Spring ctd.

Pleasant drive yesterday for lunch at a pub in a nearby village, with lots of new green foliage to admire as we went.  Quite a bit of flooding along the way, and there were sandbags near the door of the pub and quite a lot of standing water outside in the street.  Decent food, and splendid company with Celia and Andy.  They sent us home with a pot of French tarragon, which is now in a decorative pot ready to delight us later in the year.  

There was also some gardening traffic outwards.  We got Ben to split a huge iris sibirica last year, and the clumps have just been lying on the soil since.  They had started to sprout, so we’d to decide what to do with them: we already have a lot of them in the garden, so could accommodate only two more at a pinch.  I bagged up another six and put them out at the front with a ‘free’ sign on a stick.  Within 24 hours all six are off to new homes. It’s nice to think that, over the years, we have shared a lot of favourite subjects with friends and neighbours: one of the pleasures of gardening.

What a difference some sun makes!

After a succession of wet, windy days, I awoke on Monday to see sunlight round the edges of the blind, so sprung into action a little earlier than my rather relaxed usual.  By mid morning a couple of loads of laundry were spinning round in the breeze.  By lunchtime I’d walked down to the village to get some cash for the cleaners, and weeded the flower bed closest to the house.  By supper time the grass was cut.

Sad to say, the wet, windy weather was back on Tuesday, and so was my usual idleness.  As I write, Wednesday looks pretty dreich again.  Still, things look better indoors: our second lot of new curtains arrived late on Tuesday, so the dining room is looking much better.  I think I’ve chronicled the travels of the old curtains: Paris, Neuilly, Levallois, Ixelles, Dübendorf and Lagrasse before they arrived here in Disgustedville.  They may move on again, but for the moment their next destination is a carton in the loft.

An English Spring

The weather has been cold, windy and occasionally wet - drizzle, hail and sleet - so not really gardening weather, and it’s expected to get much colder in the coming days.  I’ve been trying to get some work done on the better days, and think the rose pruning is finished.  The grass has had a first cut and the cornus is cut down to encourage new colourful stems for next winter.   The weeds are taking over, of course, so it’s a good job that gardener Ben is coming to the end of his winter projects, hence about to start the care and maintenance rounds again.

We have a pretty good germination of tomatoes, and they have not protested at being moved from the seed tray to their first pots.  It’s a bit early to be thinking about beans, so we’ve a bit of time to clean up the raised bed and get a few more poles up.  Not sure what else we’ll be growing this year.  We’ve decided to give potatoes a miss: they’re a bit much like work.

It’s the time of year when the bulbs are starting to go over, and we’re starting to see new growth on subjects that go dormant.  The magnolia stellata at the front is in glorious flower despite the wind and rain, and the white camellia is also doing well.  The pink one at the back continues to sulk, so I think we may move it somewhere else and see if it does better.

Not sure what to make of politics in the land of my birth.  The party of government seems to be imploding, so I hope Labour has got its ass into gear before the Holyrood elections.  Darn Sarf, the latest Prime Minister seems to be making a slightly better fist of things than his predecessors, but he has not halted the undignified slide into populism.  The ‘Stop the Boats!’ slogan is beneath the dignity of any decent government, when what is needed is an orderly method for asylum applications.  The huge majority of asylum applications succeed, but they take far too long to process.  But there is no effective channel for asylum applications from outside the country, and no legal entry route for applicants.  The thing to remember, of course, is that immigration figures for those the country desperately needs vastly outnumber the poor souls trafficked into the country on small boats.  For example, during a recent stay in hospital, very few of the lovely people who looked after me were UK born and bred.

Claire Smith’s bequest finally came through, some six weeks after I presented the cheque.  One pair of new curtains now hangs at the front room window, and matching cushions adorn the suite.  I had originally planned to give the whole amount to my favourite local charity, but as it came to more than I expected, I opted to give us a tangible reminder of Claire’s generosity.  And in any case the charity will be able to claim as Gift Aid roughly the amount we’ve spent on the curtains.

Oh, and another sign of Spring: Mr Blackbird spends much of the day at the very top of the tallest tree, broadcasting his melodious message.

February ends

The last week or so of February has been cold and windy, so the garden has not had the attention I’d been hoping to give it.  Though the bush roses are pruned, the climbers need pruning and tying back, and it won’t be long before the cornus needs hacking down.  Still, the tomatoes have germinated nicely in the heated propagator, and I’ll have a poke through the seed box one of these days to see what else we can get started.  The bulbs are starting to provide some colour at last, and we have replanted the basket at the front door with bright coloured primulas.

It’s early days, but there are one or two encouraging glimpses of sense in the world of politics.  Don’t quote me.

Meanwhile, Claire’s legacy has still not found its way to my bank account, over six weeks since I presented it.  The Bank of America says it has been cashed, so either Barclays or the Metro Bank are sitting on it.  Another beneficiary has received her legacy, but I think hers was with her bank about ten days before mine.  I’ll be patient for a little longer…. [LATER: The Metro Bank must have been reading my blog: within hours, the amount was showing in my account.  Long-promised transfers have now been made, so I’m hoping Claire’s kind gift will soon be put to good use.]

February

We tend to dread February, but it isn’t all bad, as I said yesterday.  It has been another of those fine, mild February days (after overnight frost) when we could probably have sat outside for lunch.  As it was, we sat and had our soup in the sitooterie while the cleaners beavered away elsewhere in the house.

As planned, the tomatoes are sown in the hot bot propagator.  Six Sweet Olive seeds as usual, and twenty San Marzanos, so we have a couple of spare seeds of the latter, having used one 24-cell tray.  I’ve pruned another five roses, and Martyn has taken a few more bits off the apple tree, both of us working in shirtsleeves.  I’ve also pulled out a lot of bittercress and grass from the rose border.  It’s early days, but as you can see below, it’s not only the weeds that are getting their ass in gear.

It ain’t all bad

It’s a bit sad to acknowledge what brings a degree of satisfaction these days.  Yesterday, it was a couple of loads of washing dried by the sun and breeze.  Today it was a bit of pruning out there in the sun: four roses are, I think, definitively pruned for the season, and the apple tree is no longer encroaching on the raised bed quite so much.  I’ll press on with the roses as weather permits.  Meanwhile I’ve brought the propagator in and am warming some compost ready for tomato seeds: Sweet Olive as usual, and San Marzano.

A couple of bits of good service lately.  On Saturday, the postie (not our usual Marcin) rang to deliver a packet for Martyn.  I asked whether there were any letters, since I had a hospital appointment the following evening, and hadn’t had the instructions.  Bless his cotton socks, he said he’d check at the sorting office (some miles away) and bring anything he found.  A bit later, there he was with the letter, and couldn’t be persuaded to accept a can of beer.  

Today, on instruction from the cleaners, I went in search of window-cleaning glop.  Nothing in Fortnums, so I had to try Sainsburys next door.  Not finding anything, I asked a chap who was busily replenishing the tea bag shelves, and between us, we still didn’t find anything.  Just as I went to leave, he rushed out with a bottle of the necessary.  I suppose people are keen to help the elderly and fragile…

New Year’s Resolution fulfilled

We have been saying for ages that it was time to get a cleaner.  Annie next door had recommended the mother and daughter team who clean for her.  Having had to stand down a cleaner introduced by a friend, we were reluctant to risk a similar embarrassment again.  But time marches on, and right at the moment I’m not up to a lot of housework.  Anyway, they went right round the house today in an hour and a half, and we look pretty respectable again.

How good to see the days lengthening!  It’ll be a while before the garden’s up to much, but the crocuses are showing colour, and the snowdrops and daffodils are in bud.  We have a few pansies and primroses in flower, so things are getting started.