Happy reminders that we do have lots of utterly beautiful flowers - at this time of year floral abundance is less obvious!
Many stunning pictures on:
http://www.lovemydress.net/blog/2016/02/english-country-garden-wedding-elegance.html#more-410998
Sunday, 28 February 2016
Friday, 19 February 2016
Weeding weather
Winter 2015/16 has gone on too long. I
believe we have had about 5 days in three months when it hasn’t rained or blown
a gale. My gardens are at sea level on heavy Dorset clay, so there is nowhere
for the water to drain and it sits, and sits, and sits. Usually I have been
able to work the beds and get them ready during the winter for spring sowing,
or at least to mulch the perennial areas. This year even mulching has been
difficult as the wheelbarrows sink into the grass leaving muddy ruts, and
collecting the composts has been tricky for a ratphobic as even the rotted
leafmould heaps are full of rodents who have been using them for warm and dry
bed and breakfast accommodation. The little devils have also taken up residence
in the raised and covered ranunculus beds, enjoying the crumbly soil and warm
dry plastic roofing.
I know it will all come right, things will
eventually dry out because they have to, seeds will eventually get into the
ground to sprout grow and bloom, and it is not worry about that that makes me
gloomy, but the lack of opportunity to get out there and weed. I love weeding,
for me it might even be the most satisfying bit of gardening – which probably
sounds bizarre when I consider the thousands of beautiful flowers I grow, the
bountiful harvests of home grown blooms, the scents, colours, textures,
shapes…. I only get to know the flowers through weeding, only by working among
them can I see what’s going on, check their health, their state of growth, see
what unexpected treasures are springing up among those that are eagerly
anticipated.
I weed most beds on hands and knees, bum up
and head down. I may approach a weedy patch reluctantly but within minutes I am
right in there, enjoying the challenge of teasing out the miscreants and
freeing the wanted plants from the greedy little interlopers. There is such
satisfaction in managing to winkle out some little buttercups from a just
shooting astrantia without damaging any of the new growth, or from a patch of
Trollius or Maids of Kent. I almost feel joy when I successfully unearth trails
of couchgrass from where they are happily disguised in patches of small iris or
tiny blue flowered Sisyrinchium. I become obsessive about couch, carefully
trying to trace each length back to its roots, and I admit that I lay out
particularly long lengths and have been known to measure them – my record still
standing at over 17 feet from my previous garden! I obviously fail to clear it
in some areas as every year considerable time is spent carefully removing
lengths from large clumps of pinks, with a necessarily delicate touch and a
very sharp pointed copper trowel.
That is another point of obsession, the
right tool for the job. For handwork I will only use the copper trowel, it fits
my hand perfectly, is balanced just right, and the blade is sharp if you need
it to be and slices through ground with ease in any condition. It will also
slice through fingers when weeding too quickly in well crumbled soil but apart
from that caveat it is the perfect tool. I also have a hand fork from the same
stable, and a scratcher, but in practice I all but never use them and weeding
is all about me and my trowel. And my waterproof trousers, the other essential
– I don’t choose good thick padded trousers but keep several pairs of thinner
ones that are easily hosed down then hurled into the washing machine and dry in
no time. I think I’ve had two pairs for at least eight years and they are still
hole free.
I’ve tried all manner of kneeling pads,
those attached to the knee and freeform, but I find them universally annoying
and would rather have dirty knees or trousers in summer, or go for waterproofs
at other times.
In one of the annual beds the first job of
the year is always removing seedlings of a decorative little grass called
Frosted Explosion. Its seedheads are delicate ephemeral fluffy wands that add a
summer fairy’s touch to bridal bouquets, but the name gives it away, if not
picked in time these seed heads disperse in an explosive way to colonise
whatever ground they land upon. Why oh why don’t all the annuals that I want to
self seed enjoy the same productive habit? Quaking grass is another spreading weed
in this garden, and I can spend hours happily attempting to remove all traces
from a bed only to find more seedlings appearing a few weeks later. I don’t
mind either of these grasses, and I do indeed use them, but they do try to
colonise ground that really should be home to others.
Bindweed is less benign and refuses to disappear
from some beds but it also presents a very satisfactory weeding experience, the
challenge of detaching those tiny young shoots that so often start in the
centre of established shrubs and perennials, the joy of unearthing a long
multi-rooted length. It has taken me three years to get on top of bindweed, and
I know there will be more this year. It doesn’t appear in the first flush but
waits to take you by surprise when you think the bed is weed free, I shall be
watching!
This winter there have been so few weeding
days. Usually a good clear up means there shouldn’t be much to do over the
winter but this year the rains came too early before all was cleared, and it
has been so mild that growth has continued so there will be a huge amount of
necessary weeding action once the weather does finally clear. The perennial
field beds are filled with giant buttercups that need to come out and will take
more serious attack than a trowel offers, but to come at them with a border
fork will do no good to the soil where standing water scarcely disappears before
the next downpour. Earlier this week beautiful frosts gave way to a couple of
clear days but the wet ground was first frozen then cold cloddy and sticky, I
could only manage a couple of hours otherwise I would have done more harm than
good on ground that will turn into a hard crust when the rain stops.
Until the ground improves, I wait, but I am
impatient now. After a long mild spell it has been colder this week so does not
feel the right time to start sowing under cover. I sense a huge rush coming on
in a few weeks, but somehow I have to bide my time till then, weeding must
wait, and so must I.
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