Lavender pruning season

I have a lovely early morning routine.

Up at a time before the alarm. Bathroom, open the front door, stand well back for the cat as she charges in. Food bowl for her, iPad for me.

Then I retreat to the daybed in my office to log on and start reading news. And after a few minutes she races in and leaps on the blanket to join me.

We have a fantastic session where she acts as a water bottle and snuggles in. And I find out the woes of the world and start the day informed.

This morning however the Creature launched from the floor and managed to pivot mid air and land on the chair beside me with a look of utter disdain.

The culprit? My lavender essential oil I had slathered onto all the mite bites.

It is way too strong. But oddly effective for insect itches. And I love how it is sold in pharmacies, right alongside the chemical concoctions normally peddled for bites.

I can only use it in the mornings however, as the reek is too pernicious even for me trying to sleep at night.

Poor cat. She had to put up with not just lavende en aspic but also all my woollens giving off the pong.

She wisely retreated to a basket far from the source of her woes.

It’s lavender pruning time.

Here are some of the shrubs in the height of summer when they do their thing.

Flowers for me. Pollen for the insects. But by October, even though there are still flowers on the stalks, the butterflies and bees are quiescent.

Time to cut back.

But before I explain I want to send a message to those of you who only see static pictures of the lavender in magazines and online. These perfect plants rarely stay ‘perfect’ for long. They grow. They outgrow. They look manky. They die. Or else they look so manky you want or need to replace. Or want to die.

You are not a bad gardener. These are just tricky shrubs.

Here are some action shots of just a few years in the life of the lavenders in one garden bed on this farm.

There are not that many shrubs that will pump out so much growth in a season.

I planted them one metre apart which looked crazy in the first year.

But by year three…

Perfection.

But you all know that this snapshot is not real life forever. How do you prune something where you are exhorted not to cut back into old wood? This shrub will make ‘old wood’ so fast each season that you have this in year four..

Sagging like a fat belly on a Newcastle United football fan in the stands.

You can’t win.

But don’t despair. You just have to accept that of all the Mediterranean shrubs this one might not become your favourite. I took cuttings from this variety (I think Lavender x Grosso – the name gives it away, don’t you think?) and planted up an edge of the Dry Garden with them a few years ago. (Let me rummage.)

So they are easy from cuttings. And you will have a hedge. And a headache a few years along the line.

So get to love the secateurs and hedge trimmers and the whiff of lavender while you work.

I prune twice. Now at the end of the season. And I will shape again in spring before they launch into growth.

I haven’t pruned so hard that I hit that dreaded dead wood.

This is the cut where I work fast (there are a lot to prune).

In spring I will cut with more precision. Back even further than right now. But for that you need secateurs and a steady hand.

Rake the lot. A tedious job. And vow to choose better shrubs in one’s next gardening life.