Thursday, 31 December 2020

Goodbye 2020

Sunset 31 December 2020

Goodbye 2020, the year nobody has loved.  As chance would have it, the last day of the year seems to have been trying to make up for the previous 364 days – a lovely winter’s day, bright, sunny, calm and cold, with snow lying (patchily) on the ground.  We made the most of it by going for a walk.

Out for a walk

On Monday last we awoke to find a couple of inches of snow over everything; at least it was an improvement on a couple of nights previously, when Storm Bella swept through, with torrential rain and gales.  The snow continued intermittently and mostly lightly that Monday and part of Tuesday, and it stayed cold; there was a slight thaw on Wednesday, clearing snow at least from places where the sun managed to reach, but the local roads remained too icy for us to feel like venturing out.  Today, despite the sun, it has been too cold to improve the situation.  So all that food in the fridge has proved useful after all; no shopping until after New Year!

The garden, Monday morning

Thinking back over the year’s weather, the main events in my memory are a stormy February, a warm, dry and sunny spring followed by a miserable June and most of July, another hot spell in early August, and nothing very pleasant after that, including the wettest October on record. My usual failure to water the potted plants thoroughly enough during the dry spells caused a few losses, and is the likely reason for quite a few other plants not performing well. Those plants that had their feet in the soil did rather better, and the fruit trees obviously enjoyed the weather, as we had a bumper crop of apples, plums and raspberries – and much the best pear crop we’ve ever had (six juicy pears).

It was also the year when potting compost was unavailable for months, the result of gardeners panic-buying ahead of lockdown and then suppliers being closed; and apparently seed merchants were so inundated with online requests that deliveries of seed orders were taking ages to arrive (although I had all my seeds bought by late 2019 so didn’t have that problem).  On the plus side, thousands of people took up gardening for the first time, having nothing much better to do, and that can only be a good thing.  Let’s hope they continue in 2021!

And now we're back into lockdown.  Well, there's plenty to do in the garden - weather permitting.

Goodbye 2020 – it’s been a rollercoaster, and on the whole one best forgotten.  Let’s enjoy 2021.



Saturday, 26 December 2020

Have yourself a mossy little Christmas!

Even a quiet Covid Christmas inevitably leads to a lot of advance shopping and preparation.  Why, when the shops are open again on Sunday?  I suppose we just follow what we’ve always done.  As a result, there’s so much to do and so little time to get it done.  Hugh Johnson appropriately called it the Season of the Great Too Much, and even with only two of us in the house it’s not so much No Room at the Inn as No Room in the Fridge.  Until Christmas Eve it was also No Room yet Decorated with Greenery, because of other things needing to be done, and because it had been too wet in the preceding days to bring in dry(ish) material to deck the halls with. 

We’ve never got into the habit of having a Christmas tree; instead I decorate the banisters and at least one mantlepiece with greenery, of which there’s plenty in the garden.  This year, having instituted a local online competition for various Christmassy things (best-dressed Christmas tree, homemade door wreath, table decoration etc), I thought I ought to show willing and create my own Christmas wreath. 

Mossing the wreath

It’s a complete DIY wreath.  The only non-natural element is an old wire coathanger which I’ve used to form the initial ring (and to provide a hanging hook).  First step was to bend it into a rough circle (more of a diamond really, but that doesn’t matter too much).  Then I used several long, thin, whippy stems of Buddleja alternifolia (which needs cutting back anyway) to build up the wreath, twisting them around the wire; a few of the thicker ends stuck out, but I reckoned (rightly) that I could work them in during the subsequent stages.  This produced a rather thin-looking wreath – I could have added more buddleja but at that point it started to rain again and I retreated indoors – but next I added the moss, which built it up considerably. 

The moss was easy to come by; there’s more than enough in the lawn to moss up thousands of wreaths.  Ten minutes with the wire rake pulled up a big bagful, of which in fact I only needed half; it made scarcely any inroads into clearing that patch of lawn, but it was enough to please the local robin.  Then I spent a damp and drizzly half-hour in the greenhouse binding it onto the wreath with green garden twine, creating something that looked quite professional except for the slightly wonky shape!

All mossed up

As a base material, I used bits of leylandii from the long hedge.  Just as well that I didn't complete trimming the hedge in the autumn!  It made an effective covering, but I was surprised how tricky it was to get the ends to penetrate the moss.  In my impatience I probably used too-long pieces of leylandii, resulting in them sticking out rather than forming the smooth base that I was aiming for, but it looked not too bad.   I intended to use yew on top to create a slightly more elegant finish, but, having added a few yew twigs, I realised that its habit of growth is rather splayed and spiky and it creates too jagged a profile, and anyway it could hardly be seen against the leylandii, so I didn't bother adding more.  You have to look closely to see the yew at all!

Leylandii (and spot the yew if you can ....)

This dark base then needed some decoration.  Last week we saw a wonderful wreath on a door in Cirencester, decorated largely with brussels sprouts (some would say that it’s the best use for sprouts), looking really good.  I do have sprouts in the garden, but they’re tiny – not much use either for eating or for decorating wreaths.  So, for a highlight, I cut a few sprigs of the variegated euonymus that was a present back in the summer, and which has settled in extremely well, to the extent of now needing some trimming to shape, so it was two jobs in one.  It looks not unlike variegated holly, which is quite appropriate for a Christmas wreath.  

With euonymus....

Then some orange seed-pods of Iris foetidissima for additional decoration.

... and iris seed-pods

The end result looks a little like it’s having a bad hair day, but it does the job!  It’s now hanging on the front gate, wishing passers-by a happy Christmas.

Thursday, 10 December 2020

A cold and frosty morning

The other morning we had the first proper frost of the winter, which froze the water in the bird-bath and blackened the dahlia foliage.  At last.  The dahlias stopped flowering a few weeks ago, but you’re supposed to wait until the foliage dies back before lifting them for winter storage, and they had been stubbornly staying green(-ish) despite a couple of light frosts and a thin covering of snow last weekend (it melted after a few hours in the sun).  I’m now digging them up gradually, though the ones I really want to get lifted are those in pots; I need the pots for the spring tulips! 

I’m wondering whether I should put more of the dahlias in the ground next year rather than having them take up space in the pots.  If we really are going to get milder winters, they will die back later and later, and the tulips won’t have a chance.  On the other hand, they’re invaluable for filling the space in the two really big pots, which need something of substance to make an impact; a smattering of bedding plants just wouldn’t do the job.  Maybe next year I’ll put some in the big pots and plant all the others in the borders, or in one of the veg beds for cutting; the ones in the medium-sized pots didn't flower well this year in any case.

(I also wonder what would happen if I lifted them before they turned black?  Maybe I should do an experiment next year and see; I have plenty of tubers, especially of ‘Bishop of Auckland’, so I could spare a couple, and if they didn’t survive I would have enough of the others.)

Blackened dahlia foliage isn’t very photogenic, so instead here is a picture of my beloved ‘Bishops’ Children’ in full flower (they are now drying off in the greenhouse).  I still have some of the seed, and may sow a few more in the spring; I usually lose a couple of tubers in storage and it would keep the numbers up.

'Bishop's Children' dahlias in their heyday

I’m toying with the idea of moving the pot of gazanias into the greenhouse to overwinter.  They didn’t all flower, but they’ve made strong plants and they have lovely bright sunny yellow flowers.  On the other hand, I still have seed of those too, so I could just grow more in the spring.

Usually I try to overwinter all my half-hardies in the greenhouse, but they take up a lot of space, and as some of the plants are no longer in their first flush of youth I’m not sure it’s worthwhile.   This summer and autumn I took cuttings of the osteospermums and all the penstemons – I read somewhere that penstemons lose vigour after a couple of years and are best replaced – and may well discard most of the parent plants.  The little baby plants will be much easier to overwinter; certainly they will take up less room.  The penstemons might be a good replacement for the dahlias in some of the medium-sized pots in the spring; they could be more easily taken out when it’s time for the tulip planting.  Just a thought.