Slow and steady wins the race - mostly

Clematis Armandii

When we first moved in here we were desperate to cover the tall fences that surround our garden as quickly as possible. So we scoured the internet for quick-growing climbers and bought what we thought were several fine specimens: Clematis Armandii 'Snowflake', Clematis Montana 'Grandiflora', and the quick-growing evergreen honeysuckle Halls Prolific (Lonicera Japonica 'Halls Prolific').

With hindsight, it was something of a mistake, as these three are basically the hooligans of the plant world. Halls Prolific is quick-growing, but beyond that it's a thoroughly useless plant - it gets mildew in summer, has feeble flowers and scrappy leaves. Clematis Montana at least has pretty foliage, but it grows so explosively that you spend half your life hacking it back to prevent it from covering the entire garden. Clematis Armandii throws out positively triffid-like shoots all summer and is covered sparsely in tough leathery leaves. You have to attack it as often as possible, otherwise it grows up and up, leaving a sickly trail of bare stems and the odd lonely leaf in its wake.

I'm being a bit unkind; the thugs lining our fence have done their job, but it doesn't stop me from being jealous of our neighbours pretty, and good-natured, slow-growing quince.

And for a few glorious weeks of the year I can just about forgive the Armandii its many and varied sins; it flowers early, and abundantly. Ours has just come out, so for the moment at least it's spared the secateurs. 

The thug on the fence. Don't be deceived by its delicate appearance.

Sweet Woodruff

Sweet Woodruff - before the cat incident

This has been a real labour of love. I bought seeds of Sweet Woodruff (Galium Odoratum) 2 years ago. It's a lovely, slightly invasive, but tough little herb great for tricky sites in dry shade. What I didn't realise was that the seeds needed stratification before they would germinate (ie they need to be kept very cold for a bit to trick them into thinking they've gone through winter and into spring). So instead of putting them in the freezer for a few weeks I decided to leave them out in a pot over winter for real. 5 months later, they'd germinated (I was surprised it worked - I've not done it before), and once they'd grown on a bit I hurriedly and rather badly planted them under our silver birch last Autumn just before leaving for America for several months. When I came back in midwinter they seemed to be dead, but then, last week I noticed these tiny green stars emerging. I carefully cleared the area around them of weeds to give them space to grow.

This weekend I checked on the plants again. Our two cats had obviously spotted the bare earth and thought I'd made them a brand new garden litter tray. Two giant turds right on top of the little seedlings. Thanks guys...

Another wet weekend

There's nothing like gardening in the rain. Today we were moving around enough to keep warm, and as everyone sensible was inside it felt like we had the estate to ourselves. Before I knew it I'd spent 5 hours out there, although clomping around in the mud didn't do the lawn any good.

It was one of those satisfying days, where the garden looks happier, and perkier once you're done. We were simply chopping back the old dead woody stems and grasses left over from last year (a task I've been putting off because they look so pretty). I'm good at this sort of pruning because it's really very easy. All you have to do is chop off the dead stuff. I'm not so good at cutting into growing stems on a live plant, and often stand baffled looking at a plant for minutes on end before I pluck up the courage to attack it. I've an entire book dedicated to the dark art of pruning but even having read it cover to cover I still have niggling doubts that I'm doing the right thing. My co-gardener thinks I'm too soft - and she's probably right.

It's for their own good

Garden activity

A drizzly weekend was the perfect time to get out in the garden - the rain means all is quiet on the estate. Not that much to do - we covered our beds with plastic in an attempt to warm up the clay soil a little quicker, and planted a row of garlic in a raised pile of compost to try and stop it from rotting in the wet mud. It's a bit late to plant garlic really, but it should be OK.

It's not pretty, but our soil needs all the help it can get

Garlic - tucked up inside a nice pile of compost

I also cut a chunk off the roots of some of my favourite plants in the world - Persicaria Amplexicaulis 'Firetail' to give to a friend. My mum inherited it from my grandpa's garden, and has grown it in her gardens ever since. She passed it down to me a couple of years ago. I've given it to at least two others - it's so simple to give away - you just take a spade and chop off chunk of root around this time of year. As long as you get a bit with some of the tiny new leaves on, it should grow up big and strong. Once it's settled, it will take almost any kind of punishment you throw at it. In our garden it grows in heavy clay, as well as dry semi-shade that's pretty much waterlogged in the winter. It rewards you and any insects in the garden, with flowers from midsummer all the way through to the first frosts. I like it so much, in our small garden we've still found room for three.

One of our Persicarias now - just poking through

And this is what it looks like in August - it's the plant with tiny red flower spires on the left

The veg plan

So this is the plan. I don't have lots of space, so I'm growing lots of tall stuff, and as soon as one thing is finished, something else will take it's place. This year we're trying climbing courgettes, and experimenting with planting corn and climbing french beans in the same place.

I rotate crops every year, but not to any strict pattern - it's mostly just trying to avoid putting a crop in the same place as last year. That's why I need a plan - so I can look at what I put where last year, and avoid doing the same thing again.

The plan won't last a second once I actually start planting, but at least it means I can order the seeds.

Rude Rhubarb

Bright crisp blue morning. A steaming cup of tea. Perfect time to have a good stare at the garden and make myself late for work. My current favourite is the Rhubarb. Not only does it come back year after year, but it's hardy down to arctic conditions, and almost impossible to kill.

To top it all, when it first comes up in the spring it looks like a cross between a cock and a tiny little brain. What more could you want in a plant?

Rudebarb

My Garden

So this is my tiny patch of green. Some scaffolding the council have forgotten to take down at the back of our house let me take these photo's from above. It looks grey and grim, but if you look closely the signs of spring are there. The crocuses are up. The sedums are showing. And from down there mostly you can't see the tower blocks.

It's not much, but it's home

I really should cut down the skeletons of last years plants that have lasted the winter, but I can't quite bring myself to yet. Until the bulbs are up I need something to keep me going out there in the February drizzle.

Dead flowers of the grass Calamagrostis Karl Foerster

The raised beds with our estate in the background.

hi

I suppose I should explain a bit about why I’m writing this blog.

Partly it’s because I love taking photos, and want to put some of them to use.

Partly it’s because I love to write and want a place to do it that isn’t my day job.

And partly – well mostly - it’s because I love my garden. Even with its estate playground out back filled with kids competing for ASBOs. Even with soil so heavy you could use it to make pots. It's a bit of land to grow stuff. And that's all I've ever really wanted.