Me-Me-Me time

No time for me-time recently, or for blogging! - it's that time of year when the garden jobs all start clamouring to be done at once.  Me, me, me, now, right now!  I go out into the garden intending to do one job, and on the way I spot something that needs doing even more urgently.  And in the end I spend the day doing something else entirely that really can’t wait.  Some things on the to-do list have been:

1. Fill bird feeders.  Our regular birds have been busy nesting and feeding youngsters, and the feeders have been emptying quickly as the parents grab some fast food on the go while the little ones do their own ‘me-me-me’.  We have sparrows and starlings in the eaves, a pair of bluetits in the nest box on the summerhouse wall (undeterred by us spending much of our time in there during the warm weather), and blackbirds in a hidey-hole behind some rubbish by the garage (left over from our house improvements and still awaiting a skip for disposal).  A wren seemed to be building a nest in the wall behind the veg plot, but hasn’t been seen for some time; perhaps they decided not to use that one.  The song thrush has been singing long and lustily, probably while his mate is on the nest somewhere, and dunnocks and goldfinches, and of course the robins, call by from time to time.  There are several woodpigeons but no obvious nesting activity.  The blackbirds – possibly another pair, or our nesting pair with an earlier nest elsewhere – had two demanding youngsters being fed on our patio, but sadly neither survived; one was found dead in the front garden, cause not obvious, and the other, a friendly little one who didn’t mind our comings and goings, just disappeared.  The bluetits are now feeding babies in the nestbox, and there are young sparrows around; one of them was carried off one day by a jay – but that’s why they have so many little ones.

2.  Bury the dead baby blackbird.  Finding a suitable spot for burial is never easy; there needs to be enough depth of soil (which rules out several parts of the garden), and a place where I'm not going to be digging for quite some years (I don't really want to be accidentally digging up a carcass).  Ideally I like to put casualties under or close alongside a new planting, so this job was actually an opportunity to address another task on my longer-term 'to-do' list: to try to mask the electricity substation across the road.  This is green, so not too obvious against the hedgerow behind it, but it bears a vivid yellow sign proclaiming 'Danger of Death' which isn't quite what one wants to see from the garden.  The trickiest aspect to conceal is the view from the summerhouse window, which is the whole length of the garden away from the offending yellow sign but the eye is drawn to it along the 'long walk' alongside the leylandii hedge, with the sign visible over the front garden wall which isn't quite high enough to block it out.  What is needed is something higher on our side of the wall, but with the wall to the west and the high leylandii hedge to the south, and the big holly tree overhanging it, it's a seriously dark spot; and there's already a Fatsia japonica there which sadly isn't high or wide enough to do the job.  It recently occurred to me that I might try the offshoot of my Rosa altaica, a creamy-flowered Central Asian species rose, that I potted up a couple of years ago and haven't found a home for; the existing plant survives reasonably well in a shady spot, so it's worth a go.  The fatsia is tough enough to cope with a close neighbour.  After a bit of ground-elder-clearing, both the rose and the blackbird went in, with some protective mulch.  Two jobs done - tick, tick.

White forget-me-nots

3.  Pull up forget-me-nots.  I always leave them in for too long; I’m unwilling to take out plants that are still flowering, but while they have fresh flowers at the top of the stems, lower down they’re already setting seed and they’re just becoming too prolific.  I’ve been trying to be ruthless with them, especially the paler ones; they were originally the dark-blue variety 'Compindi' but they have self-seeded into various shades.  This year some of the plants in the front garden have come up with white flowers, and I’ve shaken some of their seeds in that dark corner under the rose and fatsia, in the hope that some of the seedlings will come true.  I have vague plans for white and yellow plants in there, to lighten things up a bit; it certainly does contain white-flowered plants at the moment, but they're mostly ground elder and Allium triquetrum, two thugs that need to be removed (and that's also on the 'must-do' list) before they take over.
 
4.  It’s not just the forget-me-nots that need taking in hand in the front garden; those narrow beds have been taken over by snowdrops and brunnera as well, in a mad sort of riot; none of them undesirable in themselves, but they're going to proliferate if unchecked and they need taking in hand.  Also, the brunnera and forget-me-nots are mostly indistinguishable – the flowers are very similar – so some rethinking is required there, and something to fill the resulting gap.

5.  Fill the bird feeders again; they've been emptied.  Also refill the bird bath.  It has been quite a dry month on the whole (although we’ve had more rain (and chilly weather) recently), and what with sunny, dry weather and frequent bathing by dusty birds which have been popping in and out of nests, the bird baths have needed a lot of cleaning and refilling.

6.  Dead-head the daffodils, tulips and other bulbs that I don't want to self-seed (muscari and Spanish bluebells, I'm thinking of you....).  I’ve also dead-headed the hellebores before the seed-pods ripen, and the brunnera to stop it self-seeding too much.

7.  Remove weeds.  This is a never-ending item on the to-do list, but there are some that I really need to get on top of before they set seed, either by digging the weeds out or at least by removing the flower-heads and/or seed-pods.  Pressing examples are the speedwell in the veg plot, especially under the apple cordons, and the Allium triquetrum, which is pretty but a terrible thug.  A start has been made on both of these, but there is still work to be done.  Then there are the dandelions in the lawn, and at least here I seem to be winning; over the years I’ve assiduously dug out, or taken the flowerheads off, any plants I could find, and there does seem to be fewer of them this year.  Peering in the rough and weedy grass that passes for a lawn here, I’ve also found our usual orchid plants, and also several twayblades (which are a very unshowy sort of orchid, with minuscule flowers and two rather striking leaves); we had a twayblade a few years back, but I haven’t seen any since, so finding these is a bonus.  All have been protected from mowing until after they’ve flowered.

Potted primulas

8.  Find better homes for plants that have self-sown in the wrong place.  Two primulas appeared in the veg plot, one a primrose (or a very similar hybrid), the other a cowslip-type primula with red flowers.  Both were potted up, popped in an ornamental trough and displayed on the table outside the dining-room window, where they’ve done well and provided some interest even on wet days.  A pulmonaria has produced a few seedlings, which have been potted on and/or replanted in the dark, narrow bed by the gas tank; that strip has been in danger of being taken over by brunnera seedlings and Welsh poppy, and has now been thoroughly weeded.  The variegation on the pulmonarias will provide some lighter tones, but I need to think of some colour for later in the year.  Then there’s the question of what to do about the poppies that have appeared in greater numbers this spring; they’re the classic scarlet field poppies, but larger and more attractive than the little weedy things that I’ve had in the past, and quite garden-worthy in their own way.  They can stay until the ground is needed for the dahlias.

9.  Pot up some Geum rivale.  This grows near the pond where its pale orange flowers complement the blue bugle (Ajuga atropurpureum) well; it had spread wide and I’d been meaning to take it in hand, but this year large parts of the plant have died off, apparently just from old-age.  It’s a good opportunity to reclaim this area and plant it up more appropriately, but I don’t want to lose the geum; it’s an unassuming plant but I like it.

10.  Fill the bird feeders again.

A  well-packed propagator ...

... and potting bench

Nest in the compost bag!

11.  Keep up with the seed-sowing.  I’m trying to be better at this this year, but that’s a subject for another post.  Sowing, pricking out, watering and hardening off takes a lot of time.  This year I’ve sown some seeds in short lengths of guttering in the greenhouse, as so often recommended; carrots, dill, coriander, peas and sugar snaps have all been planted out, and a second lot are nearly ready to go too.  A temporary covering of some fleece allowed the peas and sugar snaps to get their roots into the soil so that they could better withstand being pecked by birds, and they’ve established well.  I put a little home-made garden compost into the planting rows first.  This compost had been decanted into old potting compost sacks ready for use, with the tops loosely folded over to keep the rain out, but there was a slight hitch; when I opened the first bag, whose top had un-folded itself a little, I found a surprise inside …. The nest contained neither an occupant nor any eggs, and fortunately it didn’t seem to be in use; I left the bag so that the top was sufficiently open to allow access but still affording some protection, but when the bag blew open again a few days later the nest was still untouched.  Perhaps it was one of the wren nests; I believe their habit is for the male to build several nests and the female chooses the one she likes best.  (“You want me to nest in that dark, damp plastic bag?  Really?”)  Fortunately there was another bag of compost ready for me to use instead.

12.  Tackle the ivy on the garden wall by the garage.  This was a joint attack by me and the neighbours on the other side, and when we’d finished it was apparent that the wall underneath is in a parlous state.  Some rebuilding needed, and a professional job at that; another warning to keep ivy away from dry-stone walling.

13.  Remove butterfly from greenhouse.  Some greenhouse visitors, bees for example, are good at finding their own way out, but butterflies tend to need a little help.  On this occasion the visitor, a male orange-tip, was eventually persuaded to leave by the door.  I’ve been trying to remember to record butterfly sightings on the Butterfly Conservation website; mostly orange-tips so far this year, with occasional brimstones, holly blues and, just recently, the first small whites, but there have been a tortoiseshell, a red admiral and a speckled wood.  I tend to associate the latter with late summer, but apparently they have a spring brood as well.

14.  And those bird feeders need filling yet again ……

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May

We’ve had just about every sort of weather over the past few weeks.  Early April brought mixed fortunes, including a snow shower that battered a lot of the daffodils, breaking quite a few stems.  Later in the month it was warm and sunny, T-shirt weather, the sort of conditions that tempt you into planting out all your tender plants too early, but I didn’t and it’s just as well; April ended with strong winds and some chilly temperatures, although there was some sun that allowed me to lunch outdoors one day.  We’re now into May with a polar low bearing down on us; yesterday brought wind, rain, thunder and a heavy hailstorm which was particularly unwelcome as I had a lot of seedlings and young plants hardening off outside the greenhouse.  Not too much damage done to them, I think, though the darling buds of May on the outdoor plants are being well and truly shaken by the Shakespearean rough winds.

Mixed day-to-day weather notwithstanding, the general trend has been mild and the growing season is ahead of where we usually are at the start of May.  May 1^st brought the first rose of the year (‘Mary Queen of Scots’ as usual, despite my having started a programme of cutting back her rather rampant growth), the first flowers on the cistus and a posy of lily-of-the-valley to scent the house.  There’s also a couple of borage plants, a nigella, the blue camassias and the wisteria in flower.  Doronicums and honesty are ruling the roost down near the summerhouse; the plum blossom is long past but the apples are now in bloom, and the buds on the aquilegias are starting to show colour.

May Day lily-of-the-valley

Rosa pimpinellifolia 'Mary Queen of Scots'

Tulip 'World Friendship'

The daffodils are gone, except for a rather lovely smallish-flowered white one (variety unknown, it came with the garden) which is toughing it out.  It’s now tulip time.  Nearly all of these are in pots on the patio, although I have a few bulbs saved from previous years’ plantings dotted around in corners, and these have provided a couple of vases for the house (‘Cairo’ and ‘Couleur Cardinal’, I think).  Some of the pots have bulbs from last year, but they haven’t done well; ‘Exotic Emperor’ doesn’t seem to be reliable for a second year, and ‘World Friendship’ came up with just a single bloom, suggesting it isn’t worth keeping either, but shapely and lovely enough to make me want to buy some fresh bulbs for next year.  Another potful of ‘year 2’ bulbs threw up a wonderful combination of the lovely orange ‘Ballerina’ with a dark pink tulip which I think must be ‘Ronaldo’; it’s the sort of colour pairing I would have avoided a few years back, but Sarah Raven is making me appreciate strong colour combos and this one was a winner.  

Ballerinas with Ronaldo

Tulip 'White Valley'

Tulip 'Orange Emperor'

Of this year’s tulips, ‘Havran’ has done well again, with a few ‘Prinses Irene’ for contrast; and the new bulbs of ‘Exotic Emperor’ and ‘Orange Emperor’ also made a good show.  ‘White Valley’ ran ‘Exotic Emperor’ close, though; the flowers were less full, but loose and graceful, on a taller and sturdy plant, with attractive green sepals that held to the petals and almost created the effect of a viridiflora tulip – and it’s even earlier than the Emperors.  ‘Ballerina’ was out at much the same time as ‘Orange Emperor’ and might make a good, and better behaved, alternative.  ‘Black Parrot’ isn’t out yet, and looks as though it’s not going to do much, and sadly ‘Uncle Tom’ hasn’t shown (unless it’s going to be very late) so I may have to dispense with that one in future.  The two varieties that were supplied to me by mistake have surpassed my expectations.  ‘Catherine’ is a lovely, demure pure white, with a classic tulip shape – though I suspect that there are other similar varieties with a better track record.  I was doubtful about ‘Fontainebleau’ from its description; it’s a dark reddish-pink with (supposedly) a white edging, a contrast that doesn’t quite appeal, and it doesn’t have that lovely tulip sheen to it, being quite matte.  However the edging – actually more of a pale pink – is feathered quite nicely into the darker colour, which is very dark in the centre, and a potful of them make a bold statement (though I don't think I'll have them on my wishlist for next year).

Tulip 'Fontainebleau'

On the patio

The pot display on the patio has been particularly good this year, not least because back in the autumn I bought a few winter-flowering pansies from the garden centre and planted them in the bulb pots; they’re doing extremely well (still flowering strongly) and have been excellent value, especially as they were discounted when I bought them.  Some smaller bulbs also went in around the tulips, and have been a mixed bag; the puschkinia and scillas, and the few crocus that survived their summer dormancy, did well, as have the new ipheion (though they’re a bit swamped by the pansies), but Muscari ‘Valerie Finnis’ did nothing.

The season is racing ahead, with the spring flowers nearly over and the early summer ones still to come; I just hope that the rough winds and cold temperatures let up soon!

Coming out of the woodwork

The recent spell of dry, sunny weather - not always warm, but spirit-lifting none the less - brought out a lot of overwintering wildlife and encouraged the wildlife that was already around.  Ladybirds, in particular, have literally been coming out of the woodwork; a lot of them seem to have overwintered behind our wooden windowframes, and have been crawling around and up the glass trying to get out.  I've been directing as many of them as possible into the open air, where they can join their cousins outside; I've seen more ladybirds so far this year than in the past few years taken together, which must be a good sign.  Butterflies have been emerging too; a male brimstone was around over several days, on one occasion with a female (who wasn't interested in mating), and a peacock butterfly also visited, enjoying the sunshine.  And the first hedgehog droppings have been appearing on the lawn.

The gardener was also encouraged outdoors, and not just for gardening; one day I managed lunch outside on the bench, for the first time this year.

Lesser celandine

Visiting bees have had fairly good pickings.  The lesser celandines blossomed in the sun; they're a tolerable weed for the most part, providing cheerful colour at what is often a dull time of year.  The gooseberry bushes have also started to flower, which always attracts the bees, and the pulmonarias were popular with both bees and butterflies.  The early daffodils are starting to go over, but the tulips are beginning to bloom ('White Valley' was first, with 'Exotic Emperor' just behind, though the overwintered bulbs of the latter variety have produced very poor flowers, so I won't bother keeping them when they've finished blooming).  Everything is early this year - a big contrast to last spring!; the lily of the valley was in bud before the end of last month.

A pretty pair of thugs

There are still plenty of daffodils for cutting, and I made a vaseful of Allium triquetrum and brunnera stems: a pair of garden thugs, but quite pretty ones!

The good weather allowed me to get on with several jobs.  The buddleja, like everything else, was well ahead of where it usually is in late March; a lot of the shoots were over a foot long, and it was well time to get the pruning finished.  This, and all the associated jobs, have been done: it always generates a lot of soft and small twiggy prunings which fill the compost bins, so first the bins need to be emptied and turned, and the 'cooked' compost gets used to prepare the runner bean bed.  The long woody prunings have been turned into bean poles, stakes and pea sticks.  Elsewhere in the garden, old top growth left in place over winter has been removed, which always makes the place look more spring-like, and the first cut of the lawn made.  In the greenhouse, seed-sowing has started; although the cold weather isn't behind us yet, the heater has been put away and the propagator turned on, and the cold frame opened up during the day.

Propagator all filled up

However, as forecast, this week has turned cold, with wintry showers and a sharp frost last night; let's hope that the plum blossom hasn't been affected too much!

Plum blossom - before the frost!