November wasn’t soooo bad
but this December has been a case of water water everywhere….
Of course that was inevitable, wasn’t it? Because the Textiliste and I decided that we’d do some reorganisation.
We have one very long bed, always known as the ‘Hot Bed’ for its raging colours that we’ve decided to completely redo.
It comprises roses, peonies, crocosmias, irises and daisies with a sprinkling of poppies. All would be dug up and the roses and peonies replanted. These are ancient. We’ve been here thirty years and they were old then. So that would needed care.
However the Lad, our knowledgeable garden guru has done this in other places successfully so we deferred to his undoubted skillset.
The daisies and crocosmia would be spread about bringing colour elsewhere.
If all goes well the bed will be converted into a meadowed area of fruit trees making it slightly less intensive so far as future management is concerned.
But to reach that point, which we are aiming at 2021 to finalise, meant the digging out of everything. And that meant me…
I do love a good dig. I plug in my earpieces, put on some podcast or audible book and off I go. I decided to dig up everything other than the peonies and roses and leave those for the Lad. There was a yukka tree that needed heaving out too. Getting out all the crocosmia cormes wasn’t easy either. This is partly why we have decided on 2021 for the planting of the fruit trees and meadow grass; it gives us a season to see what grows back and dig it up. They’ll be some weeds too – not many in this bed happily. I think!
All in all this went pretty well and the peonies and roses were successfully replanted by the beginning of December. They seem to have stabilised quickly.
Why is there always a but…?
This led to ‘discussions’. These are terrifying situations for the Labourer, viz me. They involve the Textiliste and the Lad sharing a coffee and seemingly staring at a part of the garden that wasn’t scheduled to be given the ‘Discussion’ treatment.
In this case the triangular bed adjacent to the Hot Bed, full of roses and poppies and geraniums.
‘Why don’t we move those roses too? And extend the new stretch?’
Why indeed not? But this bed, until recently the home also of an ailing cherry tree is full of bind weed and those pseudo-strawberry plants with long brittle roots…
So I dug that too. In the rain. As the earth became stickier. And I took down the now redundant and dilapidated arch…
And in one way I was fortunate that the real rain is only now setting in and flowing the garden.
I’m off to yoga… oh and here’s a year of the Dog…