Skip to main content

Garden Regroup

In little more than two weeks’ time it will be four years since His Lordship Malarkey and I moved from the middle of a town in the middle of Kent to the wide open spaces of the Shropshire countryside and Damson Cottage. Four years! Can you believe? I can’t. 

The garden, when we arrived, was mostly trees and grass. There was a small fruit cage in a corner, with three compost bins by its side. There was a shed. Five water butts. A dilapidated hen house. Five newly planted fruit trees, looking a bit whippy, and a couple of small, shallow and, to my mind, pointless ‘raised’ beds. 

And now? Well, the shed has a new window, so has morphed into a potting shed. The whippy fruit trees are now between 8 and 20 feet tall. One of the ‘raised’ beds has been planted up with lavender. The other had vanished beneath the greenhouse....oh yes! The greenhouse! As I write, Andy is just executing the finishing touches - the automatic vent openers, the gutter and down pipes and the staging. After waiting ten days for the missing glass to be delivered (an irritation, but these days I find myself relatively relaxed about things taking their time to arrive) he has been beavering away today and completed the build! It looks amazing!! I shall post some photos tomorrow.

Where was I? Oh yes - the water butts are still where they ever were, the hen house is now redundant as the lady hens are resident in the Eglu. The fruit cage has grown to three times it original original size. We’ve started to subdivide the garden into ‘rooms’ by installing a hornbeam hedge which is now almost 6 feet tall in places. We’ve made a larger raised bed, and I have evicted many shrubs in my mission to create a rose bed. 

And the compost bins? Well, today I decided to empty them. It was like discovering gold - such good compost! This decision is because, having spent so much time at home recentry, we have decided to have a Garden Regroup. Our plans, you see, have outgrown the garden that we started with 4 years ago. And things require shifting. Starting with the compost bins. Which have to be emptied first. 

Now, a Garden Regroup requires consultation with these two books - my gardening bibles, if you will. They are...
and, of course...
...because Monty is the font of all knowledge and I adore him. 

These books are great to dip into from time to time because they provide a refresher course in getting things right, and inspiration, and enthusiasm, and a reminder of all the things you’ve forgotten and also why you want a fabulous garden in the first place! 

So, with the help of these books, the garden at Damson Cottage will change thus:

1) the compost bins will move across the garden to behind the potting shed to sit with the water butts and the incinerator. 

2) the fruit cage will double in size to encompass the current compost bin area and the gap between its current outside edge and the new greenhouse.

3) the round scruffy shrub bed halfway up the garden will be dug up and turned into a round patio seating area and provide a transition zone between the ‘socialising’ garden and the ‘working’ garden. We think we might install a fence and tall gate to make the garden ‘rooms’ more defined.

4) a round garden seat will be placed around the trunk of the plum tree. Because what was going to be the new veg garden (within the perimeter of the hornbeam hedge) will now be a mini orchard with places to sit and relax. Its current raised bed will grow flowers for cutting for the house. Large pots will be introduced, also for flowers.

5) The lawn space at the top of the garden will be taken over by 8 raised beds with slabbed pathways in between. This will accommodate the four crop group rotation practice, and our wheelbarrow in times of heavy rain because it is a wheelbarrow that doesn’t take much encouragement to get itself bogged down.

6) the site of the old greenhouse (which fell over in the wind during our second winter) will be given over to a large cold frame.

7) a pergola will be installed between our patio doors and the laundry building to provide support for the wisteria which, quite frankly, is growing WILD. I envisage being able to sit out beneath a trailing wisteria ‘room‘ within two years! So romantic...sigh...

8) a frame will be constructed up and over the front porch in an attempt to tame the climbing rose ‘Starlight Express’ before the postman refuses to deliver because he can’t find the front door without fear of being scratched to smithereens. 

I can see it all now! Of course, it will take a while to realise, but having a vision can go along way to encourage one along the route to making a dream a reality. 


Comments

rusty duck said…
I am a true believer in eating an elephant in bite sized pieces. Not that I ever would eat an elephant of course. But once you have a plan then you can decide which piece to eat first and on it goes.
Can't wait to see the greenhouse!
aileen g said…
Goodness Denise, I need a lie down after just reading about your plans. It's so exciting when things start to fall into place, and I say "fall" but we all know how much hard work will be involved but it sounds as if it will all be worth it. My garden was just lawn (well - just grass really) with 5 blackthorn trees jammed up against the fence when I moved in. The trees had to come out as they were in totally the wrong place and in danger of pushing fence down. Now there is no grass at all (I regard mowing grass as akin to vacuuming - totally pointless) and I have a gravel area with a circular herb garden surrounded by wide herbaceous borders, and some raised beds at the back with a couple of mini apple trees, and a narrow border right at the back which gets all sorts of random flower seeds chucked in. It also has the 2 David Austin climbing roses I was so disparaging about a few weeks ago but one of them is really putting on a show this year so I take it all back. The other rose is a bit meagre but I keep battling with my rear neighbours' bindweed (apparently they love the pretty white flowers!) so maybe next year? There were 3 roses but one has completely disappeared! Well done to you and his lordship for getting the greenhouse erected - not the easiest thing to do in my experience.
Denise said…
Jessica - my grandfather used to tell me that burgers were made from elephant trunk. This, of course, has nothing to do with the gardening metaphor. Just thought I’d mention it. I believe Monty is very keen on bite size gardening. And we both know Monty is best!

Aileen, your garden sounds delightful! Love the idea of a circular herb bed - what herbs have you got? Mine are spread around all over the place at the moment, so maybe I need to rationalise them, too? Andy must take the lion’s share of praise for greenhouse building - all I did was hold glass when required!

Popular posts from this blog

The Frosted Dawn Enigma

The decorators are in at the moment. Stairs and landing. Given my previous history of 'Hoo Ha Occurring on Stairs ' - reference the Trapped Under the Sofa Incident and the Foot Wedged Between Bookcase and Stair Rise Debacle - I thought it wise to pay for professionals to decorate the stairs and landing rather than get myself in a mix with ladder and plank combinations and achieve the Magic Three of staircase accidents. The decorators are a father and son combo who go by the  names of Craig and David. This automatically causes me entertainment. 'Came in on a Monday, prepped, filled and undercoated, back on Thursday, first top coating, by Friday finishing touches...' Okay, not as frisky or well-scanned as the original song, but you get where I'm coming from. Anyway, before they started the job Craig asked what colour I wanted for the walls. 'Same colour as the downstairs walls, please,' said I. 'Dulux Frosted Dawn.' And then white for ...

Day 1 - Decisions Are Made Beyond the Author's Control.

‘Well,’ I say, looking at the expectant faces gathered around the huge table in the Great Dining Hall of Much Malarkey Manor, ‘I didn’t think it was going to happen this year, but it is!’ There is a sharp intake of breath as everyone wonders of what I speak. I’ve been muttering about all sorts recently, and I’m not talking liquorice here either.   ‘The Much Malarkey Manor Annual and Traditional Christmas Story!’ I say, and wait for the expulsed air of relief to settle before I continue. ‘I thought we had done it all. I thought we had covered every Christmas story there was. I’ve been wracking my brains for a full two months now, trying to come up with something we haven’t done before and then it hit me! We haven’t done a version of one of the Great Christmas Films of Yore!’ ‘Your what?’ says Mrs Slocombe, who is more interested in the selection of pastries I have brought to this breakfast meeting, because that is what one does, isn’t it? Eat pastries at breakfast...

Sun Puddles

A few weeks ago, I met up with a dear friend for a meditation and healing afternoon, both of us being light workers on the spirit pathway. It did me good to re-engage in a bit of focused energy channelling (because I have let my practice slip somewhat) and during the afternoon the words ‘sun puddles’ popped into my head.  Now, I know this wasn’t my human brain thinking these words because I have never heard the phrase before; when I arrived home, I looked it up and said to myself, ‘Aaah, you mean sun spots!’ This is a sun puddle... ...there! That thing that Flora is lying on. No, not the sofa - the warm patch of sunshine on the sofa. Here are Flora and Bambino sharing a sun puddle... This proves that no matter how much they scrap with each other and try to denude each other of fur all over my rugs, they secretly share a mutual and fond admiration. I think. And here is Bambino on a sun puddle that has come to rest on my legs... It’s his casual, ‘I’m so cool’ pose. Metaphorically coo...