Little by little...

Little things add up to a lot, in the garden. Some days I do lots of little tasks. Insignificant by themselves, but wow! I reckon I achieved lots. Maybe not measured in hours spent, but in details taken care of. And in the distance my old green wheelbarrow covers (with me trudging behind).

 Used rather a lot these days!

So yesterday I planted an Escallonia, a Phormium, and a very sad Exochorda which I'd liberated from its pot. They all went in my newly cleared Shrubbery Garden. Then I spread eight bags of wormy rotted horse manure all around. My beady-eyed blackbird friend turned up almost immediately. Tried to cover the manure with dirt, giving the worms time to dive for cover.

 Covered in gum leaves.
Pots of Rescued Roses


Then I dug out the Brunnera, variety Jack Frost, which arrived some years ago with huge spring foliage promises. He has diminished in size and strength ever since, and now four pathetic little pieces of him are in a pot of mix. As are the three pink Grootendoorst and two Blush Noisette roses I dug out a couple of days ago.

The Allotment Garden has really struggled this spring and summer, only my random buckets of water and my little watering hose. I've dug out five more sad roses, trimmed them, and popped them into pots of mix. They are labelled A1 to A5, hee hee. Names are Freisia, Rhapsody in Blue, Pretty Jessica, I think a Blackberry Nip, and one unknown white. But since none flowered this summer (poor things), I haven't a clue which is which. They might not even still be alive.

 Growing by the water race.
A Happy Blackberry Nip

Funny how a little garden area is often a big problem. That's the trouble when one works against nature - and plants too many roses in too many inappropriate locations.

More little positives...

More little positives. Last weekend Non-Gardening Partner fixed the Laundry Seat AND the rustic benches in the Shrubbery courtyard while I went off to sing in a Mozart Mass. I did leave him with instructions, never dreaming that he'd complete his tasks. Proof! Some blokes do like to be organised, right?

The Laundry Seat