Crazy Rains

Flooded stepping stone.

We're at it again, that impossible Six on Saturday challenge to share six & only six things of interest in the garden.

When last we met, I'd nearly completed my potting shed, & the missing parts to my storage shed had finally arrived.

I'd hoped my shed adventures would be behind me by now.

Instead, we had a week of crazy rain.



1.  Inside job.

The potting shed roof got brought inside to dry out before felting on it.

It's just a tiny thing.  Not at all in the way.

While construction of the storage shed began in the living room.

Which bag of screws do we use?

2.  Cabin fever.

We've an ancient mattress turned down by every charity, & impervious to Freecycle.  All these rainy days, there's me nurturing a convert's belief that inside this mattress lives the perfect trellis for my berry wands.

During surgery.

I'll half the springs (like making a sandwich) to make 2 trellises.  The padding includes a quilted outer cover, an inner coir-like material, & a bit of foam.  Folded together, they make a nice cushion I hope to cover with outdoor fabric to use as a deck pillow for the dogs.


3.   Cutting update.

This is the current state of the cuttings I took a little over a month ago just before we moved - about a 2 thirds death rate.  As hard as it is to believe, that's an improvement for me.

Hardy little curries.

The discussions I'd had with some other SoSers prior to this attempt, suggested that I'd kept my cuttings too wet.  You may notice it's the drought resistant curry plants that've lived.

The pendulum has swung, me thinks.


4.  Into the storm.

Although all of the above are garden things, none of them are photographed in the garden.  So for you, I braved the elements to check on the newly planted woodwardia.

Woodwardia unigemmata.

It's promised that this fern's new growth will come in bright red, then the whole thing'll go a bit bronzy in the autumn.  Considering this thing can grow 2 metres in all directions, can you even imagine?


5.  A shady character.

I got this little guy because I thought his leaves would brighten up my shady border.  A day or 2 inside the warm house & buds appeared.  It bloomed soon after being planted.

Brunnera macrophylla Silver Spear

My photos really disappoint me, but this one in particular fails its subject.  Like forget-me-nots, the brunnera's little blue flowers glow in the shade.  This is a plant I already love.  Can't wait to see it reach full size.


6.  Long awaited daffs.

Where I'm from, the old mountain folk might call someone dumb as a daffodil, because daffs bloom in the snow.  My daffs haven't been at all dumb this year.  I got my first bloom only yesterday.  These were the ones twice rescued from the fox.

Highly intelligent daffs.

Although there's lots of buds, there's also lots of foliage, most of which have little brown tips.  Not sure if the snow butched them all up or the rain gave them some really good hair days, but the arcs of the foliage & tapered buds are stunning.  Never saw daffs look so good.

And there you have it, my Six.

Do I see tulips in my future?

Considering the week that's been in it, don't think I'll make any predictions for next Saturday's Six.

                (wink wink nudge nudge => => => =>)

For the moment, I'm headed over to our meme's host, The Propagator to see what his week's been like.  He'll have links to all the other SoSers in his comment section, so I can catch up with them as well.

Have a garden?  We'd love a snoop in it.  The Propagator's written some guidelines, so why not join us?

Pedal to the Metal

Out of the gates & running like the wind.

It's #SixonSaturday time, guys.  Six things happening this week in my still-new garden.

Last week, it was all wait wait wait for the stars to find their proper alignment before big things could happen.

This week, everything's slipped into gear.  I do believe we took advantage of it.





1.  Shed update.

The potting shed arrived without instructions.  Several phone calls & a few emails later, they sent us a list written in what quite possibly was Middle English.  Ultimately, my budding relationship with the shed provider broke down & we were on our own.

Despite this, by Day 1, we got the floor in place.  As we stood admiring our work, I heard a noise & turned to find myself eye-to-eye with a DoodleFace on top of the wall.  Our Artful Dodger dog had unlatched 2 doors in the house & climbed the wall to share in our joy.

End of Day 2.

The end of Day 2 coincided with the end of the week & all 4 walls in place.  Just before dinner, the missing parts to our storage shed arrived, so next week it'll be duelling sheds for my Six.


2.  Securing the perimeter.

Our back garden has six levels to it.  We took the property on the condition that a 5' fence be erected around the first 3 levels to prevent the continued adventures of Mlle DoodleFace.

This wasn't done (thus the Doodle escape in #1), prompting a 3 week discussion about what constitutes 5'.  That disagreement ended with the consensus that 5' is in fact, 60".

New discussions have commenced over who owns the 4' fence between our property & our neighbours.  The neighbours have several shrubs & small trees along that fence, but there are places where a well oiled Doodle can slip through.

The first breach is next to a small, shady raised bed to the left of the back door, previously loaded down with BioBizz.  Shifting the bags uncovered debris from some long forgotten re-roofing.

Fern bed

Once the area's cleared, a woodwardia unigemmata fern will go in the far corner, & a gillenia trifoliata on the other side, with some smaller plants at the front of the bed.  As a temporary measure, I'll stab a few bamboo sticks next to the fence to fool Mlle DoodleFace into thinking it's 5' tall.

Yes, I'm a dreamer.


3.  Herb garden.

The bed on the other side of the steps gets plenty of sun.  Since the back door leads into the kitchen, this little bed's a great place for the herb garden.

Future herb garden.

Excavating the coping here initially caused a fright.  No bones, but the unveiling gave an impression that under the grass, the whole area'd been paved.  However, eventually the fork sunk up to its armpits in the soil, so herb garden, here we come.


4.  Keep your enemies closer.

When the Beast's snow melted, it showed the prevalence of ground elder in our new neighbourhood.  For such a neglected garden, ours has surprisingly very little.  The bit we do have seems to've originated from under the contested boundary fence.

My first experience with ground elder was 4 gardens ago when we lived in the 17th century priest's house. 

In spring, a triangular bed between a gravel path & an apple store turned yellow with aconite.  Once that died back, the ground elder came along, bloomed a white carpet, then got mowed down by the landlord's gardener.

Sounds very civilised except the ground elder, not content with its triangle, colonised all the beds in that garden.

The Doodle, the kerria, & the ground elder.

Considering the relatively short time we'll be here, I've decided to conserve energy by embracing our ground elder.  Or at least, maintaining a truce with it.

As luck would have it, the ground elder grows at a gap in the neighbours' side.  I dropped in a couple of kerria that I brought with me, thinking they're big & ugly enough to take on ground elder.  Even though they can be thugs, I'll probably stick in a few more to give the impression they're a hedge.

Hopefully, adding some bad tempered bamboo stakes here will deter a certain canine from absconding.


5.  The Pile.

If you remember, the site of our potting shed was previously occupied by a survivalist's shed.  I didn't mention at the time that The Pile occupied another part of that level.

The Pile.

The person who removed the survivalist shed wouldn't take The Pile because it consisted mostly of garden waste.  That undoubtedly makes sense to more knowledgeable persons that myself.  People who also understand badly written Middle English.

Because of this arcane rule, my pots've spent 3 weeks sitting on the lawn.  This week, a certified Pile Remover came, so the Great Pot Migration has begun.

Potted forest, garlic, & weight reduction.

All the garlic, Bast's weight reduction chamber, & about half the potted forest've been moved.  If I want my pears to cross pollinate this year, I better shake a leg & reunite them.


6.  Front garden.

I do have a front garden, but until this week it's been filled with pots, & latterly, shed parts.  This state of affairs causes anxiety in the tiny OAP fairy woman next door (who shouldn't be confused with the RtHL BossyBoots).  OAP fairy woman periodically emerges for updates & offers of tea.  She's relieved that work's begun to expand a bed.

At present, my plan incorporates This Thang growing under the window.  It looks like a passion flower to me, which is strange because it survived the Beast.  Could there be hardy passions at our new house?  Do hardy passions even exist outside works of fiction?

We shall see.

This Thang. 

The proposed occupants of the expanded bed include a spirea & some roses, all languishing in their pots.  The roses were grown from seeds found in a graveyard in Paris.  Hopefully I can propagate them, because it'll take nerves of steel to leave those babies behind.

There's also a peony that, with 2 of its mates, I dragged from the Angry Village (3 gardens ago).  The 2 mates grew happily in the very next garden, so were left there.  The last of the trio - wherever I've planted it, however much I've cossetted it - rewards me with peony pouts.  Maybe this bed'll put a blush in its blossom.

In the space beween the plants I brought with me & This Thang, I'll plant some of my colourful veg in lieu of garden flowers.  I'll let you know how the OAP fairy takes to them.

Well earned rest.

And that's our busy week.  It's felt good to make progress, limited though it may be.

Now that you & I've caught up, be sure to head over to The Propagator to see what he's been up to.  In his comments, you'll find links to all sorts of Six-on-Saturday folk hailing from 4 continents (at my last count).

Thanks for stopping by.  Hope to see you next week.

Onwards to Horticultural Glory!*

Bags are packed & ready to go.

It's Saturday again, time to write about six things gardening related, however tenuously.  If you've a place where you garden - no matter how small, how new, how neglected - why not share six things from it that grabbed your attention this week?


As to The Writing Closet itself, we're moving house.


In terms of the actual grunt work, I've been relegated to a mostly supervisory post, which affords me time for our weekly SoS confab - to read, comment on & re-tweet Sixes go leor.


But first, let's check in on the moving team.






1.  Container plants.

Gardeners have pots, but because of our frequent moves, mine are occupied mostly by trees & shrubs.  I used to plant & lift my roses with every move until one of my favourites nearly died on me.

I promised, if it lived, it could stay put.  It lived & I kept my promise, resolving that in future, nothing goes into the ground unless I'm willing to leave it behind.

Of course, some pot dwellers languish.  If nothing perks them up, they get slapped into the ground & I do a You-Better-Feckin-Live dance around them.

Watch this space.  Workshops on dance gardening are coming to a venue near you.

Back in the present, we knew a night flit was in the offing, so this year's garlic crop joined my little potted forest in planter bags of their own.

In the van queue, w/Mlle DoodleFace checking the All Clear.

2.  Cuttings

In addition to sinking pot haters into the ground, I plant anything that populates on its own, then lift a few when I go.

Having said that, I always take cuttings.  Rarely if ever do they survive, but other Six-on-Saturday-ers such as Fred & Chicu have encouraged me to have another go.

Here I am, once again, attempting the Great Cuttings Challenge.

Ever the optimist.

Curry plants, purple sage, buddleia alternifolia, plus a late-contender weigela because there were pockets left in the tray.  All easy propagators, so surely some of those babies'll live.


3.  Don't forget us!

Of course, my gardening crew's coming, too.

Mr BigNose, Mlle DoodleFace & Mizzy BunnyButt

This shot was only possible because of the Dreamies on top of the hat box.  Bribery rates right up there with dance gardening, in my experience.


4.  The Crypt.

Until we reach our forever home, no pet gets left behind.  That includes the dearly departed, of which there are four.  The first 3 are in their burial urns (decorative planters), but our most recent loss, 15 year old Bast, didn't quite fit inside the one we got for her.  She's currently on a weight loss plan.

Weight loss chamber.

Her crypt is properly secured from fox, corvids &, dare I say it, the dogs.  A collection of star shaped aquilegia, a handful of bulbs, & we'll forget what's happening underground.

Bast, pushing up columbine & various bulbs.

5.  Beehive composter.

Feel free to scoff at this one.  We sacrificed utility on the altar of an outdoor painting frenzy.

No, Big Nose, we're not going to take it apart.

6.  And importantly, the shed innards that someone forgot to pack up.

Whose job was it to empty the shed?

Once the shed's empty, we're off.  Apparently the new landlord's been slicking up the place since last we saw it, so I'm ready to be impressed.

The great, late Bast in the hammock 3 gardens ago.

Impressed or not, Tim Hewitt advised I go onward to horticultural glory, & so I shall!

For more rooted SoSers, tarry over to the Propagaor for his Six on Saturday.  In addition to his week's efforts, there's always a coupla dozen links to other garden blogs in his comment section.

Onward!

* Quoting Tim Hewitt's comment on my last week's blog.