Eek! My garden needs me...
Colourful Dahlias
Eek! My garden needs me in so many little ways. But I have a rather large plan concerning the new path behind the Shrubbery and its environs. Part of me (the silly part) wants to completely clear this rough piece of land down to the paddock fence.
Rough Tough Shrubs
There are large gum trees, and a shelter belt row of Leylands by the fence, so I couldn't plant anything other than rough, tough shrubs. Self-sown Pittosporums, of course, would be welcome.
Monday 15th February
Hmm... Why not? All I need is a rake, a shovel, and energy to burn (hee hee - the rubbish will be dry and full of gum tree debris, so it will go on my bonfire). It will be dusty, colourless work - there'll be no pretty annual flowers to plant or new rose bushes to plan for, but I can (and will) scatter some Honesty seeds around.
And I don't need to remind myself that this is no place for Rhododendrons. It's an old sand hill, and doesn't get any irrigation. Maybe some Renga Renga (rock lilies) would work, maybe some succulents, and certainly some Pittosporums, if I was allowed to buy any, which I'm not. Sounds like quite a challenge - but when it's finished...
Succulents By the House
Hey - my spam mail has changed shape. It seems that my virility is no longer a chemical target, and I don't need to borrow money any more - phew! Now I am being enticed to join a million cookery schools. Whatever next? Gardening spam might be a little more interesting...
The Hoses Are On
Tuesday 16th February
Aargh! I've been at work for two long mornings now. After only four hours teaching, I get home, and I am super tired... How did I get any gardening done when I was working full-time? It's a miracle there's any Moosey Garden at all. I am watching Winter Olympics replays on the TV couch, marvelling at the snow.
Sorry about there being no active gardening today - I'm just watering pieces of the garden, nothing more. I passed my pond frog, sunning herself on a warm stone - today she has chosen a light, almost limey shade of green. Do I conclude that my frog is clever and can change her colour? Or is this common frog-behaviour? She is also bigger.
Wednesday 17th February
Today I am definitely staying home. My gardening life is so gentle. What I see (or want to see) is what I get. Gardening noise is gentle - wind in the gum trees, buzzy insects and twittering birds, running water, the squeaking of my wheelbarrow wheels.. I've moved a million miles away from the high school teaching environment. I can still 'do it', but I choose the gentle life. Phew! So what should I do today - apart from some marking (aargh!) and preparation (aargh again!) for work tomorrow morning? See what happens - I've only contracted myself for three mornings' work, in total, and my gentle gardening equilibrium is horribly wobbly.
Right - a large, hot cup of tea, a piece of marmalade toast, and perhaps another peep at the Winter Olympics. And I can sense another of those 'I am so lucky' paragraphs, as I think about the new garden path I'm going to look at finishing. Even if I get occasionally hit on the head by a piece of gum tree bark - it's more of a fright than a problem.
Golden Tribute Rose
I'm very lucky I can be a gardener today. I have the grooviest global gardening friends. Some are stuck inside fuming at the snow right now! What a strange but wonderful world (a few too many syllables to sing that phrase)...
Late Afternoon, A Bit Grumpy...
There's no logic in emotion - and nor should there be! After that gooey rose-tinted introduction to the day, I've been working solidly in the garden for five hours. But I've got myself into rather a silly state of semi-grump and partial gloom. You see, when the Garden Club came for their visit I thought... I thought... I thought... that I'd done a fairly good job of garden presentation.
Phormiums in the Island Bed
Now I've found to my horror huge weeds visible in the middle of the Island Bed, and a network of paths which were totally untidy, dreadfully messy, and of which I am terribly ashamed. I should have blocked access to them. I was over-confident as a Garden Club hostess, and now I am paying the price. This will not happen again.
My Gazebo Book :- This book on building gazebos is from the local lending library. I love it!
Anyway, it's quite late and I've been chased inside by the rain, but some self-pride has been salvaged. With some purposeful flicking of the rake and filling of the wheelbarrow with rubbish, those naughty paths now look fine. It took about twenty minutes. Blast!
Lucky Non-Gardening Partner is temporarily off the hook - my friend is borrowing the 'How to Build the Perfect Gazebo' book. I notice he's tried to partially hide it underneath some cushions...