Where’s Beangenie?

I’ve had several people asking me recently about this blog, and why I’ve not been posting to it. Am I OK? Have I, perhaps, moved? Decided to concrete over the garden in fury? Cover it in decking, maybe? Tempting though the latter might be at times like this, when I have to collect all the hay…

Farewell to the cedar

Once upon a time I had two Western Red Cedars in the garden. One was about 1.5 metres from the side of the house and was showing clear signs of wanting to be in the house, so that had to come down, which it did in 2012. That was OK, because I had another. Until…

Giving in to horticultural temptation

I have the willpower of a maggot. It is known. So when I found myself over by the Yorkshire coast for a family wedding, it was only natural that I should also, mystically, find myself over by an amazing nursery. Sigh. And it is a truth universally acknowledged that an addicted gardener in possession of…

Time passes!

and before you know it, and without it being deliberate, it’s almost a whole year since my last post. And the post before that was an apology-lament about not blogging. Well. I am back. Really. No, I am. And so is the garden, but then that never stopped doing the changing thing. and now, thank…

Still growing – and still here!

Oh dear, so much time has passed since I promised myself I would blog more frequently and get back on track. All I’ve managed to do is feel guilty that I wasn’t doing either. So while I am still stupidly busy I’ve decided to do some brief posts, and maybe the occasional meadow watch thing,…

Warm your hands on this

It’s suddenly got nippy. I don’t know why anyone should be surprised, really, it is November after all, and my poor neglected garden got a bit of attention: the ceremonial burning of the Great Bonfire Heap of Doom. Just after the ceremonial cutting of the Great Hedge of Procrastination and Argument, and just before the last ceremonial…

Please stop….

I just want the garden to stop for a bit while I catch ip with it. Please… whimper… First, the apples. Oh my lordy, the apples. Apples to the right of them, apples to the left of them, into the valley of apples rode the six hundred … well, me and P with a load of carrier bags….

Progress (garden open, 2). And digging.

This post is supposed to be wordless, as it’s Wednesday, but I’ve tried that and I can’t shut up. My word of the day, however, is AGH as I did too much gardening yesterday and my back is protesting. But progress has been made. Less than a week to go to open garden, so that’s…

How to wreck yourself in a single day

I know I shouldn’t have. But I’ve had so much work on, and the weather’s been a bit iffy / cold / wet / abominable / windy, and what with one thing and another… ow. Ow. Ouch. Enough, already. I’ve been a bad gardener (I’ve been a bad blogger too, but that’s because I can’t…

The winter of my discontent

Grumble, grumble, grumble. Guess what the weather is doing? Again? Everything is wet. Even the logs stacked in the greenhouse are wet. I’m wet. The Hell Hound of Harlech got wet. P got wet, though despite this he still decided to go tree climbing with a bow saw and take a branch off the cherry. Next Door’s…