New Camellias

Ooh goodie. I am off to dig out a row of nine mature Camellias that my friend doesn't want. They've been oddly and savagely pruned back, but are sprouting leaves all over the place. A compulsive rescuer, me...

 With Pebbles the dog.
Rescued Camellias


What a mission! Phew! I've done it. But what a random bunch - like a group of children. Most - really easy, no problems, up and out without any fuss. A couple of more difficult ones, but I coaxed them into seeing sense. And then one rotten apple, totally refusing to budge - he wasn't going anywhere, thanks very much. Took me over half an hour, the hugest hole dug around him. Oh boy - I wished I'd brought the axe! Then Winnie the dog and I crammed ourselves into my wee mobile shrubbery-car and drove home breathing in wafts of close, warm vegetation.

And where are they all going? Oops. Sensible thought : I already have a motley collection of Camellias (see the pictures below) in the Wattle Woods. So why don't these newbies join the others? They can edge the path up to the glasshouse. Thus their 'hedginess' can be utilised.

This isn't lazy thinking. It's thoughtful thinking, if that makes sense. For now the Camellias are in large pots, and it's started to rain gently. Plant them in the garden tomorrow, perhaps.

Thursday 22nd March

No, not this morning - it's wet and nicely autumnal. I've been out for a swim and sushi. Nice. Now perhaps some web-gardening? Nothing too strenuous, after all that digging and wrenching.

 In the front of the Wattle Woods.
Coprosma and Teapot

Sunday 25th March

Well, after more days of rain (and other things) I'm ready to plant, But there are a few questions first. Shift the path? Dig out the self sown red dahlias? What about the big scruffy Anemanthele grasses? Definitely barrow in loads of horse manure. How big will the hedging Camellias grow? Try and think ahead.

Two Hours later...

Grr. One of those mornings. Before I could do this I had to do that, and before I could do that I had to shovel all the wet bonfire ash into the wheelbarrow and dump it way over there. In the process I uncovered three hand diggers and two hand forks, all very obviously deceased. It was a very large pile of ash, created over several weeks, but that's a terrible number!

Dog Company...

Pebbles kept me company. When we passed her favourite place by the water race I threw her stick. This inevitably swirled out of reach downstream. Oh no - the stick is lot! So we dumped the load and looked for another stick. Over and over.

 Always following me around.
Pebbles in the Ferns

I'm inside for a coffee while I think deeply. I've removed one old fashioned rose, John Clare, and an Iceberg from the Wattle Woods, planting my new Hydrangea in their place. Now I get the Camellias sorted. And no loose ends - in other words, no discarded dahlias left in the middle of a path...

Much, Much Later...

Aha! An eight hour gardening day, magnificent! I've done it - the path is re-routed, green Mondo grass clumps replanted along its edge, a brown Phormium and a variegated Coprosma relocated. And nine Camellias planted properly, with nine bags of rotted horse manure spread around them. One each - so thoughtful!

Camellias Planted

Much mess was carted over to the bonfire, and I even added a trailer load from the Hump, collected late in the day. I burnt the lot, then wiggled myself into a sitting position on Middle Bridge and dangled my poor 'over-plodded' feet in the cold water race. Loooovey! Aaaah! Sort of dozed off for five minutes, rejoined the aware world with tingling feet, stiffened body, well and truly stuck. Oops. Couldn't work out how to get myself up. Even thought of called out to Non-Gardening Partner. No! Far too embarrassing. So silly, sometimes, not having knees and hips that want to bend properly.

 An old photograph featuring Fluff-Fluff, my dearly departed ginger gardening cat.
Middle Bridge - The Bridge I Got Stuck On!

Imagined headlines : Elderly gardener overdoes it - gets stuck on garden bridge.