white anemone next to a relocated shuttlecock fern.

Might even have time to plant some bulbs. A manageable agenda, relaxing even, & leaving plenty of time/energy for any little detour jobs that will inevitably catch my eye when I step outside...

More rasps, more of the time!

Free rasps taste better...

Yes, I know we've already got loads of raspberries, but a friend had three plants going spare. These will slot nicely into some gaps we have, plus they'll extend our raspberry season as these little feelas fruit in Autumn.

Only recently did I finally get my head around the concept of 'extending the season'. Loads of shows & articles talk about it, but I never really grasped the point of early & late version of the same thing. But after years of  mindlessly buying the same fruit & veg all year round, the food miles debate has finally helped this particular penny to drop for me. & if you too are still struggling to grasp what I'm blathering on about, here's my working out:

• Our raspberries fruit for about 3 weeks, around Wimbledon time. 3 weeks only. In a whole year.
• So, to have fresh raspberries at any other time of the year, I would have to buy them in.
• But when fresh rasps are out of season across the UK, they have to be shipped from overseas.
• Shipping British native fruit from the other side of the world just so I can have fresh rasps in December is a bit daft, & pretty eco-irresponsible.
• But... but... if I plant different varieties of rasps, varieties that fruit earlier or later than the ones I already have, then I can have home grown rasps all summer & into Autumn.
• & if I really must have rasps in December, I should stick any Summer surplus in the freezer.

Yay! Saving the planet has never been so tasty!

One rasp in, two to go...

So that's new rasps in old gaps, all watered in & labelled.

While I was in raspberry district, I tied in any additional growth on this Summer's canes. The stricter, Monty Don style regime plus the Alnwick garden head-bend I wrote about last time seems to be going ok: we've had some blustery days recently & everything is still in good nick. Plus that whole bed is still as tidy as when I did all that, so the compost mulch seems to be doing a good job of keeping the weeds down. Hooray!

Next...

Welcome to fern corner

The bottom right of the garden can get a bit gloomy under the long, long shadow cast by the huge hedge. So I've started filling it with ferns.

Fern corner - before

A couple of years ago, I bought a small pack of 4 varieties & planted them around the base of the forsythia. I had no idea exactly what they were, but there's a ferns article in this Saturday's Guardian Magazine, so at least I now know that the big fella at the back is a Japanese holly fern (& nice also to see that Hart's tongues are native - I'll hunt one of those out). Lord alone knows what the other 2 are though. & 1 poor soul has sunk without a trace, no doubt due to lack of sun - they were all the same size in the packet; how was I supposed to know how big they'd get? The packaging didn't even bother to give their names, let alone mention how lanky they'd be. Ah well, on the bright side, 3 survivors out of 4 is pretty good going for me.

Joining these hardy souls this weekend is a little shuttlecock fern. We have a huge one in the greenhouse, & a couple of years ago this spore-off-the-old-fern germinated & set up home at the foot of the compost bins. So last year I potted it up & dumped it in fern corner, to be "properly positioned later"... finally, it'll get it's toes in the soil.

A light in a dark place

Back when I planted the 1st 4 ferns, I also popped in some primroses & some white tulips, for some "splashes of seasonal colour" as the journos say. The blooms were part of a long term plan to try some of the design techniques I'd read about, which claim to make a short garden seem longer with only the power of strategic planting:

Strong colours & large things close by, pale colours & small things down the far end.

So about a month ago I bought a lovely anemone, to throw some more whites amongst the greens. & again I dumped the pot in the border & left it to be blown over several times under the guise of "checking it's in the right position"... I never learn...

But before those 2 finally get their roots in the ground, a few things have to come out - as you can see from the picture above, fern corner is a tad, erm, "wildlife". All the rampant herb robert, brambles and leggy buttercup thingies have to go.

Rotten discovery

Clearing the undergrowth, I find this sorry state:

Mouldy forsythia :(

Nope, that's not snow. That's mould. The forsythia has been here longer than us, & has quite a lot of dead wood at the back. I try to keep it tidy, but only in the last few years did I learn about the "flowers on last year's wood" business, so I've spent many years pruning it at the wrong time. But to be honest, I don't think this is a dodgy pruning problem. I suspect it's a combo of the very wet year we've had, plus the plant's age, plus its position - it's too close to the wall; smushed up against it, in fact.

This looks terminal. Oh crap, I think it'll have to come out. Which means it'll have to come out before I put the ferns in, which means it'll have to come out today... pants.

The Procrastination Distraction

Sounds like a Big Bang Theory episode, but it's the job I do while I avoid ripping out the mouldy forsythia. It wasn't on the list, but I need some thinking time.

Years ago I did my 1st bit of paving, & put a fan of clay bricks under one of the benches. I really like them, they make me smile every time I see them, but bare soil substrate with soil mortar means, surprise surprise, it's forever covered in weeds. No worries: 10 minutes scraping with the sharp edge of the hand trowel soon cleans them up lovely.

Freshly scraped under-seat bricks

I'll re-lay them. At some point. Later. Not today.

Out with the old...

Mind cleared, decision made: the forsythia's coming out. To be honest, it's not all bad news as one of the brambles is embedded in the bugger, so I can get rid of that at the same time. So, out come all the surrounding weeds. Out too comes the Japanese holly fern, otherwise I'd just trample it when trying to get the shrub stump up.

Lifting the fern is weird though, cos underneath it is a collection of shredded plastic. I'm baffled - I definitely did not plant that under there. & then I twig: must've been a mouse nest. I know we have rodents in the garden, & I'll write more about that another time. But it also explains why the bulbs I'm unearthing looked half chewed...

Fern shifted, it was time to tackle the stump. For this, I needed reinforcements...

Time to call in the professionals

I chop off all the long branches with the loppers, as far back to the stump as the loppers' jaws can manage. I then dig out the soil from around the base, trying to determine where the crown of the plant stops & the roots start. I find a root & it's big -  maybe 20mm diameter. The loppers can handle this so I take out a section. I find another root: it's massive. At least twice the size of the 1st, maybe more. I try the hand axe on this & Christ it's hard work - I had no idea! I can tell the axe is really sharp cos it's shaving the fern on my right if my swing is a little too wild. But I'm getting really tired really quickly & if I'm not careful I'll end up with the axe in my leg. I need another plan.

The saw is great. I've used it before on the demon laurel hedge from hell. It's quite hard work, but I find it's nowhere near as bad as the axe. But the saw is long, & the surrounding soil level means I'll have to cut though the thickest bit of the stump.

After what feels like ages sawing, but is probably only 5 mins (why do I hold my breath when I do this sort of thing?), I'm reassessing my options again. Time to try brute force. It's a risky strategy - only this week a friend did her back badly when trying to yank out a bramble. But I'm really tired now so my judgement is suffering.

I put my foot on one of the thick stumps at the back, hang on to the wall for stability, & give it a push with my leg. To my amazement, it moves! It moves loads! This job is much further on than I thought. Fantastic! A few more shoves, & it's up:

Uprooted

...in with the new

Lovely new anemone for fern corner

After the ugliness of the mouldy root, the anemone is just beautiful. Even though I've neglected it since I bought it, it had continued to flower away in the gloomy corner. This all bodes well, cos let's face it it'll be just as neglected for the rest of it's life. Autumn glamour with no effort - my kind of plant.

So I've got the flowers & the ferns. This time I'm positioning them properly - place them, & then plant them same day. Finally.

Positioning in pots before planting

All done

Fern corner - all done

So in the pic above:

• Anemone: back left.
• Japanese holly fern: back right, over the top of where the forsythia was... hopefully that mould wasn't soil-borne...
• Shuttlecock fern: middle left.
• Front left & right: the other unidentified ferns from the variety pack.

But this wasn't the end. Oh no. Cos all the stuff I've ripped out is filling the wheelbarrow & spilling over into a huge pile in the middle of the lawn. Compostable bits go into the compost, woody bits onto the wood pile, leaving 4 bags of green waste for the bin guys.

& in the 30 mins it took to tidy up, I got extra rewards for all my endeavour:

Revelation

All this waste could be produce. The garden produces so much green stuff every year & I'll I do is worry about harbouring endemic weeds & so rip most of it up to chuck it away. But with a bit more effort, all this greenery could be tasty & in my belly.

Wonder

Whilst filling the garden waste sacks, I heard honking geese. I looked up & against the deepening blue of the dusk sky I saw a huge V of birds heading South. Then 5 minutes later, a second group came up the street, no more than 20 metres off the ground. Amazing. Finally, as I put away the tools & drew the door to, I saw the misty full Moon rise. Just beautiful.