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…

AGH! (Or why did I agree to this?)

All right, I know it’s been ages and ages since my last post. A) I’ve been working like a nutcase, and B) every other moment – almost – has been spent gardening. That’s because I have rather rashly agreed to open my garden. To the extremely professional garden club here, so to people who know…

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…

I heart my meadow

I do, I really do. Ever since I made the decision – inspired by laziness and a dislike of either floppy, browning dying back, chopped off or tied back daffodil leaves – to just let the top garden go for it, I have not regretted it for a second. OK, sometimes I might express the odd doubt (generally when…

Couch grass wars

Yesterday – Monday – the forecast was vile, but it also proved to be completely wrong. So though both P and I started off gardening in 85 layers of clothing, they were gradually removed – until something more sensible was reached, cough, not until we were gardening naked. That would not have gone down well…

Hrrrrrumpf

I am officially sulking. This magnificence is not mine. It could have been mine, but this is the one of the two Amaryllis bulbs I bought at a garden centre which I gave away, as a Christmas gift, to my ex-neighbour. Mine was – well, not like that. it had a flower spike, oh yes, but…

Oh, sod off, winter!

I don’t know, we have spring in November, a whole year’s rain in December and now, March, we have snow. Had snow. Had snow a few miles inland; here we had sleet. Oh, all right, I know, global warming, the scary though temporary ‘achievement’ of the 2% above normal temperature recently (that’s the target which…

There are winter jobs…

… and then there are winter JOBS. Jobs which deserve their capital letters. Jobs which you’ve probably been avoiding for several years, if you’re anything like me*. And then one sunny day, when you don’t have a deadline for the first time in months, you suddenly find yourself down the builders’ merchants ordering three tons…

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…

Welcome to 2016….

Grumble, grumble. Back to what passes for normal, except – for the moment – it is NOT raining. Really. The garden is so wet that your squish, squish, squish as you walk on ‘grass’, and P has nearly surfed from one garden to another on mud. Joy, oh joy. However, gardening is taking place. This sort of…

‘Tips for the winter garden’

Reality and journalism – or what sometimes passes for journalism – often collide. And so, in celebration of this fact, I would like to offer some of my very own tips for the winter* garden (watching where you tread should be first, after what I stood in just now, and thank you, Next Door’s Cat). ‘A well-placed…

Shattered… and a party

Agh! Been soooo busy, what with one thing• and another••, that I’ve barely been in the garden. This is probably just as well as the lawns are almost liquid and the beds are covered in dead leaves and ‘donations’ from Next Door’s Cat. And they’re almost liquid too. But I will be back, very shortly….