Enjoying my gardening bubble...
Am still enjoying my lockdown gardening bubble, which at this stage still only includes Non-Gardening Partner, five cats, and two dogs. Am still enjoying the timelessness of it all, but guess things could get a bit tedious if it goes on too long. Buy for now my garden is loving it!
Garden View from House
I've found myself doing a lot of detailed garden tasks that in past years have been completely ignored, or passed over as inessential. Some deeply detailed gardening has been happening. Yippee for lockdown - sorting out the health of my garden as well as the health of the country.
Fluff-Fluff the Cat
Wednesday 1st September
This morning I've been clearing right in the middle of the Island Bed (cutting off dead Phormium leaves, pruning the white Hydrangeas, trimming dead stalks off the Alstroemeria). Trying not to stomp all over the smoky blue Delphiniums, or to disrespect Fluff-Fluff the cat's resting place by the Kanzan flowering cherry tree. There's no marker - am pretty sure I knelt on him, oops.
Removed three barrow loads of mess, and one barrow load of wet weeds. Non-Gardening Partner had now been sent to the local store to buy (amongst other things) some more potting mix, bread for his lunch, and reward chocolate for me. You could ask me if I deserve this. I couldn't possibly comment!
Later, mid-afternoon...
Have stopped. Bits of me (i.e. hands and fingers) are aching big-time. Not sure I could grab another weed or clip the secateurs one more time - or indeed plod down the drive again to the dumping place. Got a bit sulky, then worked it out.
Pretty Daffodils
First thing this morning I'd played Brahms for an hour - the piano pieces in Opus 119. Loads of fat right hand octaves and runny stretchy left hand arpeggios - no wonder the hands and fingers feel worn. What a choice! Brahms versus Weeding...
Fred Cat
About to have a nice cup of tea, maybe rub some anti-inflam cream on the fingers, watch some of the Paralympics, read my Mary Queen of Scots book, explore more of the Czech Republic on a train - whatever!
Next day...
Oh, I had such plans! Such plans, as chunky as Denali, as woman-adventurous as Freya Stark. Plans to fully connect myself to my garden all day. Enjoying breakfast outside on the patio table - what were those pretty flashes of light on my phone screen? Aha. The lightest of drizzle spots. Wandered off with camera (and a Fred, smooching my leg and threatening to climb up it). What were those blobs of water on my viewfinder? Aha. Rain.
Later...
But quite quickly the rain blew away, and bits of blue sky appeared. So I went out with all my tools and my wheelbarrow to start some serious work in the Pond Paddock gardens. Have been out there all day, with much achieved.
Fat Minimus
Oh joy!
Oh joy! Weeded the cottage's wee garden, pruned the Henry Hudson roses, rescued Heuchera and Lupins, potted up Lychnis, raked up leaves, cut down waterside ferns and cutty grass (wore my gardening gloves). Raked some more mess up, wheeled last autumn's bags of leaves (for leaf mould) over near the Pump House.
But there's more...
Sorry about this, but it makes me feel soooooo good! There's more. Pruned the Ballerina roses, cut dead canes of the unknown white rambler which climbs the large tree, trimmed a Miscanthus. Started digging out dandelions from the path behind the pond - pretty hopeless, not getting all the roots out. Ha! Thought fondly about secret squirty bottle of weed killer.
On and on I worked, watched by Minimus my grey cottage cat (who always seems to be grumpy when I take photographs of her). I also had duck company - one lone male mallard, contemplating his coming spring fortunes, no doubt. Saved the hand scooping of weeds etc. til last, clearing the back pond path. Left piles of wet weeds on it. Collected all my tools (except my hand scraper, oops). What a great day!
My Pond