for lefties too stubborn to quit
So, how is this side of life going? Some almost ecstatic reports on the radio during the last week on the re-opening of garden centres. Anyone here in the queues?
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The Cedar Lounge Revolution
I will soak some early peas this evening and sow two short rows tomorrow evening.
But the real work is resuming a major project of clearing builder’s rubble not too far under the soil surface (and ordering in some new top soil to bring the level back up to what it is at the moment). I think the first strip of that will keep me occupied for the summer, and then in the winter I can put in some structural plants there (aka a pair of trees to be splayed on the wall) and next year clear the middle strip of rubble, and the rest of the garden the following year.
I went down the back of the garden at lunch time, and the scent of the neighbour’s wonderfully abundant roses bushes was delightful.
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An old joke. Jewish, I’m told.
Q: How do you make God laugh?
A: Tell him your plans.
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The neighbour is 95. She is great. Worked in a local enterprise. We told her we were going to Vietnam to visit the daughter a couple of years back. She said: “What’s the name of the fellah that was in charge there”. We said “Do you mean Ho Chi Minh”. “That’s him” says she, “that was what they used to call me when I was in Smurfits. I was a union woman. ITGWU.” Top lady.
Anyway she has a massive thorny pyracanthus at the front door. I’ve taken to trimming it this last few years to keep it under control. It’s just coming out in a mass of white blooms now and will be a mass of red berries in the winter, please God. So I’m trimming the green growth out with a secaturs at the mo, instead of going at it with the electric yoke. To keep the flowers and the berries.
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We’ve one of those at the gate. I fecking hate it, the number of times I’ve been scratched and stabbed by it over the years. We did have two, one each side of the gate, but after a particularly enthusiastic pruning (not by myself) it never recovered and defeat was thankfully declared last summer and I was permitted to remove it. There’s a slip off the honeysuckle growing there now, a far more benign plant altogether. And fair play to your neighbour Ho, and to yourself for being neighbourly.
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Whatever about it being a bad year in many ways it’s been a great year so far in the garden. I wonder with the lack of rain that we’ve had will there be hosepipe bans coming into play in Dublin? Fortunately we’re on a well out here so we won’t need to worry about that, unless the well runs dry of course. Now as I’ve admitted before, I’m not the gardener in the house, I just mow the grass and do manual labour if asked, but the garden is doing very well at the moment. The small bit of rain last weekend certainly helped. The young lad is finished his college exams now so he’s tasked with the lawn mowing this afternoon, which also helps. So to the vegetables: the spuds are coming along nicely, three short rows of 3m each, enough to keep us in salad potatoes for a while; the lettuce is running away with itself and no matter how much egg salad we have for lunch every day we’re definitely falling behind there; the scallions are about to flower, although we’re getting through those with the egg salad too; we’ve peas planted but they’re still tiny, likewise cucumber, and the strawberries haven’t come on much yet, possibly because they were moved in the spring; the beetroots are growing away but early days yet. That’s about it, apart from the rhubarb which needs a fair bit of watering to keep it going. Then there’s the flowers and shrubs, as ever the pride and joy of herself. A new addition to the flower bed this year is a cowslip which was liberated from the hedgerow down the road, so fingers crossed that will self-seed for next year. The clematis in the yard is doing well too, lovely big purple flowers on it. Lovely to sit out in the yard of a weekend evening with a beer, listening to the bees humming in the laburnum, amidst all that well tended flora. Fair play to herself.
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The mention of Clematis reminds me of when my Mother had one in a pot on the doorstep, my aunt called in and at the top of her voice for the whole road to hear she said “I love the Clitoris on your doorstep Clodagh!”
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I get where she was coming from (no pun intended!) because for the life of me I can never remember what it’s called. I keep referring to it as wisteria, which I’m told is nothing at all like clematis, but it’s the name in my head for it.
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Rhubarb is most copious; the bush beans I put in the ground in October came up nicely and I’m eating them now; pumpkins and courgettes planted out; leek seedlings doing nicely; peas coming up well, as are the newly planted beans (they got through the frost); the pond I dug for the wildlife a month ago has dried up entirely; first globe artichokes now ready for picking; raspberries shooting up; first strawberries ripening.
One trick I tried and pass on to those who might want it: don’t lift scallions, just cut them off near the bottom and they’ll grow back just lovely.
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