Oh yes, just when you thought it was safe to return to this blog for the long-hoped for spring pictures… you get mulch. Again.
Sorry about that.
We drove up late Wednesday night and I had that childish yearning for the sight of a huge pile of chipped branches sitting on the tarp at the turnoff from the main road.
It was dark. I was peering. But as we made the steep turn up to our road all I saw was the forlorn tarp all rolled up and, frankly, huddling.
Sigh. I was disappointed. I had spent too many minutes on the journey out planning just where the next batch was to go.
Oh well, mulch work loss is seed sowing gain. I consoled. Gardeners are inured to setbacks.
And then. And then.
I woke absurdly early, took a lap around the garden and came across this.
That was my gardening day sorted. Out came all the mulch clothes (fleecy tops with little bits of clinging matter that I cannot pick off), out came the bags.
And I was off.
Pause for pictures.
And then a thick mulch around the raspberries in the lower potager, a first mulch of the hornbeams at the top hedge.
Even the mole damage on the already mulched paths in the shade garden didn’t ruin my day.
This is inevitable in the garden. Some animal will step in and ruin your perfect arrangements.
And it is also a salutary lesson in never believing what you see in garden books and magazines.
By the late afternoon I was down to my last sack.
Oh well. Of course I could do with more. I would love to mulch the entire orchard bank. And in front of the potting shed. I managed a thick path of lovely weed suppressing mulch down the side.
But it’s time to put away all greedy yearnings. I have had four deliveries of unlooked for marvellous garden help.
I know I will go up to Vernoux and see if I can find the depot and dig for more. Those Ikea bags will probably be a permanent fixture in the car every market day.
Right now I need to get on with the late, late, oh I’m late seed sowing.
And you can all get back to admiring green things at last.