Seventeen beds

That makes me sound like a boutique hotel. But in fact it is the tally of raised beds I have created in the potager.

That’s 34 logs of chestnut cut down and hauled out of the forest. And seventeen paths dug.  It still looks like a railway siding. Or a lumberjack’s yard.  But come spring and weeds and plants it ought to look less stark.

I’m quite pleased with curve I managed to get on the edge of the potager path; a wonky tree suited perfectly.  But it was a lot of jig saw work. And my arms are aching.  But I am pleased I managed to get the job done before March.

And first up I managed to finish the cold frame.  I have only placed the sides of the frame, rather than hammering in any stakes.  I don’t want to pierce the weedproof fabric and let in any weeds.

But I have filled it full of winter grees, young agapanthus, small trees that are too young to be planted in the hedge; and cuttings.  It’s going to be a fun experiment to see how hot the cold frame gets in the sun, and whether the plants dry out too much.

As a security, I have left half the winter greens in pots in the potting shed and under a fleece.  We have some cold weather coming. Yet again.

But as today was another blazing sunshine and balmy 10C I decided to water all the new trees.  That’s one very long hose hauled all about the courtyard and up into the top of the road.

Oaks, hornbeams, roses, euonymous, everything had a drenching.  And I even trudged down with buckets of water to make sure all the new apple trees in the orchard are happy.  They can get thirsty in a cold winter as the roots don’t get enough moisture.

Oh, and I didn’t forget my new kiwai either.  And it won the prize of a bucket of home made compost.  I didn’t make time to retrieve any more from the huge pile at the end of the duck pond. It’s not that easy to extract as it’s at the very bottom of lots of sticks and debris

Maybe tomorrow.

Artur followed the hose the entire time and had a lovely day directing traffic. Er, that traffic is me.  He was a perfect feline companion until he found the netting that I dumped onto a bench on the potting shed table. And promptly claimed it for his own. I swear he didn’t move for hours, purring loudly whenever I came close.