A ROSE GROWS WILD IN THE COUNTRY

“A ROSE GROWS WILD IN THE COUNTRY”

                                    (Words and music - Peretti/ Creatore/ Weiss)

First, a statement of fact - I have been berated today for pontificating on how perfect our garden is when she tells me I am idle and she wants order, not weeds and more change as I cannot keep up with what we have. I use the continuous rain as an excuse - yes, it may be a heat wave in the south but “up north” “Still falls the rain.”

Back to being berated - so what do we do - fence off chunks and leave them to do their own thing, get someone in to strim and stuff, stop playing so much golf and sitting in front of this computer, messing with photographs and churning out blogs?

So to another blog - I have weeded the veg and fruit beds and cleared grass from the shrubs on the banking as well a violently pruning the huge broom so can justify a little blogging.

Now we are well beyond the daffodil damage time - do not cut back the leaves of spring bulbs and corms until they are over or next year’s show will be much poorer as the plants will not have time to build up reserves - we can strim the long grass. (Or someone else can.)

One Council not far south from here planted thousands of crocuses in the grass strips between the road and pavement on the road leading into the town. Then they mowed them as soon as the fantastic display was done. Next year the show was poor and finally zero. What a waste.

Now, I have inadvertently strimmed trees and killed them (wrists slapped) by effectively ring barking them. (Taking a strip of bark from a tree trunk all the way around will kill all growth above that point.) The lads working on our local golf course regularly kill young trees by doing this. Sigh!

 Some local Councils have sense and only cut back verges enough to ensure safety for traffic and leave the rest - a wonderful habitat for all sorts of flora and fauna.

Wild plants thrive in the garden, some in the wood, in the bog, in the pond, the hedges, on the grass bankings and some in the flowerbeds. Foxgloves seed themselves around the beds and are welcome - spectacular plants wherever they are (in moderation) - and they grow in the woodland. Amongst the trees and in the long hedge there are wild dog roses (which I do prune when they get out of hand - you can be ecologically sound (whatever that means) and still exert some sort of control).

We have the wild Alchemilla mollis (Lady’s Mantle) as well as the garden kind. There is a difference - the leaves of the wild sort are not so hairy and the plant is less bulky. The third sort - Alpine and much smaller - we do not have.

When, years ago, I worked in Southport (it was YEARS ago), and my wife worked in Woodvale, she used to take the back road from Pilkington Road, where we lived, and this ran across an area of waste land covered in tree lupins growing wild. They were yellow and for some years, in previous gardens, we grew them. In our current garden we have the white variety, which can be very beautiful. R says she does not like the way it turns pink/mauve as it ages. We also grow Evening Primroses for their wonderful yellow. They grow all along the shore and dunes around Southport.

Some weeds were once medicines - time for a poem.

WOUNDWORT

i

In the marshy edge,

where vegetation hesitates,

Woundwort sends spires

of pink through the shade.

The hollow stems are brittle

and, if crushed, smell strongly.

Its leaves are nettle-like

but have no sting.

ii

In Kent a poor man scything Peason

sliced his leg to the bone..  He crept to

some Woundwort, bruised it with his rough hands,

tied a bundle ‘round the gaping cut

and secured it with a piece of shirt.

Day by day he poulticed it with stems

stamped in lard - was cured.  Gerard saw this,

and thought that he had found an all-heal.

                       

iii

Mr E Cartwright of Graye’s Inn, Holborne,

who had been thrust through the lung and stomach

by himself, was found dying in his bed

with a frothing discharge staining his shirt.

John Gerard, herbalist, gave him drink, found

one wound leaked - the other snuffed a candle.

He took the leaves of All Heale and stamped them

with hog’s grease, strapped a tight poultice

to the chest of the injured, healed him.

iv

In the woodland edge,

Woundwort is a wild flower.

Flowers, six round the stem,

taper to the top; long

lower lips kissed with white

bend under bee weight.

Once it was a cure,

Gerard’s all-heal.

(after 1.  Geoffrey Grigson, The Englishman’s Flora,

            2. John Gerard, Gerard’s Herbal.)

I suppose growing up on a Lake District farm and roaming wild, plus an interest in botany from my pram years, (thanks Mum), instilled a love of nature. Days spend creating tunnels in high bracken, mucking about by the lake or in becks, climbing hills or just wandering in the woods must have influenced me.

I like to take a little of my childhood (R would say all of it) with me as I get older.

So, there you are, I do not need to return to my childhood as I age, I never left it!

7 JAYS AND 4 RABBITS AND LOTS OF RAIN

Yes, that is right.

Rabbits have increased by one - which seems to mean our invaders (actually boarders as they have a burrow somewhere in the bramble patch) are poor breeders. I wonder if Brer Fox has been in the bramble patch?

As to the jays they are everywhere cackling and squawking like a load of witches from That Play. In fact they are timid if approached - twitchy witches.

So, rain on Monday.

Tuesday deadheading and I collected a load of aquilegia seed and sealed it in a brown paper envelope.

Whilst picking raspberries R came across a triffid nettle five feet high which bit her, I pulled out two stout stems and I was stung.

I also collected blackcurrants by the handful so I could pick them over whilst watching the TV in the evening.

Some of the raspberries are now jam, the rest eaten with meringue and ice cream.

Wednesday it rained all night and the garden was soaked and squelchy. The rain eased early and later in the day and we cut back all the aquilegia stems and weeded and deadheaded and trimmed as we went.

The first, yes the first, sweet peas are in a vase and smelling heavenly. 

Suddenly there seem to be more bees in the garden - it is a pity they do not eat slugs and snails. My new attempt at a delphinium came to an abrupt halt yesterday when something mollusc assassinated the growing stem.

We are watching our flowers and praying they will come right for next week as we are providing small decorations for the tables at our son's wedding.

So, naturally I give you a multiple image of borage (not suitable except in a Pimms or G and T), Alliums (now over) and a mixture of honesty and wallflowers (also over). It is just that I had these pics in my Blog file and thought I would use them.

Some plants are getting too rampant - Mimulus in the pond and stream, a white campanula in one of the main beds and japanese anemones all over the place. I must remember to deal with them in the autumn. I do not chuck them away but try and find a corner where they can do their thing without me worrying.

Time to nip out and gather some more blackcurrants to distract me from the tv.

We had our first broad beans last night - yum! 

It is amazing into what horse manure can be turned!

A JAM SESSION

So the wife’s away and what do I do?

No, you are wrong.

Raspberries will rot if I do not make them into jam - recipe in Mrs Beeton and a year or two ago on the blogspot blog.

And the old plums and apple in the freezer need to be used so space is ready for this year’s crop. Mind you I think some of the fruit in there is from two years ago. We do not eat it fast enough to keep up with supply.

So add an onion, some raisins, ginger and chillies, sugar and salt and we end up with Chutney.

Delia S. has a good recipe called Old Doverhouse Chutney.

Then, after jarring it, (not really bottling), it should be left for at least three months to mature.

(Do you like the Cow tray?)

I keep picking blackcurrants and freezing them, the broad beans are nearly ready but the beetroot is very poor this year - I seem to be having great difficulty getting them to germinate.

And it keeps right on a-raining, every minute every hour. Having said that, as I sit here typing out comes the sun.

This morning there was a terrible din behind one of the sheds and what should I find trapped there but a jay! I rescued and released it (put on some tough gardening gloves first) and what a kerfuffle! They are fantastic close to - British parrots, I think, is an apt description - and all the rest of the day the bird has been recounting its escapade to the rest of the family in the big trees next door. What a row!

I do have a habit of using things in the garden that, perhaps, should be binned. A few years ago I bought a couple of white Polish (it said so underneath) dining chairs and put them up in the wood.

No one sat on them and they gradually rotted away and ended on the autumn bonfire. Odd things hang in trees like old goggles and broken wind chimes. At the base of one rhododendron pruned to grow on a single trunk is a sheep’s skull.

And the dark wood is lit by two Rambling Rector roses in full bloom - their white flowers tumbling in masses in the half shade. I can see them from my window - as I can see that everything needs dead heading, weeding (broad-leaved willowherb everywhere this year).

Then I see it is half-past four and the skimmings off the raspberry jam are waiting to be eaten in the kitchen. The kettle and a mug are waiting too . . . 

SUN AND RAIN AND CLEGS

We have had sun and warmth - collapse with shock, moan that it is too hot and then dive for cover as water is everywhere.

Mowing the lawn yesterday for the first time for almost a fortnight because of the rain, I had to avoid the lower garden and the areas where springs miraculously appear. 

Then the dreaded CLEGS struck and sucked my blood. If you have the benefit of horse manure in the next field - hence horses - you have the down side of Clegs, (horse-flies for the uninitiated).

These hungry insects are, of course, in no way, politically inclined. They will bite a member of any party.

So the squirrel trap is set and has caught nothing. The bait has gone but no trapped prey. I suspect the mice have been in and out without setting the thing off. Then, looking on the Internet I found that Grey Squirrels are classed as vermin. This means I have to kill them and cannot release them into the wild again. (So, if I do trap them I will not be telling you). This does not mean I have killed them or released them or . . . . . . 

We are eating raspberries - the best of all flavours? - Though run close by blackcurrants. These are also coming into ripeness and it looks like we will be swamped. Branches are bending with the weight of fruit. I have picked the last of the gooseberries and, topped and tailed, they are snugly tucked up in our freezer.

In the wood, in sunshine, with water on everything, the light is astonishing and magical.

In the garden the oriental poppies have succumbed to the wet and have been cut back to ground level in hope of a second flush in the autumn. The huge crambe is over and cut back. This is also being done with the geraniums so that there will be regrowth and a second flowering.

There will be no figs this year with the weather so bad but there are leaves - you never know when one might come in useful.

In the garden some garden plants will naturalise themselves - survive and compete with the wild plants. Examples in our garden are Acanthus, Geraniums, Oriental poppies, white willow herb (not as vigorous as the wild pink variety) and, on the top banking, sweet williams. I am not sure where they came from but now there is another patch to leave till the autumn.

I have had to go up the back field to inspect where the field drain enters the garden. A previous farmer just drained his land through our fence, (when the property belonged to TJ.) The cows and sheep had trampled the channel and the water was running off to the north-east before entering the garden and flooding the path lower down. I dug it out and replaced the stones moved by heavy animal feet.

Now, my son is here from London and has said I should put more how-tos into the blog.

Time to explore how-to make a nice cup of tea.

PLASTIC IN AN ECO GARDEN?!

Yes!

Big Coca Cola bottles and similar ilk with the bottoms removed make fine mini cloches, at the same time keeping predators at bay.

Milk cartons with the top cut off are great to fill with seed and take out into the garden to fill the bird feeders. You can actually make feeders from them but the squirrels here just tear them apart.

We have eight feeders at the moment plus the compost heap - robins like to forage on the latter amongst the kitchen scraps. We do not use the council garden waste green bin as we recycle everything in that field ourselves. The green bin is used as a water container by the veg. beds.

Two of the hanging feeders contain black sunflower seed, as does the one attached to the kitchen window. Five have peanuts. We buy our seed and nuts in bulk from a local farmer’s supply warehouse. I did try the mixed seed but the birds picked the ones they liked best and threw the rest on the ground. As a consequence there grew some unusual plants!

At this moment the peanut feeder outside my window has two juvenile great tits, one young cock chaffinch, a cock greenfinch and a coal tit on it - and it is raining.

Sheet plastic, if black, can be used to clear an area of weeds - black bin liners held down with stones will do but heavier duty stuff is better.

We also use a sheet of pond liner (we have no liners in our ponds)(so they do leak a bit) as a water slide down the banking for the children, both young and old. (We are not wasting water, as we do not have a shortage (borehole)).

I have used old fishing net found on a beach to aid a climber go up a tree but it is a bit too gaudy.

I have avoided plastic edging to paths using old branches off trees, old scaffolding planks and such instead. I had to be careful with the branches, (and wasn’t enough), because we lost a mature ash tree to the dreaded honey fungus. We then chopped the wood up for logs for the wood burning stove and left them in a heap near the manure heap - ERROR! The logs sprouted toadstools and the bootlaces of the mycelium spread into the heap. We had to burn the logs in a bonfire and even now I find traces of black cords in the manure - these are carefully removed and placed on the bonfire. The manure is never used anywhere near shrubs and trees but seems to be ok with the veg.

I wander from the subject - Plastic.

One of the most useless pieces of plastic I have come across was as a blade on a small hover mower in the days before this garden when the lawn was the size of a pocket hankie. They lasted no time at all. I have tried to make replicas from old cans but they are not very good. Any way that mower has been retired - but, as with many things - put in a shed. You never know when it might be of use?

Finally, I do wonder as to whether there is a connection between plastics and a disease such as cancer but plastic is ubiquitous. At least many plastics could be made biodegradable - couldn’t they?

The Senecio greyii, now called Brachyglottis, what a mouthful, are in full flower and spectacular.

They would look better if the sun was shining.

SLUGS AND SNAILS AND SPIDERSQUIRREL

So what does a green gardener do about snails and slugs?

Options - slug bait - not on, nematodes are much hassle and expense and how green is infecting the poor molluscs with nasty parasites? Then there is the squash 'em idea - mmm! Lastly bucket - pick them up, pop in a bucket and take them a long way away. If you only go a hundred yards they will return. Lastly cultivate blackbirds and thrushes but they can only stomach so much food, sadly.

Of course having toads and frogs in the garden is a bonus but there seems a never-ending supply of the slimy veg. eaters.

Our wet climate and mild winters are not good news - when we had the two hard winters the numbers especially of slugs was much reduced.

Last year I had slugs feeding on the runner beans eight feet off the ground!

My brother as a small boy would line up slugs on the ground and walk on them with bare feet - not a control method that would appeal to most people.

Let me move on - caterpillars - butterflies are beautiful and we have our nettles for the peacocks, red admirals etc and garlic mustard (Jack-by-the-hedge) for the Orange tips but the whites are a problem on the brassicas. Does one rub off the eggs and if caterpillars are removed do you squash them or throw them as far from you as possible hoping they will go elsewhere?

Poor old vegetables have a rough time but, I think, I have found a way to avoid carrot root fly. I knock out the bottoms of big plastic containers - the sort you can buy pelleted hen manure in - and place on fertile soil, fill with a sandy loam and sow into the top. The sneaky fly zooms along like a cruise missile just above the soil surface but misses my carrots nine inches up in the air.

Well, it has worked so far.

I use lots of netting to keep the pigeons off the seedlings, the birds off the redcurrants, the butterflies off the broccoli and so on. Keeping the wood mice out is another thing altogether and they just munch away.

Now to SPIDERSQUIRREL - I have discovered why we have no fledgling house martins. This morning I looked up at the nest 7 metres up under the east end gable and there, clinging to the wall was a squirrel. It ran down the wall (coloured render) and around the corner at two metres from the ground with me giving vociferous chase.

How does it hold onto the wall?

So it is either a gun or a trap - I have bought a trap - or should I let nature take its course and the house martins lose their young, let alone all the other birds in the garden.

A trap - and garden, no matter what its description may be, is a managed space and I am not a killer. So trap them and deport them - a long way away.

I know you will say that other squirrels will come in to fill the vacant space - true - but they are going to get deported too.

And I promise to release them well away from any garden.

WHAT IS AN ECO-GARDEN?

This is a way to the wood, it meets the steps at the far end. on the right is a mature ash and an elder with a Rambling Rector rose climbing into the upper branches.
Also on the right are brambles and ground elder - tolerated but kept under some sort of vague control.
The wood is full of campion and foxgloves in June.

Enough - what I really want to talk about is - What is and eco-garden?
I have no windmills, solar panels, ground-source heat pumps, most of the garden work is done by hard work and well-rotted horse manure.
I do have machines - mowers and strimmers - but they are necessary for I would need to pay gardeners without them. Having said that I did succumb last year when not so fit to having a strong man strim and clear the bankings and wood (not the wild nettle and bramble beds).
I allow wild flowers and grasses to flourish in selected areas so with the wild we also have some lawn, flower beds and veg and fruit beds.
The garden is a compromise between anarchy and control - neither winning.
I suppose the 'eco' bit means ecologically sound? But to which ecology does this apply - eco and organic are not the same thing.
This leads on to the term 'Green' and all that that conjures in the mind.
In the end all one can do is try to give more to our planet than we take, protect more than destroy.
So, if we get on to the bigger picture the greatest problem the planet faces is us.
We are the plague that threatens the world - come on politicians, address the population problem rather than ignore it.
If the population of Britain was 25 million we could be ecologically sound, self-sufficient, cease to rape out world.

Enough ranting - this is an image of the side of one of my compost heaps - a living willow fence. I know - it might draw much of the goodness from the heap but it is attractive.

Todays news is flash flooding with the stream bursting its banks in several places and total failure in chasing off the squirrels from the bird feeders - it consists of me shouting through the window, "I can see you," and the animal(s) retreating for 5 minutes and then returning - I give up.
The top banking is full of goldfinches and the sun has just come out and is lighting them up.

When the place is so wet all I can do is stay out of the garden and let nature have its wicked way - is that being eco?

I do not know - in the end I do my own thing, enjoy having nature all around me and tinker with it when I feel it is appropriate.

STONES

I have put the picture of the path up into the woodland are first to show how it looks in early spring. The grass is short for we strim some of it in early autumn to encourage wild flowers next year - much like a hay meadow.

The steps, for what they are are made from scaffolding planks discarded by a local company as unsafe and they can be bought for a pound or two each. Wood chippings are used for the path - or were until I broke the shredder.

Now this area is a jungle of wildflowers and long grasses, some beautiful like the wood melick. Paths thread the chaos with single planks to cross the streams.

In then garden the roses are getting underway - this one is Rosa rubifolia because of its purple leaves and resembles the briars growing at the woodland edge and in the hedges. Though we only have the dog rose in the garden the field rose and downy rose do grow nearby.

A friend, (or was it family?), said that I should talk about water. As we have nothing but rain here, except for Monday when I slogged around a wet garden mowing, I should say that shortage is not a problem. Not only do we have a small stream but our own water supply. There are two wells in the garden - not suitable for human consumption and a borehole. It cost a third of the price the water board wanted to charge to bring in the mains supply.

Finally to stones.

STONES

On digging new ground for potatoes I found four tide smooth stones.

“Tom brought them here,” his daughter said, “To edge beds.”

Our stones fill corners, sit on logs, fill old bowls -

slate slabs from Luing inset with cubes of shining pyrites,

rock crystal from Corfu, 1969, still exotic,

gathered from a quarry on our honeymoon,

pebbles from Menorca when the octopus grabbed my ankle

on the snorkelling beach and I yelped with alarm,

white quartz from a crag near Goats Water carried down

the old track to Little Arrow through Bannishead,

heavy haematite looking like half an enormous brain

lugged from Newgale in a backpack, now a doorstop,

small stone eggs harvested from the shore at Roanhead

whilst Jethro and Willow excavated mountains of sand,

pink Ionan granite from the beach opposite Eilean Annraidh

where we stood and stared north at Western Mull and Staffa,

slag from the bloomery by the lake near Napping Tree

where we would swim and cook sausages on a wood fire.

When my father died I took a dark brown stone from Bardsea Beach

and rolled it in my pocket like a Rosary, a comfort.

All these places, memories and events are now collected in our garden,

waiting in the shadows to be seen and surprise me.

WET WET DROWNED

The big mower sleeps.
It rained and the pond overflowed, the small bridges were shoved up in the air and grass flattened.

The crambe lies on then lawn

as does much of the cut-leaved elder, some of the buddleia. The lovage is at an awkward angle but worst of all the twelve foot grey poplar is on its side. Rain and wind coupled with sodden ground and shallow rooting have done it.

I have been out with stakes and ties to hold it upright and then placed heavy stones around the base to stabilise the roots.

Everywhere is full of the sound of rushing water but, fortunately, the house is well above the stream.

It must be summer - midsummer? "With a hey and a hey and a hey nonny-no, the rain it raineth every day!" (Sort of Bill S).

To the more mundane I almost feel sorry for the bedraggled rabbits and squirrels - almost.

We ate both broccoli and curly kale from the garden with our meal last night - freshly picked food tastes so much better and I had to remove only one caterpillar - small white butterfly, I think.

The two compost heaps

by the house are overflowing and it is time to move the contents. In the picture you can see a big builders sack - this is the leafmould container slowly doing its job.

We have had a lot of fledging going on - chaffinches, goldfinches and greenfinches, blue tits, great tits and coal tits, house sparrows and tree sparrows, in the undergrowth skulking robins.

In the wood leaves and twigs are everywhere - it always amazes me how much dead wood an ash tree can carry.

We are gearing up for the grandchildren - pools to fall in, paths in the wood to explore, nettles to sting - you know.

Actually they will probably sit on the floor of their bedroom in a sea of lego oblivious tothe wonders in the garden - but happy.

HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A PIGNUT?

It is raining rabbits and squirrels (no cat, no dog).

The birds, unlike here in the sunshine, are damp and hungry - I wonder if the swallow and martin young will survive as the parents cannot catch food in this weather?

In the garden, wild or tame, there grow wild herbs and other plants that can be harvested.

The stream has abundant watercress - so much it chokes the top pond, and this can only be eaten cooked as the water drains from a field in which cattle and sheep graze - the danger of liver flukes can be ignored but . . . .

We have our patch, or should I say patches, of nettles - vital for wildlife especially insects, a swather of wild garlic and one of ground elder. (The Romans brought that one here.) There are elder trees with flowers and fruit for jam, cordial - elderflower fritters are great, brambles (blackberries), sweet cicely (aniseed flavoured leaves) and Spignel (Meum athamanticum) a dill substitute.

So have you ever eaten a pignut? They are very hot and peppery and grow in the open part of the wood amongst the campion.

The hazels in the hedge that was laid last year will soon have nuts and there grows a wild plum and blackthorn (sloes).

The lovage is out of control and 8 feet high - and still growing.

When we first came my sister-in-law gave us half a dozen damson suckers from their orchard and last year we had our first damsons. The trees were planted traditionally - at the edge of the property except for one near the veg. beds.

The wild roses give us hips - more for itching powder than rose hip syrup. When I was at school we were paid 3 old pence a pound for rosehips and I still have a collectors badge somewhere. Rosehip syrup is full of vitamin C.

Once I made some rowanberry jelly but it was so laxative we had to discard it.

We have not tried collecting birch sap yet and the maple is too small for syrup - one day, perhaps.

Enough, the squirrel has just pulled the bottom of the peanut feeder by the compost heaps - sigh!

TIME FOR A TOUR OF THE GARDEN

The idea for this came to me this afternoon whilst visiting a village nearby under the National Gardens Scheme.

The first image is of the lower garden looking through the white birches and the willow tunnel to the Writing Shed.

Next is the House as seen from the Wood showing the mass of red campion there and one of the many nesting boxes - this one has a great tit in it.

From the wood the stream tumbles through roots down a banking and past some planting including a red Acer and Royal Fern.

We do cut back some of the longer grass here to reveal the water and to make sure the stream does not get clogged.

In the driest weather this can dry up but that has not yet happened this year.

After that there is a panoramic shot of the woodland lawn. The undergrowth on the right, beneath the sycamore tree, is full of wild bluebells in spring whereas the tangle on the left has some willow growing in it which I harvest for hurdles and such. It also has such wild flowers as Hogweed and wild Angelica.

Other flowers in the wood, apart from the campion, include Herb Robert, Pignut and Foxgloves.

Of course there are also brambles and nettles, the latter important for butterflies.

We did try, in the spring, to harvest nettle tops and eat them like spinach but, to be honest, they were pretty poor, at least not to my taste.

At the south east corner of the

garden is bog, stream and two ponds. Here we get toads and frogs, water snails and beetles, water boatmen and pond skaters, damselflies and dragonflies.

The main pond is not lined (hence it sometimes leaks). The boardwalk is made from discarded scaffolding planks.

So now to the vegetable beds and fruit growing. In the picture, from

left to right, are the herb bed and cold frame, gooseberries, red and black currants and raspberries. Beyond this are the vegetable beds, two enclosed in chicken wire to keep the bunnies out, a rhubarb bed and asparagus bed. On the right are fruit trees - Bramley Apple, Victoria Plum, Conference Pear and Greengage. Beyond this is the horse manure heap and compost bins

In front of the house is a very dry banking with a shallow cover of soil over the hard core upon which the house stands. Here grow many grey leaved and aromatic plants, calendulas and geraniums.

Finally the flower beds with roses and paeonies, cardoon and crambe, aquilegias and pinks and self sown foxgloves.

The garden is full of alchemilla and catmint, poppies self seed and this year we had our first flowers on the wisteria.

And now, having done this tour I realise that some of the most important aspects of the garden are missing - the view over Morecambe Bay to the Forest of Bowland thirty or more miles away, the sound of spring lambs in the fields around us, the birdlife - not just on the feeders but visits from mallard, buzzard, heron and jays.

This is now long enough.

There is plenty more at http://darbishire.blogspot.co.uk/ where I have been spouting about the garden for a few years.

STAIR RODS, SLUGS AND SNAILS

The gutters cannot cope and a waterfall splashes down outside the kitchen.

It is summer!

Well is it?

Midsummer's day is clearly in the wrong place - yes, it is the summer solstice, but midsummer - never.

Here in the UK summer is June, July and August, autumn is September and October, spring is April and May and winter is November, December, January, February and March! At least it feels like that - and then you have a week with temperatures in the seventies in March and we all freeze in May.

Of course, if the British had no variations in weather we would have little to discuss.

The picture of the garden and house is taken from the far south western corner by the white birches. The stream winds across the foreground, (the rain was so heavy yesterday the stream lifted one of the wooden bridges (really planks) into the air), the wood is to the left and the ponds and boggy areas off to the right.

The broom on the banking below the house has been dramatic. However it does have the habit of scattering its offspring about - not always quite what I want.

So to the slimy chewers.

I have planted out more white Cosmos and each has its own bottomless plastic pot with a band of copper tape.

I have done the same with the last pumpkin but I have never seen such fat snails. Last winter was not hard and cold enough so much mollusc life overwintered.

A jay has just landed on a post outside the study window - British parrots? They are so twitchy and timid - unlike the grey squirrels.

At least with all the rain the rhubarb does not need watering.

The white lilac has gone brown - deadheading in order.

We are seeing many young birds now, bullying their parents - is anything new?

Now I have a Carrion crow on the shed roof.

I hope the swallow and house martin young have managed to ride out the rain as the adult birds find it difficult to feed their young in such conditions.

It is time to venture out and sow another lot of beetroot - I think the pigeons got the last lot. They are great fat birds waddling about under the feeders. No wonder the peregrine takes them for a slap up meal - to eat, I mean, not takes them out to lunch . . . . you know what I mean.

CASHEL HOUSE AND SUCH

Just back from a fantastic wedding at Cashel House Hotel in Connemara and its wonderful gardens where one can wander through the shrubbery and woods to be surprised by unexpected corners such as Mary's Garden.

Arrived home to be dazzled by the oriental poppies growing as I had hoped at the foot of the upper banking.

Set off by a burst of white soapwort and the green of foliage and grass they are a knock-out.

More will be planted - I want the whole bed to be just oriental poppies - I can sort out what to do with the area for the rest of the year later.

The flowerbed was not the only place where there is a blaze of oriental red.

In the long grass of the banking below the toffee trees (cercidiphyllum)(the autumn leaves smell of caramel) is a poppy from before we built the house. The previous owner, T.J., had these and they have survived, now growing as if wild.

We returned to a whirl of house martins - as hoped we are being colonised and, in addition to the nest under the west gable we now have two more under the east gable (and the swallow above the front (back) door). (The front door is at the back of the house.)

To more edible things - here you can see broad beans sown in succession being protected by twine and alkathene piping - gaudy but seems to work.

The plastic tubs, bottoms knocked out, have carrots in them. I do this to avoid carrot fly which zooms around at zero feet much like incoming cruise missiles. With the carrots being up in the air they whizz past in search of another target. (I hope!)

Just mowed lawns and hit a small stone with blades - so, out with fork and dig it up then fill hole - stone was huge 2ft x 1ft x 1ft or a lot in metres.

There is a feeling of impending rain in the air so I am glad to have done the grass cutting - anyway the mower has to go off for a service now.

Done lawn, had shower, have mugga tea.

Next wedding end July - C, son and P. Need to lose weight ++ so exercise ++++ and food ---- for 6 weeks.

On the other hand I may just wear a different suit?

GARDENING DESIRES

This is one of the paths in our small piece of woodland.

So, I asked myself, (if one talks to trees I suppose it is ok to talk to myself), if you could work magic in the garden what would you chose.

Several thoughts spring to mind - manure that transports itself, weeds that commit suicide all in the greater cause, birds that do not fly into windows, squirrels that are red - I could tolerate them if they were not so grey, rabbits that ate only long grass, slugs and snails that emigrate every morning to next door (next door is a field), paving that did not get slippery and need power washing AND a machine that strimmed by itself.

Ah! I can only dream.

This is a marigold, one of the ones that overwintered and now are flowering profusely.

It is redolent with Fibonacci numbers as its petals spiral out from the centre, it is just that it is not easy to see here.

R loves orange, not oranges but the colour. So I search for orange geums and wallflowers and oriental poppies and so on.

Marigolds are right up her street but she likes these big ones not the small tagetes.

No matter what colour there is in the garden, and most of it is green, greys and more importantly whites are essential.

I like red so the oriental poppy Goliath does well as does Geum Mrs Bradshaw seen here.

Something has munched the Cosmos Annabelle seedlings - rabbits I think - and I saw them escaping up into the brambles by the far wall - investigation needed.

As per Monty Don on Gardeners' World, the asparagus is very poor and now needs feeding and leaving alone - only 3 meals from the whole bed.

Roses are out and in a vase in the hall with a large sprig of Kolkwitzia, the beauty bush. Strangely, its flowers look much better in an arrangement than on the bush.

The other morning I looked out of the living room window to see, sitting on the willow tunnel, a tawny owl. We hear them at night, hooting and squeawking. (The sound is nether an squeak nor a squawk).

It is still chilly, wooly combinations and flat hat (I do live up north) on, swimming cozy well shut away in a drawer.

IT'S NOT DURKIN BUT IT IS DATE SLICE

The heat has gone but it is still pleasantly warm.

I have just spent an hour or so sitting in the garden listening to the birds singing and watching the swallows and house martins - yes, both are nesting under the eaves.

A cup of tea, a piece of date slice (recipe at the end)(not mine), a Kakuro completed, a few pages out of Prehistoric Cumbria by David Barrowclough (he gets the middle name of my Great Great Uncle, the one who excavated Ehenside Tarn, wrong - should have been Dukinfield not Durkin), and finally Our Kind of Traitor by John Le Carre.

The name Le Carre reminds me of the story of one of our children - I will let them be anonymous - who when asked to name a disciple of Jesus said Judas the Carrot!

To the garden, mowing, STRIMMING!!!!!, yes, I have taken it out after 18 months and it started first time, done around shrubs on banking and the sides of the stream. A big toad and a small frog escaped my threat.

The asparagus struggles on - a disappointing year - but the rhubarb has recovered with a good feed and loads of water. We are getting desperate for rain or it will be watering, watering, watering. Three cheers for a bore-hole.

Aquilegia are everywhere - wonderful chaos.

The Oriental poppies the previous owner, TJ, had have come out in the long grass on the top banking. I rather like the shock of colour in the long grass.

The streams from the field (drains) have dried up but the one from under next doors wall and the drainage from the septic tank overflow have kept the pond, just, topped up (ish).

The wood is full of red campion and pignut but the bluebells are over.

It must be time for the recipe -

Date slice -

Ingredients - 12 oz dates chopped and stoned

6 tbsp water

grated rind 1/2 lemon

8oz wholemeal flour

4 oz porridge oats

dark brown sugar 3 oz

butter melted 5oz

Heat dates, lemon rind and water gently till dates soft.

Mix rest of stuff and press half into bottom of shallow square cake tin.

Spread date goo n the top and then the rest of the stuff on top of that. Press down.

About 20 min in 200C - Aga, bottom top oven with cold shelf in.

Allow to cool, cut into squares and eat!