Farewell

Funeral Flowers?

Doc chopped down our beautiful column ornamental cherry tree this morning.  He said that wielding the axe felt even more savage because the tree was just coming into flower.  He came in from the garden, carrying an armful of branches bursting with pink blooms.  We put the branches in a vase and now the hall is filled with a delicate fragrance.  

There is a lesson to be learned from this sadness.  If you plant a tree you are investing in the future and planting something that will take a long time to mature.  All the more reason to think carefully what you plant and where you plant it.  Think how big it will grow, what the spread will be and how it fits into the landscape of the garden.  It is not a decision to be taken lightly. 

Our cherry tree was simply outgrowing its space and planted so close to the boundary and high hedge beyond, it was straining to get to the light and bending instead of growing upright.  It did not look right at all. It had to go.

We shall of course plant another tree, but somewhere else.  There are so many moderately sized ornamental trees.  We have a fruiting espalier cherry tree in the vegetable garden but I would like to replace the ornamental cherry tree.  We will probably never see a new specimen reach its maturity, but that is a good gardener's lot.  We will leave something good behind.

I spotted some fritillaries underneath the new damson tree in the orchard, nestling alongside some grape hyacinths.  They helped lift our spirits.  I am glad today has something positive in it.

The Trug gets an airing

The hungry gap of late winter/early spring is over.  Doc lifted down the Trugs from the top of the cupboards in the utility room and we are making the most of the first harvests of the season.

We have had brilliant parsley which has brightened up our cooking over the last month or so.  It over-wintered successfully both in the greenhouse and in a raised bed outside.  However, it is now well and truly upstaged by the asparagus, which is poking through the soil triumphantly.  

Last year, the asparagus crop was disappointing and plagued with asparagus beetle.  However, with due diligence (repeatedly squashing the little critters) and a judicious spreading of manure as soon as the spears had finished cropping, we have seen greater success this season.   We have enjoyed two meals so far (poached eggs, hollandaise sauce and asparagus) and there are loads more spears to come.  The price of such a delicacy is smelly wee (the side effect of eating asparagus!) but who cares? 

The second star of the trug is forced rhubarb.  We only have one forcer and have now decided that we need another one so that next year we can enjoy more of these pink, luscious, sweet stems.  I have lightly poached the rhubarb with stem ginger and only a scattering of sugar.  Doc made Birds custard and we could have easily eaten two bowlfuls each.  

The rest of the rhubarb crowns are growing well and we will soon be cropping those too. But we will have to leave the forced crown to rest for the remainder of the season because forcing saps the plant’s strength.  Each year we choose a different crown to force.

In the greenhouse, I sowed plastic ‘grape’ containers with cut-and-come-again salad leaves and they are now producing fresh, tender leaves.  We now have a carton on the kitchen table with some scissors.  The snippings liven up salads and sandwiches.  We love the peppery salad mixes the best.

This is just the start of the fruit and vegetable season. With radish seedlings emerging from the soil and strawberry plants starting to flower, there is lots more to come.  Doc planted out the mangetout plants and they are already scrambling up the obelisks.  This year we remembered to put holly branches around them to deter the pesky mice and bold pheasants.

There are flowers on one or two of the tomato plants in the greenhouse.  I don’t know whether to remove them and allow the plants to grow bigger or leave them and see how early the fruits develop.  Decisions, decisions!  I shall nibble another lettuce leaf and think about it.

Gardening is such fun

We gardeners share so many delights in our gardens: beautiful flowers, delicious produce, peace and tranquility, vibrant colour and sweet scents…..However, we also share the not-so inspiring aspects of our chosen passion.  

Doc has recently spent a lot of time and energy experiencing (yet again) the hard, manual graft of so-called gardening.  He continuing the re-landscaping of several areas of the garden including hard pruning a border - though this is an understatement.  It is his second massacre event and Doc would feel more at home on a building site or in the Amazon jungle.  

The paths between the raised beds in the vegetable garden are laid with bark to prevent weed growth and in theory this is easier to manage than grass or gravel.  However, the bark is popular with birds and disappears over time. What do they do with it, I wonder? What is left eventually turns into compost and despite having a membrane underneath, it becomes home to weeds. This year Doc and I agreed that the bark would have to be topped up. 

Doc would have loved to buy a few bags of bark chips from the garden centre and get the job done easily and quickly.  However, Springfield is much more challenging. Firstly, it needs enough bark to empty a forest and secondly, the bark has to be barrowed from the driveway at the front of the house, down to the vegetable garden, which is inconveniently on a hill and feels further away with each barrow load.

Barkgate

It took Doc 3 hours with 2 pit stops at the back door for some elderflower cordial and biscuits.  What we thought was more-than-enough bark is about half of what is required to finish the job.  The paths are more like bottomless pits than walkways.  2 more expensive bags the size of the one above will have to be ordered so we are hoping it lasts 5 years.  Or better still, could it not possibly ‘see us out?’

A Drop in the Ocean of Bark

Doc was ready for a break but there was still work to do. After the bark debacle he disappeared into the long border along the fence and emerged a couple of days later, during a rain storm.  He had to climb from behind a wall of debris and then barrow it to the bonfire area.  Reluctantly, he reserved some of the larger branches which he will take the axe to to feed our log burner one of these cold winters.  (Well, we have to offset the cost of the bark, don’t we?)

When Doc has recovered he will be able to appreciate the result of his labours. He will see that the long border is actually a lot wider than we originally thought, with lots of potential.  There are some prize specimens such as the lovely variegated holly which has layered itself in a couple of spaces and these young plants will make nice presents for the family.  The rhododendrons, amanchlier, azaleas and pieris japonica are already breathing a sigh of relief and will soon sprout again, filled with renewed vigour.  In a couple of years they will provide that area of the garden with colour and interest. The juniper tree, however, adds nothing to the new picture and will have to be felled.  We will plug the gap with something more manageable and attractive.

Indiana Jones in the Garden

Damson seedling is now a tree but the Juniper behind it has to go....

More scope with the Holly haircut - don't put the saw away Doc!

In the meantime there are 2 large bags of Cotswold stone chips to be barrowed, paving to be laid, and a whole day spent burning a small forest.  Oh, and not forgetting the bark when it arrives! Doc is doing a wonderful job and I am so lucky that he is strong, willing and able.  My disability holds me back and all I can do is cheer him on from the sidelines.  I must go and put a couple of bottles of beer in the fridge for him and make sure he has double pasta rations for supper.   

The show goes on and on........

The spring flowers are spectacular this year and I love them so much I would be happy if they bloomed all season.  Or perhaps, their fleeting visits is all part of the magic?

The primroses are vibrant this year and some of the clumps are very tightly packed with flowers. I split quite a few varieties last summer and dotted them around the garden and they soon bulk up. I don’t have a favourite colour - lemon, pink or violet - they are all stunning.  I love the cottage garden look they bring to the garden.

Bonuses amongst the spring flowers include the red and mauve hyacinths.  They started life in pots in the house and a friend suggested I plant the bulbs outdoors when they had finished flowering after Christmas.  She said they would eventually revert to bluebells.  Well, we do have lots and lots of bluebells which join us later in the spring but currently the hyacinths are attracting our attention and show no signs of 'reversion'. They are growing very well and I wish I could get close enough to test if they still have a fragrance.

Tulips are a firm favourite when it comes to spring and early summer impact.  Gardeners are advised that these short-lived bulbs should be layered in pots for the best effect.  We are also told to regard them more like an annual. Tulips don’t like the wet so they will often rot if left in a border over the winter.  But take a look at these little stars!  They are breaking all the rules and thriving on it.  

These dainty red tulips underneath the large beech tree, have lived in light shade for years and years. They were here 12 years ago and show no signs of rotting off.  More importantly, it is useful to note that the area of the garden where they have set up home is congested and hardly every touched. (A lesson in neglect, I think.) The hellebores do their thing, the tulips nudge amongst them, then white and pink Solomon’s Seal take centre stage and by the middle of the autumn the beech leaves and beech nuts fall and cover over the whole area.  Everything appears to be growing happily, no one plant has its nose pushed out.  Why are some things in the garden so difficult and some things so easy?

I dare not disturb the harmony under the beech tree, apart from some clearing some of debris now and then.  Some things are left well alone!

The Lenten Rose

The hellebores in our garden were in residence when we moved here over a decade ago so we have always regarded them as a gift. They like the conditions because they come up year after year and add sophistication to the spring show.  Some people say that the foliage lets the flowers down and whilst I agree that the leaves often look unattractive, sprawling over the soil and looking blotchy, when it comes to hellebores, it’s all about the flowers. 

Hellebores are shy creatures. They dip their heads and you have to get down to their level to see the detail.  It is worth getting down on all fours to examine them closely because the markings really are exquisite. Hellebores enjoy secluded attention and nestle quite happily in dappled shade - though I am told that they will grow well in sunshine too.  Much of our garden has a woodland feel to it, so there are lots of large shrubs and trees offering plenty of leaf mould to keep our hellebores fed. 

Our hellebores get very little attention and seem to thrive on it.  Now and then we split and transplant clumps to increase their presence in different parts of the garden. They also quietly seed themselves around. If the leaves do look tatty in the spring or show signs of a virus, we snip them off and put them in the council green bin. This keeps the plants healthy and the flowers show up much better, especially when the fresh foliage starts coming through. 

We have two other un-named cultivars, a ‘stinking’ hellebore variety (with slightly smelly leaves) and a creamy coloured specimen.  But who cares if we have not been formally introduced to our hellebores?  I adore the pinky-plum colour and the flowers look rich and welcoming when paired with the yellow narcissi and purple crocuses.  

Apparently, you can treat hellebores as cut flowers but I never brought them into the house.  For me, the hellebore belongs in the garden, tucked into a corner where you least expect to see it.