On Tuesday evening, Darling Daughter and I went to the cinema to see the musical ‘Six’ on satellite. I didn’t know what to expect, really, but it was very good and something I would happily see again.
Yesterday, I was in Head Gardener mode again because it would be rude not to take advantage of this consistent blessing of fine and dry weather. As the Damson Cottage Estate has taken shape over the past almost nine years (I know! Where did that time go??) I am glad we made the decision to divide the plot into dedicated, if somewhat pretentiously named, sections. This means when I have a gardening day, I can decide what section I am going to work on - the Mediterranean area, the Orchard, the Vegetable Garden, the Soft Fruit Garden etc etc - rather than spend time buzzing randomly from one area to another as I did when it was a blank and open canvas. Yesterday, then, I decided that the lavender bed next to the garden shed needed attention.
It’s called the lavender bed area because the year after we moved here, I bought and planted six lavender plants there. Lady Rosemary, who is across the path between the shed and the bed, had settled in well the previous year so I thought the lavenders would do nicely in the same area. And so they did. For a while.
But because the area gets sun for only around half the day, the lavenders soon took on the tilted look of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and then they began to be overtaken by grass, which is purely my fault for not paying attention on account of my then working full time. They became woody and wild and so the time had come to lift them and repurpose the bed.
As I dug and weeded and cut back the hawthorn ‘n’ holly hedge that bordered the bed because that was becoming wild, also, I thought, ‘What shall I do with this space?’ And because I asked and because I was loving gardening and therefore in the right space for listening, Gerda, the Norse Goddess of Gardening, suggested in my ear that I could turn the space into a strawberry bed.
‘There’s already a couple of raspberry canes here,’ she said. ‘I think soft fruit might be the way to go.’
She was right, of course. I have no idea where the raspberry canes came from because I certainly didn’t put them there and they weren't there when we moved in. I can only assume some bird had stolen a raspberry from the canes over the other side of the garden and carelessly dropped it in the lavender bed whilst making its escape. Can a raspberry cane grow like that? I have no idea. Anyway, they are there and they are established, so I let them be. I’ve added ‘Buy strawberry plants’ to my gardening list. And the nice thing about strawberry plants is that they make their own baby strawberry plants so, theoretically, I shall never have to buy another strawberry plant again #inventoroftheTitanicfingerscrossed.
The old lavenders have not gone to waste. I took fourteen cuttings. They will do or die, as cuttings are wont to do. They are living in the propagator (not plugged in - I don’t want to fry them) as the propagation instructions regarding lavender waffled on a bit about using plastic bags and cable ties and I thought, I’ll pop them in the propagator instead - it’s less faff.
Today, I tackled the soft fruit area. This involved doing battle with nettles, docks, dandelions, moss, buttercups, sticky weed, ground elder and ivy. I know. The Anti-Magnificent Seven Plus One of the gardening world. When I made noises about climbing a ladder to cut back the top of the hawthorn hedge and thin out an ivy-smothered rowan tree in order to let more sunlight into the space, Lord Malarkey rode in like the cavalry, because he didn’t want me climbing a ladder whilst wielding electrical cutting tools, which is odd, because of the two of us I am by far the least accident prone. However, I very much appreciated his input and am v.pleased with how much we achieved between us. And even more pleased that the only injury sustained was a splinter. Lord Malarkey, since you ask.
Norse Goddess Gerda has suggested I mulch the soft fruit area with bark chippings in order to suppress the weeds which seem very fond of that area of garden. I thought this was an excellent idea and said could she wave her staff and magic some into place, and she laughed and said I was a lazy so and so, and to do it myself. Given I do not have access to a magic staff this will involve more heavy lifting, but it matters not. All good for the fitness, eh?
I can report there are now NINE emerging tomato plants! Whether they produce tomatoes this side of Christmas remains to be seen but I shall do my darnedest to encourage them.
Tomorrow, the mahoosive dumpy bag of gravel I ordered is arriving at 8.30 a.m. Courtyard focus day, then. And maybe mow the Middle Garden grass.
Here is Nell, looking how I will probably feel by the start of the weekend:
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KJ