The garden is pretty full, but this month I've felled the birch and added an apple tree, and added semi evergreen honeysuckle Lonicera japonica (West facing bed near cabin), clematis Dorothy Walton (west facing bed near compost bin). I've pulled up loads of forget-me-nots, and resorted to some chemical (toxic) slug pellets.
Monday, 25 April 2011
clematis dorothy walton - planted today
clematis Dorothy Walton (group three, hard prune after first sign of growth
Initial pruning and training
If young clematis plants are left unpruned they often produce very long single stems with the flowers produced only at the very top.
Unless the plant already has three or four healthy stems growing from the base, all newly planted clematis should be pruned back hard the first spring after planting. Cut back to just above a strong pair of leaf buds about 30cm (12in) above soil level. This will encourage multiple stems which can be trained in to supports to give a good coverage.
During the spring and summer, tie in new growth, spacing stems evenly on the support.
Pruning established plants
- In February or March, cut back all the old stems to the lowest pair of healthy buds 15-30cm (6-12in) above soil level.
- Small-flowered clematis with attractive seed heads (such as C. ‘Bill MacKenzie’, C. ‘Helios’, C. orientalis, C. tangutica and C. tibetanasubsp. vernayi) can just be thinned out and trimmed back to the main framework of branches, leaving the seedheads to be enjoyed.
If left unpruned, this group will continue growing from where the growth ended the previous season, becoming top heavy, flowering well above eye level, and with a bare base.
If desired, they can be left unpruned to scramble over pergolas where space is not limited.
If desired, they can be left unpruned to scramble over pergolas where space is not limited.
Sunday, 17 April 2011
cordon currants
I am trying to pack in a lot in my mini-allotment. I am working up to a semi-cordoned currant arrangement. Actually, what I'm looking for is a currant hedge. The bushes growing alongside the Greengage need to stay lower than the lowest branches of the fan. Well, it's going to be a fan, at the moment it is an upright with a branch each side at right angles and a couple of stubby attempts at a fan.
Back to the bushes. They are redcurrants, and are already fruiting. It won't be plentiful this year, but I'm working up to a bumper crop next year.
Back to the bushes. They are redcurrants, and are already fruiting. It won't be plentiful this year, but I'm working up to a bumper crop next year.
Friday, 11 March 2011
composting and excavating
My compost bin is part of the fence dividing my 'garden' garden from my 'allotment' garden. In the limited space of a town garden these are the decisions you have to make - compost bins attract slugs and snails, which is not what you want near your tender veg plants. The advantage is that when the material is well rotted, it's near the veg plot. The one metre square bin is split in two, and household and garden waste (no weeds) goes into one side, then the other.
The bin provides a good backdrop to plants on the flowerbed side, and setting some bricks into the soil makes a nice path, favoured by all neighbourhood cats. I hope they enjoy hunting any rats that may be lurking. In fact our most recent ex-cat is enjoying it too, since I had to inter Pepper under the bricks, as other unbricked locations attracted too much attention.
In summer months the compost gives off a mild odour, which is only noticeable when you stand very near it. The nearest you get to it in passing is about a metre, or three feet in old money. Inevitably, it attracts insects to do vital work, but these are kept down by scattering straw over the top of the active compost every few weeks.
Experts talk about well rotted compost being like used tea leaves. This seems very unlikely, when you're chucking slops of this and that into the void, and inhaling that acrid smell. Still, the compost I dug out at the weekend was just like dense, fine used tea leaves. Within the solid tea leaf-y mass were egg shells, wine corks, avocado skins like thin brittle leather and dessicated but unrotted split avocado pips. And teaspoons. No babies have been thrown out with the bathwater so far in this house, but teaspoons are at constant risk. They survive better than the wooden pestle I discovered in the last batch of compost I made, which looks gently scalloped, as though made out of driftwood.
Some of the compost has been dug into a trench, awaiting the French beans. The rest will be used over the summer.
The bin provides a good backdrop to plants on the flowerbed side, and setting some bricks into the soil makes a nice path, favoured by all neighbourhood cats. I hope they enjoy hunting any rats that may be lurking. In fact our most recent ex-cat is enjoying it too, since I had to inter Pepper under the bricks, as other unbricked locations attracted too much attention.
In summer months the compost gives off a mild odour, which is only noticeable when you stand very near it. The nearest you get to it in passing is about a metre, or three feet in old money. Inevitably, it attracts insects to do vital work, but these are kept down by scattering straw over the top of the active compost every few weeks.
Experts talk about well rotted compost being like used tea leaves. This seems very unlikely, when you're chucking slops of this and that into the void, and inhaling that acrid smell. Still, the compost I dug out at the weekend was just like dense, fine used tea leaves. Within the solid tea leaf-y mass were egg shells, wine corks, avocado skins like thin brittle leather and dessicated but unrotted split avocado pips. And teaspoons. No babies have been thrown out with the bathwater so far in this house, but teaspoons are at constant risk. They survive better than the wooden pestle I discovered in the last batch of compost I made, which looks gently scalloped, as though made out of driftwood.
Some of the compost has been dug into a trench, awaiting the French beans. The rest will be used over the summer.
Thursday, 10 March 2011
looking after your lawn
Lawns can become an obsession. Not for me. I have reduced my lawn to around 3mx3m, in a paisley shape, which is just enough for me. It has led my daughter to refer to the garden as a 'show garden', because there are more plants than lawn, which, even at 15 she thinks is unreasonable, even though the only things she now does in the garden is sit. Despite it's reduced size, I neglect my lawn. For those of you who want an ever improving lawn, here are some tips.
Grass needs good drainage, regular mowing and raking, water and some feeding, once a year should be enough.
Pampering your lawn, such as by watering it regularly, will make it more vulnerable when there is any shortage of water.
Get rid of moss by improving drainage and light - rake regularly and aerate once or twice a year. Instructions below. Aerating improves drainage in the lawn, and gives the grass roots more space to grow. Over time, as people walk about your garden, the soil gets packed more and more tightly, and when it is compacted like that, it's harder for water to drain away, and harder for plant roots to get the nutrients they need out of the soil.
Aerating
There are lots of fancy machines for aerating grassed areas, mechanical ones that cost a fortune down to strap on spiked soles, for walking about in. The purpose is to make holes in the soil, to about two inches/five centimetres, then in order to keep the holes open, sand is swept into the holes. Over time the sand will get distributed through the soil, as worms come and go, and the drainage will be improved, even when the holes close, or appear closed.
Horticultural or washed sand is usually used. There are many debates about which kind of sand is best. Horticultural sand is very fine. Sharp sand can be used, although some think it has salt and other minerals in it, which can interfere with the way plants grow. My objection to sharp sand is that if it gets tracked into the house it may stain.
Aerating is usually done once a year, either in the autumn or in the spring. The soil needs to be moist, not wet or dry, for it to be effective.
Grass needs good drainage, regular mowing and raking, water and some feeding, once a year should be enough.
Pampering your lawn, such as by watering it regularly, will make it more vulnerable when there is any shortage of water.
Get rid of moss by improving drainage and light - rake regularly and aerate once or twice a year. Instructions below. Aerating improves drainage in the lawn, and gives the grass roots more space to grow. Over time, as people walk about your garden, the soil gets packed more and more tightly, and when it is compacted like that, it's harder for water to drain away, and harder for plant roots to get the nutrients they need out of the soil.
Aerating
There are lots of fancy machines for aerating grassed areas, mechanical ones that cost a fortune down to strap on spiked soles, for walking about in. The purpose is to make holes in the soil, to about two inches/five centimetres, then in order to keep the holes open, sand is swept into the holes. Over time the sand will get distributed through the soil, as worms come and go, and the drainage will be improved, even when the holes close, or appear closed.
Horticultural or washed sand is usually used. There are many debates about which kind of sand is best. Horticultural sand is very fine. Sharp sand can be used, although some think it has salt and other minerals in it, which can interfere with the way plants grow. My objection to sharp sand is that if it gets tracked into the house it may stain.
Aerating is usually done once a year, either in the autumn or in the spring. The soil needs to be moist, not wet or dry, for it to be effective.
Thursday, 3 March 2011
Broad beans and burying frogs
I planted my first broad beans at dusk. It wasn't a carefully timed thing, tuning in to the phases of the moon, or whatever. I'd forgotten to do it, and noticed the light was going, and since the seeds had got a bit damp from when I left the packet in the rain overnight it seemed urgent.
I carefully read the packet (I'm fully trained) and cleared the bit of the raised beds newly designated broad bean worthy. The tomatoes will have to go elsewhere this year. I created the 25cm/9 inch wide flat trench 5cm/2" deep and spaced my seeds in trench 1, 25cm/9" apart. I'd watered it already. I then covered the beans in soil, so there they were, planted at the correct distance and depth, according to the packet. I put some chicken wire over the trench, so the cat didn't imagine I'd kindly made him a new loo.
I moved on to trench 2. I had to shuffle around some shallots, which seemed to have been put in the wrong place. I must talk to the help. I shovelled the soil to create another trench, working from one side, and then the other. The light was failing and I thought I'd come across an indication that the cat had been there before me. I poked the indication, and noticed it was a strange shape. And had a foot. I picked up the indication. It was a frog. I thought I was holding evidence that I'd just decapitated a frog. Perhaps the cat had played with it. I decided that once I'd finished the bean planting, I would go all CSI on the frog, within the limitations of my general ignorance, the lack of light and the fact that it was covered in soil, and put it to one side while completing the task. Five minutes later I reentered the house with the floppy frog and looked at it under electric light. It seemed complete, and what I'd thought was spade work on a fragile amphibian body turned out to be a pocket of soil on a loose-skinned hibernating frog. I hoped. I held it out to show my daughter, who asked why are you showing me a dead bird? I waved a frog foot at her and she said a frog was even more disgusting and asked me to take it elsewhere. Since I'd discovered that frogs do bury themselves in soil to hibernate, I went and dug a shallow hole and popped the floppy frog in it, topped it with around 5cm/2" soil, scattered some leaves around and left it, planted like a broad bean, where I hope it is unlikely to be discovered by the cat.
I wanted frogs in the garden. They eat slugs.
I carefully read the packet (I'm fully trained) and cleared the bit of the raised beds newly designated broad bean worthy. The tomatoes will have to go elsewhere this year. I created the 25cm/9 inch wide flat trench 5cm/2" deep and spaced my seeds in trench 1, 25cm/9" apart. I'd watered it already. I then covered the beans in soil, so there they were, planted at the correct distance and depth, according to the packet. I put some chicken wire over the trench, so the cat didn't imagine I'd kindly made him a new loo.
I moved on to trench 2. I had to shuffle around some shallots, which seemed to have been put in the wrong place. I must talk to the help. I shovelled the soil to create another trench, working from one side, and then the other. The light was failing and I thought I'd come across an indication that the cat had been there before me. I poked the indication, and noticed it was a strange shape. And had a foot. I picked up the indication. It was a frog. I thought I was holding evidence that I'd just decapitated a frog. Perhaps the cat had played with it. I decided that once I'd finished the bean planting, I would go all CSI on the frog, within the limitations of my general ignorance, the lack of light and the fact that it was covered in soil, and put it to one side while completing the task. Five minutes later I reentered the house with the floppy frog and looked at it under electric light. It seemed complete, and what I'd thought was spade work on a fragile amphibian body turned out to be a pocket of soil on a loose-skinned hibernating frog. I hoped. I held it out to show my daughter, who asked why are you showing me a dead bird? I waved a frog foot at her and she said a frog was even more disgusting and asked me to take it elsewhere. Since I'd discovered that frogs do bury themselves in soil to hibernate, I went and dug a shallow hole and popped the floppy frog in it, topped it with around 5cm/2" soil, scattered some leaves around and left it, planted like a broad bean, where I hope it is unlikely to be discovered by the cat.
I wanted frogs in the garden. They eat slugs.
wraparound deck and pergola with raised beds
Decks are very adaptable, and can be any shape you fancy. Here the deck replace a sunken terrace with broken tiling and uneven steps. Running the deck along the side made sense, and continuing it up the side made the whole thing seem of a piece.
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