Too exciting. I have decided to put away the strimmer and mower for a day and just concentrate on potting and planting.
And watering. The forecast is for a bit more rain. Well, bits of rain over the next week. So I have decided to have a go at emtpying the water barrels by watering the hedge. The water barrels around the potting shed (or I should say Artur’s playhouse) collect the runoff from the roof.
So with Artur glaring at me from inside the studio because I was disturbing his morning nap, I plodded back and forth giving each well weeded plant a drink. The hedge looks lovely – with the marjoram in between. It will probably need another serious weeding in about a month, but for now it’s a treat.
I can never managed to photograph what I call the terrace bank, but I’m very pleased with the verdant growth. That’s the magic of gardening: one year it’s brambles and weeds. And two years later it is landscaped and even has a semblance of design. The calamagrostis Karl Foersters are fat and happy.
And in between are all the seed sown clary sage, cornflowers, nigella and so many other things I just can’t remember. It is the sort of dumping ground for things I have sown and can’t quite decide where to place. I also am being cautious about the self sowers. I don’t fancy these huge clary sages all over the vegetable beds, but up here they are fine. They are always on the edge of survival as it’s so dry.
Also here are plants from friends: Andrew’s mighty teasel which is now into flower, his snap dragons, Teo’s roses and philadelphis, Leslie’s clary sage, marjoram and lychnis. And all my seed sown eragrostis. And plants which I have actually bought: valerian, phlox, sedums.
Maybe I need to stand way up in the forest and take a shot. Or climb onto the roof and look down on the garden. But I couldn’t do that, it would wake Artur up.