Woke up this morning and realised that I just couldn’t face the bank of grasses; even though there were only 37 to go. So instead I pretended I would just do a few other chores before I get started. So I potted up heaps of sunflowers for Andrew. Tidied pots. Then went out and planted a dozen more broad beans which were bursting out of their temporary homes.

That of course involved sorting out the entire bean and pea section of the potager. And before I knew it, I had fourteen large canes up and tied, sweet peas attached, a pea structure built, and another one, and goodness look at the time; too late to start the grasses I think I will go in for lunch.

And then with 5mm of rain, why, couldn’t get any fragile planting work done now. So I cleared away (with help) the huge unsightly log pile that had built up from excess bits of the step building. Laid down yet more weedproof fabric on the newly weeded spot behind the potting shed. And that was the day. Grasses tomorrow, promise.

I am writing this a day later and can still feel the aches and twinges and bits that hurt. And ooh look, bramble scratches all over my wrists and arms. Gardening – such an adventure.  My tally yesterday was 72. So only 37 to go. But quite a journey to get the grasses in. I opted for long rows of grasses to try and get things as symmetrical as poss. So that meant start at the top and measure up, taking care not to touch the wall which is a bit fragile. Then plod back down via a sliding scree run of brambles and stones to the supply of grasses. Soak them in buckets of water and gingerly climb back up. I am cleaning like mad – just pushing the mess further down the slope and trying not to think of all the work it will take to get this mess off the mountain.  In my mind I can see the Eden Project bank of lavenders (I will rummage and see if I kept the pin up) that are perfect, immaculate and an inspiration.  Mine is much much scruffier.  But once the last 37 go in I will have a look and see.

Here they are, and don’t they just make you gurn with envy?

Earlier in the day I put off the bank work by doing a spot of watering. This hose lark is such a novelty and the water is flowing so mightily that I did all the garden where the hose could reach. And that took about an hour of frolicking in the sun and spring chorus.  The only tricky bit is how stiff and unwieldy the giant hose is. It looked a bit like a St Vitus dance demonstration as I wrestled with the beast trying to get it to turn a corner up on the road. In the end I just stuck it up onto the vegetable bed and went to have a look at the rhubarb.

Growing well, thank you (and I have still neglected to photograph it). And I even discovered a good few feet of forgotten potato tubers under the black plastic. I wondered what was pushing up the plastic and making walking difficult near the raspberry beds. I was concerned that it was a few rogue raspberry bushes that would tear the protective fabric. But instead it was a positive plethora of potatoes. Charlottes if I am not mistaken. I fetched the fork and started work, and had a few kilos of tubers up before I had to remind myself that this was not the task intended today. Stop putting it off and get down to that future grassy knoll.

Rain finally stopped play (hah). And it was the perfect gentle and persistent stuff. First rain in a week and it flowed all afternoon. If I pop out to the rain gauge I can take my first reading. 3mm. That’s not much: but it is all useful and it was gentle.  Once I had taken painkillers, lain prone on the floor in front of the fire, taken a long shower and had a cup of tea and cake I almost felt human.

And what do humans do in the afternoon when rain stops play? Whey they skulk in their potting shed and pot on plants.

Rudbeckia Green Wizard, Savoy cabbage, Kale cavallo nero, purple sprouting broccoli, Swiss chard, coriander, beetroot bolthardy, spinach all pricked out and potted on. Lovely.

Forty two. Not the world’s biggest haul of grasses planted on the bank but at least I have made a start. This is the hardest gardening I have done. The distances were already measured, so you could say that all I needed to do was put the little pennisetum Hamelin’s in. But there are roots and brambles and dead chestnut burrs and leaves in the way. And all on a slope. There were a few times when I actually decided to keep the long bramble strands in place as they were the only thing to hold on to when I crept up the bank. I placed some of the excess boards along the planted rows just to hold the soil if we get a downpour over the next few weeks. Please grow little grasses, you are all that is going to save us from massive erosion.

Tomorrow I will do more. Promise.  And to finish the day (dinner party tonight) I placed little crash barriers up along the edges of the mini meadows. This will hopefully slow the wildflower seeds from oozing over the edge and ending up on the terrace below. There is no such thing as static planting here. One big downpour (you get the theme) and we won’t have a design.  Eventually I will replace these boring planks with thin chestnut poles to make the look more rustic.  I’m surprised that the sand hasn’t been disturbed by local wildlife (and Arthur the neighbour’s cat) but it’s early days.

Oh yes, and I put more ornamental grasses in the future gravel garden in the courtyard. There is one stipa gigantea in already. And now to keep it company there are two Miscanthus sinensis and a Calamagrostis Karl Foerster.

D-day: the couriers have promised to get my mighty order of Plantagenet plants up to the farm by this afternoon. But they need to be guided in when they get close. So, as the range of the telephone only reaches the courtyard, I decided to do the furthest parts of the chores first and then mooch about the house waiting for the call in the afternoon.

I sowed two boxes of wildflower mix in the bank below the pool, and then bent down on hand and knees, shears, scissors and secateurs and tidied all the lawn edges. My, we do have a lush lawn. And the edges have been neglected. If the lawn mower doesn’t get them they are allowed to run a bit wild. So I had a mighty crop of clippings by the time I had worked my way around.

Next up was a first go at all the connectors. With a lot of help I am connected to the top potager and the water tank. But I wanted the hose to run down to the terraces below the road near the potting shed. Previous owners obviously did the same thing for their chickens. But the hose was buried under the road and it took a bit of digging to unearth the end. It was chock full of dirt. But I thumped it with a long metal rod curtesy of the wall-building detritus and even managed to get a good flow through the entire length of pipe. It was a good thing our neighbour Jean Daniel wasn’t driving by at the time – he would have found pipes snaking all over the road. The black long hose pipe is very stiff and unwieldy but we have scads of the stuff and if I managed to connect A to B then bingo – a watering system.

And it worked! Didn’t leap up and down for joy – didn’t want to scare the birds. But this means that just using the overflow from our spring I have now joined the ranks of gardeners who spend their waking hours ‘just popping out to move the hose’. Bliss.

Following this mighty engineering triumph I went in for a strong cup of tea and a few hours of indoor chores to wait for the courier’s call. But blow me – he rang at 1130am and said he was at the end of our street. Well, in Ardeche terms he was about half an hour away and needed directions.  So much for a tidy house, back out I went to wait for him by the gate.

And here it is. All in perfect order and all looking very healthy

150 PENNISETUM alopecuroides Hameln
9 ASTER frikartii Wunder von staffa
5 FILIPENDULA rubra Venusta
7 CALAMAGROSTIS x acutiflora Karl foerster
2 EUPATORIUM maculatum Atropurpureum
3 RODGERSIA pinnata Superba
7 ANGELICA Vicar’s mead
9 MISCANTHUS sinensis Gracillimus

I watered them well with my new watering system, then set about setting them about. One of the eupatoriums was destined immediately for the planting scheme in the terrace bed. I was one short so the lack of symmetry was going to kill me if they all grew up. But that was rectified. And then I added a few plants to a new scheme near the steps: one eupatorium, one calamagrostis Karl foerster, three miscanthus Gracillimus and then a few Angelica Vicar’s mead. I thought that I would get something fun from them while I was waiting for the grasses to bulk out and shoot up. We shall see. It’s a rather rushed bed and needs more work. And it needs a long trunk of chestnut tree just like the ones I have now to complete the picture. But that will have to wait until June when Nicolas promises to return (note the sound of a frustrated gardener holding her breath).

I also planted Angelicas around the new Molinea that Andrew gave us near the entrance to the Calabert. I don’t want one lonely grass. And there is plenty of room there. Just had to saw some huge ivy roots first. And there is an elderflower tree in there too. I think I have finally managed to kill it. If it was left unchecked it would have shifted the entire barn with its mighty roots.  But I will be vigilent as ever. Shame the leaves are so vile and pungent. I hate the smell on my gloves after I have ripped them off the trunk.

Being a tad inattentive I managed to accidentally (and lovingly) plant the Filipendula rubra Venustas in this place by mistake. There is only one label for the whole grouping of plants. So naturally I managed to pot up the ones the wrong way round. Luckily I noticed rather fast and didn’t end up with a shade-loving beast baking in the full glare of the courtyard gravel garden.  The filipendulas are going to be placed around the water butts behind the potting shed. With luck and water and a bit more sun than this area received last year they may grow up and hide the vivid blue of the butts. The mighty chestnut tree has been well pruned.

The asters and the one calamagrostis went into the lilac bed: which now is complete. Can’t wait for that to show more life. I think I was going to add more rodgersias there – but now I think they can fit up in the shade garden instead. Ah the anxieties of so many plants.

And the grasses I hear you say: what about those one hundred and fifty mighty pennisetums you have neglected to mention? All this faffing about with ones and twos. What about the job? Yes. True. I have Friday and Saturday to get the beasts in. Not exactly dreading it; but it is going to take all my skills to plant them straight, weed out the dying bramble roots, not fall in the pool, and make a good stab at landscaping.

Here is a picture of the small wisteria plant growing on the south side of the house. It is being kept very small as there is no way it is going to be permitted to spread over the house. Strimming rather too vigorously nearby helps to keep it in check. And it is perfect as a foil to the fact that the next two paragraphs are photo free. I forgot to take my camera up to the top potager to snap the asparagus and rhubarb. Sorry. Have some woodland violets as well. They are carpeting the lower terraces right now.

Confession time: I have partaken of the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden. Well, in this case the forbidden asparagus tip in the top vegetable bed. We have one more year at least before the asparagus is for us. Right now they are meant to grow unheeded of a knife and put down yet more roots and growth. But I carelessly knocked the top off one as I was moving a hose. And there it sat on the black plastic – taunting me – with its crispness and perfect shape. Sorry plant. This one’s for me. It tasted divine. All crunchy and sweet and pungent.  Gone in about a second.

I also found another surprise thanks to the black plastic that so unattractively covers so much of this bed. I inadvertantly forced some rhubarb. I had forgotten that I had planted three crowns of the veg – two I have been watering and watching and plotting about. But then when I was giving the cranberries a good watering I lifted the plastic nearby and found some perfectly pink forced rhubarb underneath. Thin and straggly, but definitely rhubarbesque.  Down they came for the kitchen. I think I will roast them with pork.

We had a breakthrough hose moment this morning: up at Vernoux’s garden centre we found the same hose connectors I bought in London; but these ones have 25mm and 20mm attachments. Different sized hoses that talk to each other. Amazing. Well, I know. It’s pathetic how little I know. But it solves the problem of how I was going to join one fat hose with one thin one. Promise not to go on and on about the water supply. I’m starting to sound like Jean de Florette.

But we did have great fun unearthing one hundred metres of black hose from the brambles on the far eastern edge of our property. The hose must have once gone down to the vineyard when the vines were getting established. And about seven years of brambles had anchored the hose in place ever since. So with real archeology skills and a lot of muscle up it came. Can’t wait to get it back to the garden up the top and put it to use.

Before then there was the small matter of pruning the entire vineyard. Gad that’s tedious. And a bit late. Some of the vines bled a bit which had me anxious. But anxiety is soon replaced by eye rolling fatigue as you work and work and work your way up the rows. The mistake one makes is to look at all you have done and think how clever you are. And then to cast your gaze east and see that you still have eleven rows to go.  It took hours. And three trips up to the house to dump the cuttings for the chipper, dose up on water and chocolate and plod back down. At least I got to admire the wildflowers in the lower terraces en route.

Once the sticks have been converted to mulch I will feel better. And my wrist may ache less. Where’s that beer?

Well, in from the first day of full gardening: and we are now the proud owners of two very thin strips of meadow. Dug over, raked, smothered in sand, and sown. Not a brilliant picture; must do better.

Then looking at my mighty list of Chores to Achieve I went out and threw a handful of growmore around all the fruit trees. It’s a long walk. Lovely to see them all safely through the winter and even in blossom. Pics of them look dreadful as they are so caged.

Also threw some growmore at the plants in the lilac bed. It’s a hive of activity in there, and I haven’t even planted out the asters. Can’t wait to see what comes up. And the Clematis are happy under the vines in the strawberry bed. They had a bit of a tough year last year getting accidently weeded. But now they are the stronger for it. Just look at that growth. I think it’s Clematis Miss Freckles, a good do-er. So we shall see if it actually climbs up and competes with the grapes.

Planted more verbena bonariensis in the border near the vegetable garden. At first glance I thought all last year’s ones were dead. They were certainly put through their paces with the endless snow and cold. But there are signs of life. And I do have about twenty more in the potting shed (cuttings) that are putting on some growth to add later.

As was my habit – I rootled about the seedlings mid morning with a cup of tea and found that the greyhound cabbages were bursting and ready to prick out and pot on. One month is all it took in the cold weather to get them up and running. And I have potted them into the next size up. Blow me if there aren’t another whole tray of the wretched things germinating. I don’t want to repeat the experience of last year when I was drowning in brassicas. And believe me, when you have just come in from a solid hour of cutting back the kale, and picking armfuls of purple sprouting broccoli in April, you will know that I had too many.

But after about twenty five greyhound pots I realised that this is madness: time to be outdoors as the weather is threatening later in the week. And I love being in my shed when it’s hammering down outside and I have seeds to sow and plants to prick out.

So armed with fork, new whizz compost bag and kneelers I set about making the little wildflower meadows next to the barn. This is the path that is just a sea of weeds in summer. And a complete waste of space. I had first thought to just sow grass seed: but no. That would mean hauling the lawnmower over the gravel courtyard each week, and grass is dull. So step up Pictorial Meadows perennial mixture ‘purple haze’ which was a lovely birthday present. A tiny packet of 20 grams of just wild flowers. But that was enough to do both sides of the barn.   As the blurb says: A colour-themed mixture of predominantly purple and blue, with billows of white for contrast. Main species include Columbine, Greater Knapweed, Field Scabious, Wild Carrot, Hedge Bedstraw, Meadow Clary, Perennial Cornflower, Perennial Flax, Oxe-eye Daisy, Purple Loosetrife, Purple Coneflower, Prairie Aster, Joe Pye Weed.

Twas laborious getting out the weeds, raking and such. But once the sand was down (odd, but that’s how the best stuff gets sown without competetion from weeds) it looked quite fun.  Can’t wait for things to pop up. And believe me, if their Joe Pye Weed comes up before the ones I have sown indoors in perfect conditions I will be cross.

Don’t mention the cleome. Still not up. I never succeed with that wretched seed.  And am haunted by pictures of it everywhere – positively hedge like in it’s blanket border of a potager approach, or up against some impossibly pretty provencal farm house. I managed just three plants last year, and they were the pink ones. I do prefer the white. But one must be patient and hope for the best.

Once the major work was done I started on a new project: a planting scheme for the bank near the chestnut steps. It’s to be a combination of filipendula rubra, joe pye weed (if it germinates), calamagrostis Karl Foerster plus a few other grasses in the front; probably miscanthus sinensis Gracillimus. Plus stipas. I had thought of doing pennisetums. But they have all gone into the maw of the bank which sucked up 51 of them last month and I can’t even see the effect they have made. Green growth on a few of them thank goodness. But I should have held some back for this new bit. But the Gracillimuses should do well. I just had rather planned on a slightly purplish theme. If they thrive I will repeat them further along the bank. This picture will locate the fourth terrace bank in the whole picture. Actually what I need is an aerial view of the farm so everything can be viewed in context.

And so to the house: euphorbias and lovely, lively purple wildflowers that I found down near the lower terraces on my walk to the apple trees. They are honesty of course, a plant name I was completely ignorant of and now see everywhere (thank you Andrew.) And once the seed pods set, they will be spirited down to Les Vans to be made into wreaths.

Then, just as a light sprinkle of rain helped my newly sown beds along, out came the lawn mower for its first of the year job. The lawn and the approach along the front of the house have had their two cuts. Hurrah.

To finish I worked on the cabbage, sowed grass seed and built up a part of the lawn that had tried to join the lower terrace after a heavy shower of rain the month before.  Can’t wait for tomorrow; my list of chores is even longer than today.