Watch the birdie ...

Big Garden Birdwatch weekend, and this year's total was one of my best ever.  The usual suspects turned up, mostly in pairs except for the sparrows (7) and starlings (I recorded them as 12, although there were probably at least twice as many; they had been feeding in a big flock in the field behind us, but were startled by something into taking refuge in the big ash tree).  The coal tit turned up, as did the wren; there were 3 mistle thrushes (probably a pair and an interloper - there was a bit of a scrap) and, to my delight, the goldcrest.  I didn't report the red kite, which appeared a little later, circling over next door's garden.

Although spring is still some way off, the birds are wasting no time in getting ready.  The robin has paired up, although with a mate from elsewhere, not the skinny robin from further down the garden (which occasionally sneaks up to the patio for breakfast when the others aren't looking), and there's a lot of birdsong, mostly robins but also thrushes and the occasional blackbird.  The weather has been rather milder, except for last weekend when we had something of a snow day (only an inch or so of very wet snow which didn't last long), with occasional murk and rain and still windy from time to time; this weekend has been quite mild, and I've had the greenhouse door open during the day.

The relatively mild weather is bringing on the bulbs very well.  The snowdrops and aconites are all out, and the first crocuses and hellebores (H. x hybridus) are showing colour.  There are some daffodils in bud, although experience suggests that they won't actually flower for a few weeks yet, however promising they may look.  The comfrey is also starting to bloom, and there's a fine crop of hazel catkins; the early rhubarb shoots are showing, and at last the autumn-sown broad beans and garlic are starting to come through (I did put them in very late).

Winter aconites

First crocus: 'Cream Beauty'

Double snowdrops

I'm still hunting for the mouse in the greenhouse.  I took everything out other than the plants (having checked that there's nowhere for the mouse to hide amongst them), and satisfied myself that there is no rodent living in there.  I still don't know how it's getting in and out - there's no tunnel and no gap that it could get through - but it obviously is.  I can only assume that it's being beamed in and out by Scotty.  At least I'm confident that it's not going to be shut in; I only hope that it doesn't decide to make a nest in there.  The heating situation has fluctuated a little; the heater, whose thermostat was becoming erratic, finally packed up with a small bang (fortunately I was standing next to it at the time so could unplug it quickly, and also fortunately the weather was relatively mild at the time); its replacement also had a malfunctioning thermostat so was taken back to the shop; and now I've got one that is more expensive but seems to be doing the business very effectively.  My only concern is that the instructions insist that you shouldn't leave it unattended 'for long periods', whatever that means: do they think I'm going to sleep in there?

Hide-and-seek

There's nothing like having a visitor to focus the mind on a good tidy-up.  It was a visitor that prompted me to tackle tidying up the greenhouse, though not quite in the usual way; this wasn't preparation for a visit, but an attempt to find the visitor.  The cooking apples are stored in the greenhouse, and I noticed that something had been nibbling them.  With the obvious exception of the door - which is kept closed at this time of year, other than for very short periods for airing - the greenhouse has no way for intruders to get in; I can only think that something (probably a mouse or vole) has got in when the door was open, finds it a frost-free and safe home with food provided, and has made itself at home.  It looks as though something has been shredding the edge of the bundle of fleece, which would make very comfortable bedding.  But despite having gone through the contents of the greenhouse, I can't find the perpetrator; it's still in there (more apples being nibbled), but I can't think where it's hiding!  My main concern isn't the apples, which are destined to be fed to the blackbirds anyway, but that the mouse will be trapped in there and unable to get out.  A complete emptying out of the greenhouse may be the only way to find it.

Pheasants and partridge

The first couple of weeks of the year have been mostly grey and damp, with some strong winds (Storm Eleanor), chilly but not very frosty and with some fog.  There is colder weather in the forecast.  The mist cleared at times to show a little sunshine, before creeping across the fields again at dusk.  Despite the chill the birds are starting to display signs of spring: there has been more singing, and the robins are starting an uneasy relationship over the food on the patio, presumably with a view to pairing up in due course.  Other bird visitors have been a pair of chaffinches, a female greenfinch (and there's a male around somewhere too), a female yellowhammer and a goldcrest; a wren is about regularly, and a goldfinch appeared today.  The other day a dozen collared doves appeared from somewhere, picking up the droppings from the seed feeder; and five male pheasants and four partridges came in to hide from the local shoot.  Lefty the woodpigeon and his mate are also regulars.  I don't know if they are responsible for the untidy nest in the hazel tree which was revealed by the falling of the leaves in autumn; it doesn't look like the most secure construction and I didn't expect it to last long, but it survived the recent gales, so perhaps it's better built than I thought!

Nest in the hazel tree

A stern talking-to

I’ve stopped making New Year resolutions other than the general “must do better this year” ones; anything more complicated never lasts more than a few days.  This past year I’ve been trying to keep the “must do better” more firmly in mind as I go about my gardening business, and giving myself a stern talking-to as required.  It hasn’t always worked, but I am listening to myself more and more and taking action at least sometimes!  The conversations with myself generally fall into a few specific categories:

1. Weeds

A weed is a plant in the wrong place.  Even if it’s an otherwise desirable plant that would be welcome if it were in the right place.  Get them out, or move them elsewhere.  Yes, even the useful plants.  Yes, that includes the alpine strawberry plants that have been providing little desserts all autumn, and the oregano, even though it attracts bees and butterflies.  There are too many of them and they’re taking up space that ought to be used by other plants.  Decide where you want them and put them there, and weed out the rest; don’t let them colonise other places.  (I’ve been a little better at this during 2017; several plants have gone into the green waste bin.)  You also need to get on top of the lily-of-the-valley that is spreading out from its foothold in the veg plot; get digging!  And what are you going to do about the hypericum that has self-seeded under the osmanthus; keep it, move it or ditch it? – make up your mind!

2. Paths

And on the subject of the strawberries and oregano: they are particularly undesirable when they are in the middle of the veg plot paths.  If they’re in the way in the veg beds, they’re even more in the way when they’re growing in the path and you have to step on the beds to go around them!  Get them out as a priority, and weed the paths so that you can use them properly.  The whole point of a path is that it's a clear space for you to walk on.

3. Be ruthless!

Another aspect of ‘plant in the wrong place’ is the overall planting plan, which contains too many shrubs that have outgrown their welcome.  You planted them far too close to begin with, and many of them are now 20 years old and far, far bigger than you ever envisaged.  The time has come to decide whether to remove some altogether, and to be stricter about cutting back and shaping the others.  You’ve been talking for years about taking out the big philadelphus that hardly ever flowers, but the problem is that it’s jammed in between other big shrubs and you can’t get in there to do anything about it!  The neighbouring Viburnum tinus ‘Gwenlian’ that was damaged by the snowfall recently is a good place to start; cut it hard back (take cuttings first if you must, since it is admittedly a good plant, but where else in the garden would you put additional plants?), then get in there with the pruning saw and do some radical removal.  There are about six big shrubs in that area in a space that a sensible gardener would hesitate to plant up with two, so decide what you’re going to keep and get rid of the others.  And make a decision about the brachyglottis (what used to be Senecio greyii); it has become woody beyond all reasonable hope of redemption, even if the sparrows do love it as a safe place to hang out in, so take it out altogether.  Ok, so you’ve taken cuttings of it, but think very hard before you plant any of them, unless you’re going to keep them well trimmed; after all, you don’t actually like the flowers, so cutting them off wouldn’t be a problem.  Both it and the viburnums could be kept within bounds if you’re rigorous about cutting them back.  And there are other shrubs that need reducing in size (the aucuba, both the osmanthuses, the Buddleja alternifolia ….).  Thinking about the space occupied by the brachyglottis: it’s a space that needs a smallish (NB: smallish! Don’t get carried away) evergreen or evergrey, so a well-shaped brachyglottis would be a possibility, or perhaps one of the hebes, or even another Viburnum davidii.  But only one of those, mind you; don’t even think of squeezing in two or more!

4. Get those jobs done

You’ve been telling yourself for months that you ought to do some discreet tying-in of the columnar yews to prevent their branches from falling outwards as they grow.  And what happens?  We’ve had two big falls of snow, pulling the branches down, and now one of the yews is out of shape.  You still have time to fix it, but get it done before we get more snow.  Likewise the two Viburnum tinus with the branches broken by the snow.  Yes, you will have a lot of prunings to get rid of, but needs must.  And don’t put off lifting and dividing the iris in the pond; yes, it’s a horrible and difficult job, but it will become more horrible and more difficult if you ignore it.  It won’t go away.

5. Labelling

Actually you have been better at this in the past year.  You have finally learnt that you won’t remember which bulbs you have planted in that pot unless you label it, and that you won’t necessarily recognise the contents of small pots, especially in winter if they’re deciduous.  You’ve got labels, so use them!  And, since the pack of labels is running low, get yourself some wooden ones instead and reduce the amount of plastic you’re using in the garden, even by just a little; it all helps.

6. Keep talking to yourself in 2018 - it does work, sometimes!