All change - again!

                                 



Why is it, that when you just seem to be getting something right in the garden, you have to start again?

Our inherited bilberry bushes, though interesting in themselves, were not giving us the colour  we need in one of the most used parts of the garden.  We must walk down the garden path several times a day and this sunny border needed some serious injection of colour, height and texture. 

Last year we thought we had finally managed to create something attractive in a relatively difficult part of the garden. We weeded the area next to the bilberries and introduced fox gloves, tall daisies, pulmonaria, aquilega and hardy geraniums - all taken from other parts of the garden.  These gave us something to enjoy as we swished past every day and strangely, the small, delicate pink flowers of the bilberries were much more noticeable than they used to be.

However, the heavy rainfall last winter washed away the bank next to the path and the bilberry roots were laid bare.  It was a muddy mess. Something had to be done and Doc, my husband was the man to do it.  For a week he put in some serious hard work, digging out the old plants and building a retaining wall made from stacked sleepers.  I am a liability in the garden nowadays, so all I could do was offer encouragement, pint glasses of elderflower cordial and a whole packet of chocolate digestive biscuits.  (I tested one or two myself just in case they were not up to the required standard for Digger Doc.)



Digging out the mature, woody bilberries was only a fraction of the effort required to transform this bed.  Doc now has 6 heavy duty sacks of rocks and stones.  If you would like them, let us know!  We cannot complain about the amount of stone our garden regurgitates because it is the stone that probably stops our house sliding down the hillside.

We have decided to leave this new, improved bed fallow for the rest of this year and cover it with (unattractive) black polythene until we are sure it is 'clean' of any nasties lurking in the depths. 

The bed is in a very sunny position and will be well drained and dry.  There are so many plants we can choose from that we hardly know where to start.  However, the first task is to move the ornamental silver leaved pear tree a metre or so because it is too close to the pergola.  This will need to be done in the autumn or winter, when it is dormant.  

Doc planted the pear tree a couple of years ago and at the time I did point out  that it was in the wrong place.  However, Doc has done so much hard work on the new flower bed, I will not say "I told you so!"  It is best to let 'sleeping builders lie.' 

 

 

Amelanchier Magic

An Amelanchier tree is one of those must-haves for any garden and is one of the most popular choices for any type of garden.  It does not grow too big and it has masses of star-shaped white or pink-fading-to-white flowers in spring, followed by colourful leaves and ornamental and edible fruits.  

There are around 10 species of Amelanchier (also known as the Juneberry) and coming originally from North America, Europe and Asia, they are fully hardy. The flowers have 5 petals and appear on the bare branches just before the first leaves.  The leaves slowly emerge and unfurl into an attractive bronze colour which changes to green in summer, then richly coloured red or orange in the autumn.  The tree is deciduous but because it is so well behaved, it shows off a neat structure which adds interest throughout the winter months.
We were lucky enough to be given an Amelanchier as a gift when we moved here and for a few years it was potted on in big tubs but now it happily resides in a bed alongside the lawn.  It is doing well and will do even better when Doc gets round to hard pruning the overgrown azalea shrubs either side of it. 

The best-known species of Amelanchier in this country are the Canadensis and Lamarckii (AGM).  Unfortunately we do not know the name or ours because there was no label to accompany it.  Some species grow as large shrubs.  Since ours is 3 metres tall and looks like a tree, it has obviously decided it is a tree!  Our acidic soil definitely brings out the strong autumn colour although I am told that an Amelanchier will tolerate a neutral soil or even a little lime.  They do well in full sun but ours has some shade from the large shrubs surrounding it and appears content.  Our specimen faces west but it would probably do well in a more a northerly aspect if necessary. 

Powdery mildew can sometimes pose a challenge and we deal with it by removing and burning all the fallen leaves in the autumn.  Once the shrubs around it are cut back, there will be an increase in air circulation which will also help to control the attacks.   If it gets too bad - and only as a last resort - we may have to spray the tree, but only on a calm day to minimise the disruption to the rest of the garden. 

We have always loved our Amelanchier because it more or less gets on with the job of growing and giving us a lovely show of colour and structural interest.  However, today we realised that we are fortunate to have not one, but two Amelanchiers!

Most gardens have areas that are strictly utilitarian because much as we would like compost bins, piles of ‘useful bricks’ and bags of leaf mould to look attractive, they are not.  We chose the area to one side of our shed which is shady thanks to our neighbours’ adoration of very large species conifers and our love of our own beech tree.  Doc has landscaped the ground so we have a gravelled area for seating under the shade of the beech tree in summer and it is also the perfect place for pots of hostas.  (Putting hostas in open ground in our garden is inviting every slug from miles around to drop round for lunch.)

Doc finished the area off with some trellis which now boasts a lovely evergreen honeysuckle. The trellis finishes with a full stop provided by what was hitherto an un-named sickly looking tree with hardly any branches or leaves.  It must have been partially felled decades ago.  The remains of the main trunk are sited at an awkward angle probably because it used to strain towards the limited light.  At the time the renovations were going on, Doc neither had the energy or motivation to dig out the stump so I took on the job of making it look presentable and behave well enough so I could plant something of interest in front of it.  For several years I cut back the whippy stems and to be honest I hacked more than I pruned in the hope the tree would give up altogether.  That was until last year when the problems with my painful foot curtailed my gardening activities.

The ‘thing’ as we used to describe it, did not give up.  In fact, being felled followed by my harsh treatment does not seem to have done it any harm at all.  Perhaps it felt relieved when I became incapacitated!  This year, for the first time in 10 years, it has strong new growth and a lovely show of those familiar and welcome star-shaped white flowers with pale bronze leaves which are just about to unfurl.   It will never be a tree again, but it has decided that being a shrub is just fine despite the difficult aspect.   Isn’t nature amazing?

 

 

 

The colour is yellow

I was pottering around the greenhouse this afternoon and there is nothing better to keep me company than a mug of tea and the radio tuned to Radio 4’s Gardeners’ Question Time. It is surprising what interesting hints and wrinkles you can pick up and many of the questions make you re-think the way you do things in the garden. 

However, today, a question about what to plant underneath a forsythia hedge really pricked my ears, so much so I had to stop pricking out my tomato seedlings and scowl at the radio.  I love Chris Beardshaw (more so since he joined BBC Scotland’s Beechgrove Garden programme!) but his distaste of this adorable shrub was very surprising. He suggested to the lady who asked the question, that should get rid of the hedge and plant something more interesting......!

I accept than many gardeners forget to prune forsythia immediately after flowering, which results in the flowers only growing on the top branches.  And it is a boring shrub the rest of the year but as for being a ‘suburban eyesore’, I just don’t agree.  Chris thinks they are too brash and feels that spring is about subtlety, as shown by bulbs scattered underneath trees.  Perhaps Chris needs to see our daffodils in the orchard.  There is no subtlety about Springfield bulbs in spring!  This season they are the best they have ever been, probably due to Doc feeding them last autumn and the heavy rainfall all winter.

My view is that although we gardeners try to include plants that add winter colour and texture, few of us venture into the garden in winter to admire them.  I look forward to the first shots of yellow to lift me out of the winter gloom and tempt me outside.  It is cheerful and I like to feel cheerful.  When the daffodil blooms are spent and the forsythia has been pruned, the yellow stars step back from the scene and other flowers take their turn centre stage.  The transient nature of gardening is part of the appeal for me.  Every plant has a season, it comes and then it goes.  The trick is to keep the show going all year.

As for our forsythia, it is looking just as gorgeous and yes, it is shockingly yellow.  When it gets bigger, we may need sunglasses to enjoy it.  However, I have chosen not to include a photo of it here, just in case You Know Who drops by.  

Cultural pursuits

When we came to Springfield 10 years ago, Doc and I were keen to introduce statuary to create interest, colour and a focal point in the general landscape of the garden.  So far we have acquired a small, mass-produced ceramic rabbit and a slightly creepy looking ‘rock drummer’ gnome. The former is tucked between the trellis and a clump of chives in Mr Macgregor’s garden and the latter (which, weirdly, was one of Doc’s 50th birthday presents) is behind a water butt. If a small child visits us, we usually give ‘Rocker’ a holiday and play 'Hunt the Gnome'.  He usually finishes up in a tree or under a bush.

Nowadays I sit down more than I stand up in the garden, so some visual interest whilst I am perched on a bench would enhance the view.  I also have time to surf the internet for ideas of what we could buy and as I do so, I realise why we have not invested in serious garden ornamentation before.  Choosing pots to group here and there is one thing, but choosing art is something completely different.

Talking to friends, I am not the only one who is lacking in confidence when it comes to choosing ornamentation for the garden.  One friend goes further and says that now we now have a granddaughter, we need ‘fairy doors’, additional cute animals to keep our rabbit company, and some butterflies on wires rather than anything Henry Moore might approve of.

I am sure Little E would love fairy doors but I find them a little twee for us and Doc does not want anything that is made of plastic.  We need some quality pieces which look elegant.  We would like to make a statement but remain understated, if that is possible.

Last summer, a good friend of ours celebrated a notable birthday by having lunch at Raymond Blanc’s restaurant, Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons, in Oxfordshire.  It was lovely to share such a special day with J and strolling around garden on a spring day was sublime.  (The food was brilliant too!).  There were plants and flowers, a lake and an abundant kitchen garden but the stand-out memory for all of us was the stunning sculpture.  Not only does it ooze quality but it sits in the landscape like it belongs there. Each piece is exactly positioned and in perfect harmony to its surroundings. There is something around every corner, but there is nothing which is over-done or crowded and everything is in proportion to the size and perspective of the garden.  

I doubt we have a big enough wallet for any of the sculpture we saw at Le Manoir but even if we did, I am struggling to find pieces which define our own personal style.  We do know we would like strong, unfussy forms and pieces which suit the natural, ‘countryside’ feel of the garden and neither of us are drawn to anthing contemporary.  But translating that into a specific purchase is proving to be a challenge.

I would quite like some life-size cast iron pigs in the orchard because I like that kind of whimsical humour.  However, the ones I have seen are too expensive.  Number One Daughter is artistic and creative and she could undoubtedly make something magnificent from a pile of junk from a skip but I am not sure Doc and I are open-minded enough to up-cycle old metal pipes and tin cans. 

Still, we have made a start and actually we are fond of our little rabbit.  As for the gnome, he is growing on us.  We have decided that he is ‘Kitsch’ and for the uninitiated ‘Kitsch’ means ‘art, or an object considered to be in poor taste because of excessive garishness or sentimentality, but sometimes appreciated in an ironic or knowing way.’  We are convinced his chipped hat and leery grin makes all the difference.

Lightly does it

The first sunny day inspires many gardeners to rush outside and spend several hours weeding, pruning and digging. However, after a winter of perusing the seed catalogues, this is asking for trouble.  More gardening injuries occur in spring than at any other time.  Backs, knees, hips – gardeners can suddenly discover parts of our bodies they lost touch with months ago.  A friend emailed me to say she had weeded her plot for 3 hours and was aching really badly.....

The initial green work out should start with some gentle stretching before heading off to the potting shed to warm up muscles and joints and reduce the risk of strain. If you delve into the borders, a kneeling mat is an essential piece of kit but remember to plant your knees firmly in the middle of it rather than bending and stretching further than you are used to.  As for digging, Doc and I try to avoid it.  There is much to be said for no-dig methods of cultivation and there is no satisfaction to be had from a neatly double-dug garden if you spend the rest of the week in bed!

Lifting is always risky, whether it is a small plant or a heavy bag of rubbish and given how many gardeners are pulling on their wellies and lugging bags of compost around at this time of year, it’s a wonder the A & E departments are not full.  We should remember to bend our knees and keep the back straight, both when picking up and putting down.  How many of us face the direction in which the load is to be carried to order to avoid twisting our spines? 

We don’t have a hover mower but a neighbour tells me they are notorious for causing back problems. This is because the user tends to swing it from side to side instead of pushing it in front, facing the direction they are cutting the grass. 

Since I now have limited capabilities in the garden I don’t have to worry too much about over-doing it on the plot because I know my limitations.  However, I have always been a firm believer in changing tasks regularly.  This means I do tasks that use different parts of my body rather than doing lots of repetitive movement.  But the best thing is not to try and do everything at once. An hour a day is enough initially and you can always work up to more as the days get longer.

Currently my average time spent in the garden at any one time is around half an hour and it is surprising how much can be done in such a short time.  I focus on two or three small tasks which I plan in advance and regrettably I have to accept I cannot do the more energetic jobs. 

Today I cut back some sedum 'Autumn Joy'. The flowers bring a rich, deep pink to the flower border in the autumn and then the flower heads go to seed, turn brown and provide texture and form throughout the winter months.  They also protect the fresh, young green shoots from frost.  Eventually though, the attractive bronze turns to grey and withered so I have cut the back the clump to just above the new growth. 

Whilst I was snipping off the spent stems of the sedum I sniffed with the sweet, heady scent of the creamy-white flowers of our Sarcococca (sweet box). It is a compact, evergreen shrub which flowers in winter, followed by followed by red, purple or black berries which persist into the following winter

The backdrop to this duo is a combination of yellow and red cornus (dogwood).  The stems catch the low winter sunlight and brighten up the garden.  The harder you cut this back in the spring, the richer is the display of coloured stems in the winter and the time to do this is around now.  However, it still looks so delightful that I could not bring myself to take the loppers to it.  I will leave it a week or too longer and we can enjoy the colour until the spring garden explodes into life.

These plants – the sedum, the sweet box and the dogwood – are firm favourites of mine.  They are reliable, must-haves for the autumn and winter garden.  By the time I had tidied them up today and scooped up a pile of soggy leaves, I was tired but refreshed from being outside, even if it was only for a short while.  I only wish I had taken my camera with me!

My next tasks are to prune the wisteria and cut back the tall Verbena 'bonariensis' – but that will have to wait for another day.   

Effort

“.....all it takes is a few packets of seed and before long you will have your own, fresh home grown produce......”  As If!   Unless you are the gambling type, gardening requires some basic research before you start followed by a lot of practice and good husbandry.  This is generally known as effort and without it, gardening seldom delivers satisfaction. 

Food does not magically appear from a packet of bean seeds. If I dared to shove a few bean seeds directly into the soil instead of starting them off in pots, the slugs and mice would eat them for breakfast and even if a few plants made it above the soil, they would still need seriously engineered support from beans canes and twine to withstand strong wind and the weight of the harvest.  Of course, if the soil is not enriched with organic matter in the first place, there won’t be any beans at all! 

Given my present disability and level of pain, the effort required to do even a fraction of what I used to do in the garden, is multiplied.  I spent years telling Doc I was Superwoman but sadly this was only propaganda and I am definitely in the ‘I can only do what I can’ group of gardeners.  As such, and to my sadness, food production at Springfield will be reduced this coming season.  Traditionally in our garden, the 80/20 rule applies:  80% of the work is generated from 20% of the plot – namely, the fruit and vegetable plot.  Doc is keen to take over some of what I used to do, including the watering and husbandry but he has a lot of other garden maintenance to do.  He is not Superman either.

After much deliberating over the Modified Plan, we have decided that my role will be starting some seeds off and nurturing them into plants.  In a week or two it will be time for me to get going.  Today, Doc brought up some sieved multi-purpose compost in a trug and that will sit in the utility room to warm up.  There is also a large bag of assorted pots, root trainers and trays, plus a couple of unheated propagators and a packet of plant labels.

Tomatoes and Chilli plants will be the first off the starting blocks because they need a long season if they are to bear fruits which ripen.  I have reduced the varieties of tomatoes to a minimum to save work and I shall grow some large tubs of cherry sized Tumbling Tom (yellow and red) and Garden Pearl, together with some Romano Nano which is a meatier plum variety for cooking.  Once I get these up and about and plantlet sized, they will be grown on in the greenhouse.  When the weather turns warm and summery (wishful thinking I know) the tubs can be brought up to the terrace near the house where I can easily tend them.  The terrace is south facing and they should do well there, if not, Doc will take them back to the greenhouse.

After sowing the tomato seeds, it will be time for the Mangetout, sowed in root trainers because they like a long root run. I could start them off in the greenhouse but I find they do better in the kitchen, near the Aga and we usually achieve an earlier crop.  (I have never succeeded with autumn sowings of any of the pea family!)

A few months ago I did not think I could do any gardening at all.  But now I think I can.  My contribution will be very small but hopefully it will be significant and maybe I can gain the same kind of satisfaction all gardeners all share.  Making the effort to grow something, anything, nurtures our souls and I need all the nurturing I can get.