Grassy knoll
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 cavollo nero, purple sprouting broccoli, Swiss chard, coriander, beetroot bolthardy, spinach all pricked out and potted on. Lovely.