A rather peculiar spring

Thank goodness for the garden.  Although our movements are less restricted than our French neighbours’, we are doing a lot of staying at home, and the garden does give us fresh air.  Most of my trips out - German, art etc - have been suspended, and so are the court days I’d have had if I hadn’t decided to retire early.  There is a huge amount to do in the garden, so I’m getting on with that a little at a time as weather permits.  The high winds of recent days make gardening rather less than pleasant, however, so after a burst of potting up earlier in the week, grass cutting has been about my limit the last couple of days.  It got its second cut yesterday, one click lower this time, and although some bits are rather bare and/or boggy, it’s looking a touch more presentable.  The real success story in the garden is the batch of polyanthus I got the winter before last from Sutton’s.  They have been flowering for months, and provide a fine splash of colour.  That could have a bit to do with the vast quantities of grit and fertiliser we got Ben and his mate to dig into the new bed when they’d lifted the turf.  

We plan to use the raised beds for runner beans again this year, so I’ve made a start on clearing it out. I’d planted out some miniature roses in it - the sort you get as a present, four to a pot.  They did very well out there last year, so I’ve moved them to the front to replace some pathetic sarcococca (sweet box) put in by the soi-disant  landscapers.  Not hard to see why they languished: they had just dug a hole in the clay and plonked the pot contents in, making no attempt to improve the soil first.  Well, I’ve quarried out a garden bucket of sticky clay (I could barely lift it!) and heaved in some muck and compost along with some of the soil from the turf pile before replanting the roses.  We’ll see how they do, but so far they look OK.  We have another pot of mini roses to plant out, so more sweet box will be heading for the compost shortly.  

The sitooterie is warm now from mid-morning on decent days, so I expect I’ll be out there pricking out seedlings this coming week.  

An incidental result of cancelled engagements is that I have less opportunity to go shopping ad hoc.  We did a week’s worth last Monday, and haven’t been out by car since.  So, one way and another, we’re minimising the infection risk.  It does mean that we’re starting to get a bit stir crazy, but it has to be worth it.

Rules

We’re staying in except when we have to get supplies, confining shopping to what we need in the coming week.  Good job we don’t need flour, yeast, R-swipe, snotties or corned beef in the short term, then.  The roads were oddly quiet (except from some very loud potholes) when we went out today, and Fortnums was unusually quiet.  Maybe people are getting the hang of this.  Except for the idiots who insist on partying.

Pour passer aux chose sérieuses, three lots of washing have dried on the line today, and I found a packet of sweet olive tomato seeds at the nearby garden shop.  Former is unter Dach, and latter are sown.  Lots of flowering subjects are germinating in the the heated propagator, and it’s interesting to see that the rudbeckias I tried to harvest from different colours are germinating at different rates.  Or, of course, maybe not at all in some cases.  The tall cosmos seed I bought in Avignon last year have germinated quickly, alongside the tagetes seed saved from last year.

I spent a good hour in the garden yesterday, potting up and on a lot of subjects I’d been ignoring in the cold frame over the winter.  Red, pale pink and purple penstemons, plus lots of box cuttings.  At the front of the house, I had a go at all the shrubby and herbaceous subjects we planted after we had the poxy leylandii cut down.  We’re not for the moment violating next door’s airspace, but will need to keep an eye on things so that Annie’s lavenders may stand a chance.

I’d yet to find a reason to wish the Rt Hon First Lord of the Treasury long life and good health, until the nomination of his substitute in case of incapacity.

A decision

After we’d pretty well emptied the social diary, the penny finally dropped that the hobby was a potential source of contagion.  For one reason or another, we are both at somewhat higher than average risk should we get a dose of the lurgy, so, since I was due to retire anyway four months hence, it would be irresponsible to perpetuate any avoidable risk of bringing the infection home.  I’ve brought the retirement schedule forward.  To today.

So yet another excuse for non-gardening bites the dust.  A lot of the seeds sown on Tuesday have already germinated, and I did some serious hacking down yesterday.  Less gardening today.  It has been drizzly, and I’ve had to spend the odd moment finding le mot juste to give effect to my decision.

It being the vernal equinox today, the weather should help to lift the spirits.  The grass has had its spring treatment today, and we’re hoping it will soon be dry enough to get out there and garden other than from the paved surfaces.  But if it’s the indoors programme, there are plenty of abandoned canvases that need a few coats of gesso and new ideas.  Inspiration is another story, of course!

And now for something completely different

We’re used enough to prime ministerial self contradiction, but this time he probably has his advisors to blame.  The official advice is still full of shoulds and oughts, the schools, pubs and restaurants remain open, and policy seems to rely on common sense and civic responsibility.  (Like we saw in the EU referendum, some might say, ironically or otherwise.)  Contrast with our old enemy outre-manche, which has closed everything that justifies less than life or death public access.  My friends in France may only leave the house once they have completed and signed a form certifying that they are doing so for one of five permitted reasons: work (and then only if it is certified impossible to telework), food shopping, medical attention, care of family members or exercise (NOT organised sport) of self and doggie close to home.  The consequent fines are hardly likely to fund the increased cost of health care, and I shudder to think of the consequences of thus diverting the flics from their proper job, but at least the signal is a strong one.

Here we are seeing our diary empty steadily of stuff involving Other People: art group and German conversation suspended, bird watching tour and the CAB quiz cancelled.  I usually try to do my Sainsburying when the shop opens, and attempted it this morning.  By the time the doors opened, there was a queue a hundred yards long, and what should have been a mere 20 minute ordeal took more than twice that.  Things are manifestly Not OK.

Fortunately, the weather is good for home-based activity: the laundry is up to date, dried on the line, the grass has had its first slippery cut (the mower started on the first tug of the starter) and I’ve been out in the sitooterie and garden, starting seeds and hacking dead wood out of shrubs.  So, provided we stay healthy, the garden may be the chief beneficiary.  The little magnolia stellata is in good flower, and the pink Susan variety is showing colour.  I’m keeping fingers crossed in the hope that seed saved last year will germinate, not only with a view to populating the garden, but to flogging more seed for charity in the autumn, if last year’s customers’ seeds also come through.  I suppose that’s the main benefit of gardening: it keeps one focused on the medium to long term

Interesting times

Hard to know whom to listen to these days as the lurgy continues its natural progress.  Governmental vacillation is to be expected (perhaps more so under current regimes) as too is stock market fluctuation.  It prompts me to wonder, and not for the first time, who in the world would design a system that runs the world’s economy on the basis of the whims and fancies of these self-serving punters?  Would you run your company on the basis of sentiment alone?  Cos that’s what seems to govern the economy.  I’m glad I’m old.

We’re almost enjoying watching the nation’s shopping behaviour.  Fortnums were rationing R-swipe to three packs per customer last weekend, and Waitrose and Sainsbury were cleaned out thereof.  As a friend remarks, all this stockpiling just adds a fire hazard to the risk of infection.

Add two almost entirely wasted days at the hobby this week, and you’ll understand why my already jaundiced Weltanschauung is just about at its darkest.  We were both a bit sniffly on Thursday, so cancelled the art gathering: although our symptoms don’t correspond to those of the current lurgy, we don’t want to compromise our fellow daubers’ immune systems.   Various other engagements have been cancelled, notably the CAB Quiz, which is a shame, since it’s an evening we always enjoy.  We are due to go on a a cruise in early May, but expect that too will be cancelled, and in any case, if they don’t, we will, knowing how we tend to pick up some bug or other on cold weather cruises.  Shame, since I’ve always wanted to see the fjords.  Another time, maybe, although a strong lobby is building in Norway opposing cruise ship visits to the fjords, and at least two of our planned ports of call aren’t letting cruise ships disembark passengers and crew for the time being.

But.  The magnolia stellata out the front is coming into flower, the iris sibirica has started into growth and many primulas continue to delight the eye.  I’m always glad to see the cowslips and primroses in the spring, and their cultivated cousins are doing extremely well.  I squelched up the garden the other day to hack back the hydrangea, and had a go at the new penstemons while I was in the area.  All are budding up nicely, as, of course, are the roses.  I see lots of flower buds on the spiraeas, but also quite a bit of die-back, so that will need attention.  The apple tree is budding well despite the mutilation I visited upon it a few weeks ago, so it’ll be interesting to see whether it continues in its biennial habit. We had a lot of fruit last year....   There are a lot of camellias in flower hereabouts, including ours (though we wish our landscapers had thought to get us a red one).

March. Phew.

The best that can be said for February is that it is mercifully short.  Often the month when we see most snow, this February was wet in diluvian measure, and windy in proportion.  We’ve had a few hail showers, but in general it has been unusually mild.  The grass has not really stopped growing this winter, but it is still far too wet to mow.  I squelched out this afternoon to do a spot of pruning and tidying up, and was rather nervous about losing my footing.

I now have the rota for my last few months at the hobby, and am grateful that I have only two more journeys to make to the county town.  I stand a fighting chance of getting home in daylight from both of them, which is a relief.  I’m starting to find a full day a bit tiring, and the drive home against oncoming headlights is not something I relish.  Even in good conditions last week, my outward journey took the best part of an hour and a half.  ‘Ad enuf of this.

Road conditions in general are going from dreadful to simply dire: where there aren’t roadworks, there ought to be: driving is a constant struggle to avoid the potholes.  We’d to drive into the outer London outskirts last Friday, and even the trunk roads are in an appalling state.

Still, the signs of spring are encouraging.  The camellia is in flower, and there are nice fat buds on the magnolias.  Lots of tulips are poking through the surface, and I think I see some fritillaries as well.  Although some of the early rhododendrons are flowering elsewhere in the neighbourhood, ours is not there yet.  Both plants have plenty of buds, and the hydrangeas are coming along nicely as well.  And the days are getting noticeably longer, thank goodness!