Mulberry and quinces; what an exotic combination. I don’t know why, but both trees seem to evoke something cloistered and medieval. Our mulberry tree I am relieved and delighted to say is showing signs of leaf. After a long winter and what looks like a direct hit of lightning one didn’t hold out much hope. But here it is, almost May and there are leaves on even the lowest branch that is hanging on by little more than willpower.

I only really had a look at the tree as I was inspecting the terrace strimming first thing this morning. And don’t they look neat and prim. Wish they would stay that way. But at least we are starting off with a good clean slate. The brambles were trying to take hold already, so I am pleased that if the weather keeps up its pattern of steady warmth and little rain their progress may be checked. For a bit.

The quinces are in flower this year: and although I can’t detect any scent, I hope the bees will be pollinating this year.  I don’t recall seeing such blossom. But then I doubt I ever took the time to really look. The detail of a quince flower is quite beguiling, much less complicated as a blossom compared, say, to an apple or a peach.

As I was heading down to raid the cow parsley fields, I noticed so many other worthy plants in the banks. Some are these striking mauve purple saxifrage flowers. Little star shaped carpets of joy. But until Andrew presents me with the longed for book on Massif Central wildflowers, I shall remain ignorant. So generous to be sharing not just his knowledge of garden plants, but the wild beasties too.

And speaking of garden plants here are the little collection of plants that make up one of the terraces on the bank.  Hard to differentiate them just yet, but here are some ornamental grasses (calamagrostis Karl Foerster), Joe Pye Weed, Echinacea Purpurea Magnus, and salvias galore. And sedums, plus weeds. Work to do there. But at least there is growth.

What else did I achieve today? Lots of Rose New Dawns about the place now thanks to some cuttings taken in September. This one, I think, came from Jacquet nursery when I bought the apricot and nectarine trees. It has put on plenty of growth this spring, so needed tying in. One day it will clothe this wall. But it’s still an infant.

I zipped over to the potager to make sure the cloches stayed in place. Bit of a storm today, so they took a mini battering. But all is well and rather symmetrical which pleases me no end. I know, there is a missing cover. I ran out of Enviromesh. I have a greenish alternative that will have to do for a few weeks. But hopefully the cabbage moth butterflies won’t have hatched yet and started their search for nesting plants for next years grubs.

I found a space for the extra cosmos plants which I found amongst the seedlings in the potting shed. And put more in one single row behind each cloche. And another thirty up against the wall beside the strawberries. Where haven’t I put cosmos? Another successful germination story in the potting shed. Bring on a surge of growth and get them into flower I say.

An eight until eight day. Full on vegetable garden work with just a few breaks to gulp tea and gird loins for another attack.

I started with a mass watering. The hose is intact now which is a thrill and even reaches as far as the grasses above the pool.

Next I earthed up the tatties, good looking successful crop so far in the lower quadrant. I haven’t bothered to net them. And just hope that they won’t be a tasty delicacy for the wildlife.

Sowed more marigolds – I found an extra seed tray full of fledgling seedlings in the potting shed.

Uprooted the brassica row – a shame because there is good eating there. If I had the time to laboriously pick off the little leaves. And after eight solid months of Kale I’m about ready for a break. Shame there’s nothing else right now. The little lettuces are very little indeed. But I have hopes.

Planted 75 cosmos tall sensation mix plants in a long lovely row along the newly laid weedproof fabric.
Then yet more marigolds in an attempt for more symmetry. They will crowd the Swiss chard that I found were hidden underneath the brassicas. But a bit of competition will have to suffice. And who knows, maybe the scent of marigolds will put Daisy off her annual Swiss Chard devastation session. But I shall net those as they have found to be a wonderful tonic after the deer ate all the lettuce. A bit of fibre in her diet.

Then after a bit of raking and minor weeding. It was down with the last of the neat weedproof fabric and on with the construction.

I have four cloches so under one went a very crowded block of Greyhound cabbage. In another the Purple Sprouting Broccoli (glutton for punishment) another to host the Savoy cabbages and the last the kale (Cavallo Nero again). Hopefully as they will be under their enviromesh I won’t have the cabbage moth butterfly infestations like last year.

To finish – and I felt finished by about 6pm, but soldiered on, I loosely netted the entire broad bean and cosmos section of the potager. There is room for bees to get in and pollinate the beans, but hopefully will deter anything larger. I’ll probably get up tomorrow and find it draped over the blueberry bushes on the far side – with tell tale hoof marks in the bed. But you have to try.

And believe it or not after the marathon day I realise that I need to sow more plants. The beetroot have to go in. More beans – the yard long variety – no idea where they will fit. They may go with the corn. Very south American of me. And there are another hundred or so more cosmos plants.

I abandoned in the gloaming; pausing only to marvel at the horizon. Sadly I don’t think I even looked up today to enjoy the spring. Twas head down and full steam fiddly seedlings ahead.

It’s warm work outside. Layers are being shed all over the garden. I have come in for lunch after mulching the soft fruit trees and before I started on the peas and beans. There is to be a mass planting this afternoon. Doors are wide open in both houses to air them and the birds are making a racket worthy of a dawn chorus.

I started day with a walk through of strimming task with JB (he is off to make a lot of noise on the lower terraces). And then it was haul out the seedlings, and on with work.

Gad what didn’t I plant today? Aubergines, climbing French beans, cucumbers, more and yet more peas (had to shoehorn them into non existent gaps at the ends of all rows. And I even ruined my mad symmetrical perfection quest by making one of the rows longer than the other two. Shame on me. I bet there is a potager guild that forbids such behaviour.

Planted a row of marigolds in between the carrots. And now it’s after nine pm and I realise I didn’t properly water them in. Rats. JB called me away to help feed the thread on the strimmer and I must have lost my train of thought after the break.

The scent of the wisteria on the front of the house was a welcome distraction from mulch. And every time I looked up from the black plastic, brown dirt and pots, I could see the beautiful little clematis snaking its way up the grape vine in the strawberry bed. Dozens more buds – so this sunshine ought to bring them out in a rash.

Even the irises in the edge of the potager put on a show. Didn’t know we had them. Goodness only knows what happened to the poor bulbs last year.

The potatoes have been earthed up, the poppy Patty’s Plum found a place in the little stipa grass and flower bed at the end of the lawn, and why, I even added to the soft fruit area by putting in two more blueberry plants. Wish I had a dozen, they start off by offering just a handful of fruit each year, but give them time and time away from passing deer, and they may make us a compote of fruit yet.

Oh yes, and I planted sunflowers. Where? Why in amongst the peas of course. Once the peas are over these nifty climbing frames will have to earn their keep.

And here are the terraces now they have had their first haircut. Tidy. Won’t last, but I do like to start well. Actually JB’s main job was to remove lots of sticks and branches that had accumulated in piles on the banks and in an untidy heap. So unsightly when one sits on the terrace and instead of admiring the view, hones in on the one blemish in an otherwise spectacular row of terraces.

Writing this on the train ten days later and I can’t see for the sun blazing into the carriage. Bring on the tunnel so I can actually see the computer screen. As my notes are frankly poor I have been diligently downloading pictures into daily folders; all in a desperate bid to try and remember what sort of planting or pruning or pottering (don’t get much time for that)  I did each day this trip. And naturally there are pictures where I have no idea how to place them. So a scattering of photo album entries will have to cover up this gaff. Here’s the first.

I think these images came from staggering about the property yesterday randomly clicking on things to try and record what stage they are at now it is almost May. The viburnum looks as fetching green as it will be when it turns white. And the blossom on the fruit trees in the orchard is better now that a few weeks ago.

The wisteria is definitely an end of May and early June beast. It seems to have been at this promising stage for ages. So too the roses in the courtyard. The Gertie Jekylls look so much more prosperous this year than at the end of the autumn. Pruning and tying and nurturing does pay off.
And my first alliums are up. This once shaded part of the garden is about to become problematic. With the canopy of the neighbouring chestnuts tamed, there will be plenty more sunshine to thwart my ideas of lush shade loving plants in this area. Well, that’s boasting, I had a few ideas but never went further than thinking of great swathes of Rogersias and such. So I fear it is to remain a bit of a trial bed (in more ways than one) for another season.

Unless of course my Agastache romp away. I have about sixty seedlings coming along, they need a few weeks more before I dare to plant them out. And even then there will have to be some careful planning. Right now I have lots of bulbs creeping about the edge (‘A pity you huddle’ is about the extent of my design) – liatris spicata, these alliums, more lilies, mystery plants that were washed away in the rain last April and have survived the year in the ground. I’m not sure but some of these plants look suspiciously like joe pye weed. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful bonus. I took such effort to sow them last year, then had to put them out in the shade and elements for two weeks. During which time each pot flooded and I thought I lost the lot. I think there are poppies here too. But have to wait to see if they are not just actually boring old weeds.

Up at the top potager (ugly with its weedproof covering, so messily arranged) there is no mistaking the two main crops. Asparagus and raspberries. And my they do need taming. I forgot to ask Bernard to help me build the supports and get the wires in to help picking the raspberries later in the year. And he doesn’t seem to be in a handy man cycle right now. We must rejoice in the two weeks he was able to devote to our landscaping now that others (and his saxophone) claim his time.

What other news? I didn’t kill the mulberry in the courtyard with my early pruning. It is sprouting all about. So too the vines. Hate to think what sort of rising sap and mighty surge is happening to the vines down in the vineyard. Shan’t look, it will only distress.

Ah the first aphid squish of spring: too much fun all round. As it was still light until just before 9pm, I was loathe to come indoors so I stayed out admiring all the nascent rose buds, and ended up on full Inspect and Destroy mission of bugs. Green fingers and thumbs, lovely.

Since our last visit we have been blessed with helpers. Walls have been finished, steps built and messes cleared away. What, no more cement mixer cluttering up the Calabert? Indeed.

Here are the new steps down from the swimming pool to the old stables. Refreshingly rustic and charming I think. And I now have steps that link the little terrace behind the potting shed and the lower path. It was one of those needs must affairs.

I have been scrambling inelegantly up this little slope for two years now, and finally it has been designated an official path. We had originally planned to finish the wall along this part of the garden. But stone walls are laborious, expensive and slow. At long last the tiny bit of the top of one set of steps down to the pool has been finished up by Bernard and JB. So instead we are going to be creative with grasses and think of plants as our barriers.

All the stones have been cleared away and now it’s time to think about just what grasses will hold up the slope. Luckily I still have plenty of miscanthus sinensis left over from the Plantagenet order. They will do nicely here.

And it is so lovely to have some eyesores sorted. No more clutter down at the chestnut log wall. No more huge sheets of roofing material in the woodshed. All is just refreshingly sorted.

And lush. You really do earn this burst of colour at this time of year. The lilac is out at last and not looking tattered but rather crisp. The tulips are in a perfect spot for colour. This part of the courtyard gets little direct sunlight so the chances are I will be able to keep these tulips going for a good bit more. There is mint to go in the same planter, but it can lurk up at the potting shed for a few more weeks. It’s a long trek for mint with the potatoes, but I’d rather the aesthetics of tulips over mint any day.

And speaking of potting sheds. It is bursting. I had to haul out crates of seedlings for hardening off – there’s’ just no more room for all my new plants. That will be a job for the morrow. One last look around – the lawn is so lush you need to shield your eyes – (exaggerating of course, but we are all so thrilled this miraculous grass came through its tough winter unscathed) time for planning a week of gardening tasks.

Just a half day of work but I packed in a lot: I found more sunflowers to sow, plus the pumpkin seeds which I kept over from last year’s mighty crop. And Bernard arrived at eight to see where he could put the last of the  little shelves for our new kitchen pantry. He also changed over the blade of the strimmer, so naturally I had to give it a test run. It started second go and roared into life.

I worked my way down the main road cutting a swathe along the banks that line the road. I don’t think we are going to prune it utterly like last year. There are so many exquisite little wild flowers in the bank. And the cow parsleys are up and I love them for the vase in the living room. Well, I love them until they do their job and shed their seeds all over the house.

With a bit of time left I had a go at the first terrace too. I don’t remember there being that many nettles in the middle of the path last year. Perhaps because I managed to mow quite closely they never had a chance. I strimmed the worse of the tops off, but must get to and tidy up next visit. Flowering stinging nettles are the last thing we need.

I collected kale and more purple sprouting broccoli from the potager, plus lots of herbs. The sage is up and not looking as scruffy as a month ago. But I think I have lost the largest of the artichokes next to the euphorbias.

The action of the garden: vegetables are looking rather good right now.  It’s that dormant time before the deer discover the juiciest of my plants and the weeds aren’t overwhelming. The weedproof fabric is all down and the most of the crops are in – just the brassica quadrant to go. Plus the beetroot and the flowers I want to put in between the rows.

The brassica plants are all coming along nicely in the cold frame. And with a promise from Bernard to water in there every two days while I am away means they may even be able to go out at the end of the month. Plants don’t get much time to harden off I fear. I always say that as the potting shed / cold frame is so gusty with all its cracks and gaps that they get a tough start in life anyway.

I really wanted to get out the mower and have a go at more grass. But that was just inviting disaster for a late train. No, being good, I downed tools, cleared the house, donated my lovely tulips to a neighbour and drove to the train via the boulangerie at Vernoux.

On the train I am studying Sarah Raven’s Cutting Garden book for inspiration. And working hard at trying to drown out the noise of the Game Boy Express. Easter holidays, Euros Disney meltdowns and a late arriving train. Lille was a positive zoo. But I floated zen-like along the crowds of ankle biters and end of tether parents thinking of my lovely cosmos seedlings and what the future flower garden will look like.

According to my notes this is still Thursday. And after the wet start, things took off and the team of workers (JB and Bernard) arrived to do their bit about the property as well. They are building a set of steps from the pool shed (old stables) up to the swimming pool. Progress going well, but with so much rain last night, they don’t dare work the soil today. Instead Bernard made shelves for the pantry and JB removed stones.

Now things look a bit alarming right now, but this is the side of the shade garden. Yes, it looks like a landslide. But once the stones are gone and the soil is moved back up where it belongs I can get on with planting it up with grasses. We had originally planned for this to be another stone wall. That’s the reason why all the stones are stockpiled here. But as the progress of the walls is excruciatingly slow and expensive, a planted bank of grasses it shall be. Cheaper at half the price. And once the stones go I will even be able to sow grass seeds on the long path that leads from the barn to the far steps behind the pool. It’s days like this that you can imagine progress and picture the finished product.
What else did I do? I sowed a small packet of grasses collected from Pearl Beach north of Sydney and then shuffled the plants about in the shed. And when in doubt I am potting on the cosmos. There’s acres of the stuff. but they will look pretty in the potager among the vegetables.

I had one more clematis that was growing well under glass, but decided to plant it out under the cherry tree next to the potting shed. That’s where I can keep an eye on it. It’s another one of my mystery plants: but probably won’t flower this year so I should be safe.

Then by lunchtime the sun came out and I sprinted full pelt to the vegetable garden to get the crops in. First up came the tomatoes tethered to their mighty poles. I think there is room for two more here in this part of the garden: more exotic varieties perhaps. Here is the list of what has gone in:

Tomate Poire jaune

Tomate Ananas

Tomate Noire de Crimee

Tomate Coeur de Boeuf

Tomate Marmande

Tomate Corazon (an F1)

Tomate Tigrelle Bicolore

Tomate Cornue des Andes

Next I put in the green poles for the future climbing French beans. Very handsome they are too, and I must look out for more when I see them. I noticed that the garden centre I usually go to has put up all its prices: potting mix that was seven euros last year is now ten, poles that were two fifty are now almost four. It does make for a bit of a shock at the check out – but I keep telling myself I am investing in infrastructure (with the poles) so they won’t wear out. But potting mix is a very temporary affair. And with all my plants I am going through it at a rate of knots.

There is enough room for more peas so I sowed two rows of peas next to a future pea netted pole. I ran out of pea nets. Well, I have plenty of the thinner netting, but I have to use it to drape over all the sowed seedlings to stop them being eaten by deer.

Not a problem for the salad; they have their own dedicated cloche. I planted out 45 salad plugs and kept some of the non-bolting land cress in place wherever they looked sturdy. Ruined my pretty design and planting scheme having random land cress among the lettuce, but I’ll live. I’m much more utilitarian this year.

Under another protective cloche I planted out the precious six aubergine plants. I really should drape some fleece over these fragile looking hothouse plants: massive leaves and very top heavy. But I am hoping that the stakes and the cloche will hold off the worst of any shredding storm.

As I was pacing about the garden for the last time this fortnight I decided to have a quick weed of the carrot rows. They are just germinating which is a thrill. As are the marigolds up in the potting shed. I sowed marigolds in a drill between the carrot rows last year and neglected to thin them out. I had a dense crop. So this year I will pace and space a bit better. And hopefully the deer won’t notice the unnetted carrot fronds sticking out the soil.

The potatoes are up a bit – I don’t dare walk on the rows to weed between the potatoes just yet. At the end of the month things will be sturdier. And I am hoping that I can put the lawn clippings between the rows to keep the worst of the weeds down. It’s the only part of the vegetable garden that isn’t covered in weedproof fabric. I am hoping that the density of the potato plants will cover the bare soil rather quickly.

Then I decided – perhaps rashly- to plant out the corn even though they are rather small and have only had three days of hardening off. I have about twenty more seeds as a back up still germinating, so if I lose these ones planted it won’t be the end of the world.

I  planted the corn in two rows down the left hand side of the potager; hopefully turning it into a green hedge and shielding the mess of the potager from the neat rows of the lawn and pool. And if the verbena bonariensis comes up after its tough winter under the snow then they may make a pretty double hedge. With a thin strip of grass path in between. We shall see. The grass path is more scalped weed than lawn, but it’s early yet.

The strawberries are looking lush: last year we lost the entire crop, so here’s hoping things get pollinated and fruiting soon.

My happy work in the potager was only slowed down when a tremendous clap of thunder at 5pm meant all the workers had to bid a hasty retreat. JB (a former resident of Le Buisson) is moving stones and helping Bernard with the step building, so we were an industrious trio all afternoon.

I went into the shed to hide from the rain and potted on the climbing French beans into the newly available root trainers. From corn to beans in about half an hour. That’s what I call a quick turnaround.

Rats, rats, rats. Raining. And it has been since yesterday afternoon. If you only knew all the things I was going to do today: the list is vast. Strim the terraces, do a bit of chemical destruction to the weeds around the vineyard, strim a small path up past the walnut trees (the rest we are going to leave as wildflower meadow this year). Plant tomatoes, plant aubergines, put up the bean poles for the sweet peas and climbing beans. Plant lettuce plugs. I could go on. But so does the rain.

I just went up to the potting shed to check the rain gauge – we have had 36mm of rain overnight. Which my gauge very helpfully tells me that it’s almost one and a half inches in old money. My main reason for going out was to see if there was anything left of the wildflower paths. The rain was so loud and emphatic overnight that it rattled the windows just after five this morning. And once you are awake and imagining the worst you don’t easily go back to sleep.

But to my relief they aren’t too damaged. Just one runnel of water on the top path; and the rest is intact. Poor little seeds. Either this will give them a mighty boost of germination or they will be washed so far down the sand bed they won’t make it back up. But this is nature, and rain is perfectly fine. Just wish it was a gentle sprinkle and not a stormy gush.

The birds are going mad in the trees mind you. And despite the rain and howling storm everything seems fine in the potting shed. The aubergines are so top heavy with growth they would have been battered to shreds outdoors. Dilemna about whether to plant now or leave them in the safety of the cold frame for another week. I shall have breakfast and ponder. Meanwhile, distract yourselves with pictures of the cherry blossoms. It’s what we admire out of our kitchen window.

Oh go on, there are dozens more as they are so photogenic: and other flowers and blossoms aren’t out just yet. Here are the ones down by the front drive, and here are the small patch below the pool.

They are certainly more fetching that the very late birch tree nearby, and the worryingly late mulberry. We are in that month of wondering whether or not the tree is dead.

I am missing two days here. Goodness only knows what I did wrong with my notes and dates. But I shall have to rely on the photographs that don’t match the text already posted. Quinces anyone?

They are looking rather lush right now; so too the mirabelle plums up near the potting shed. We don’t expect any fruit from them this year as they produced so well last summer. And they are too high up for me to try and effect any artificial control on the crop. June drop is just that.

I remember now. I had to mow the orchard first thing in the morning so that the new building site could be neatly prepared. Bernard is actually a tidy worker, but I didn’t want a lot of tussocks forming in this now beautiful orchard grass. They are going to be working at the far end (beyond the apple trees) to link up the lower terrace to the pool level. So I whipped out the mower and in no time at all reduced the jungle to lawn. Such juicy grass.

I did a spot of mowing of the east garden lawn as well. That’s the curse of the lawnmower, so addictive. I don’t know if we are going to have all the lawns as neat as last year. So as an experiment, I have done a few paths in the east lawn to see how it develops. The area around the figs is quite clear, but the end part of the lawn – a little visited site – is going to revert to its normal jungly self.

It will probably become a deer track through the grass; as it is where the animals break out of the forest and make their way to the fig trees and the lower terraces.

And here are some close ups of the plants in the shade garden: the lupins are romping, and the thalictrum Elin are up. Even the lilies are showing the benefits of a good soaking of rain. I just hope I have enough for the house as well as plants for the garden. Hopefully I can get the flower garden (the cutting patch) sorted so that house flowers wont detract from the garden scheme.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a planted bank. The Pennisetums are in and are so unphotogenic that I didn’t even bother trying. And I must admit to have shouted hoo-effing-ray when the last plant was done.

But the little bit of the flat part of this garden is worth a few in progress shots. Here is the wildflower ‘meadow’ that flows on from the grasses. And yes, the designer in you is probably thinking, hah, you ran out of grasses to complete the whole effect. And you are right. I am about fifty plants short. But that will have to wait for next year when the plants bulk out and can be divided. I just don’t have the bank account to launch into yet more mass plantings right now.

But the wildflower seeds (from Pictorial Meadows again) are going to be put to good use.  The weeds were already well established, so they had to be dug up and composted (ie chucked over the fence). Then there was a deeper weeding of the brambles that lurked.

Finally once I had raked and hidden the worst of the chestnut burrs well under the level of the soil, I needed to cover the entire bed in sand. I had stockpiled a lot of sand from the old building work of the wall. And luckily it looked as though it had been placed at the end of the pool garden on purpose. Why, just a mere fifty feet away from the wildflower bed.  It was sheer blind luck, but I was grateful. So while Bernard and JB spent an hour hauling sand from the top supply near the road and carried it by wheelbarrow all the way to the bottom of the property near the pool shed, I was doing the same. But without a wheelbarrow. I did it by the bucketful and gave up counting when I neared thirty trips. Tedious beyond belief, but at least it didn’t strain the back. Just the brain.

And until the seeds germinate it is going to stay looking like a giant sandpit.

As I was trudging I had an idea about another bit of landscaping that needs to be done. I called it the missing link. It is the part of the garden that separates the new lawn of the ‘piano’ and the wild track that skirts the lower swimming pool lawn.

Sorry it’s so hard to picture, but once I collect all the little stones that have settled here, I can sow it with grass seed and make a complete circuit of the lawnmower later in the spring.

Such a relief to finish with this pool garden chore. Now I can concentrate on the rest of the flower gardens up above the pool. And just water and weed like mad on this part of the bank.  I walked up past the pool and then towards the vegetable bed. Pausing only to admire the first little rock garden area that was the very first planted up. Looking quite fetching, the verbenas are up and the stipas are perky, and it’s just crying out for a few poppies and Echinacea plants later in June.