Albert's Garden of Wonderment

I have been concentrating on mine and David's garden for the last week or so. Mostly this has involved grafting various plants / herbs into different parts of the garden. So, we now have a wee herb bed with some oregano, rosemary and mint next to the barbecue; we have forget me nots by the pond; poppies by the conifer and some ultra tentative hollyhocks planted near the fence.

Additionally I have prepared some natty tins with compost for salad, and will try to grow some of our wild strawberries which always have tonnes of leaves but never seem to grow in their current habitat under the privet hedge where it is mostly shady.

We had a large fern which cut a long soil bed in half, so I cut it into five pieces which have been redistributed around the borders at the bottom of the garden. I hope they take. The viburnum is growing steadily as is the mystery tree / bush thingummy I moved from under the conifer last year. There's still a sycamore there too!

The biggest job was weeding. Around the apple tree toward the bottom of the garden and in the long soil bed aforementioned. I spent the best part of one day weeding - and this was only possible due to fabulous musical choice. As an illustration of what I've been caning my ears to whilst in my garden paradise - we're talking : Bill Withers, Miles Davis, Grime, Drum and Bass, Dave Pike, Billy Cobham, Bonnie Raitt, Simply Red - hilarious!, Brian Eno, Jelly Roll Morton etc. It all goes, in some weird sense. It all gels.

Once the weeding was done I raked over the topsoil and planted a combination of seeds - some bought for my Birthday : sunflower and meadow seeds and some given to me by the redoubtable Parsley after the wedding. I then staked the perimeter and lay down £5 netting - £5! CRAZY PAYMENT, making sure to block the gaps in the fence with nice big square bricks. However, can you imagine my unbridled wrath when I saw a feline sprawled out on my carefully prepared seed bed? Happily lolling in the sun. I was happily running down the garden with every intent on cranking open a can of feline smack down. This self same quadruped used to sit on our apple tree of a morning right above a nest, waiting for the mothership to come out. Red mist, then as now! Pure rage. I have never felt so connected to my garden and its welfare.

Let's see how it all goes. Fingers crossed for a prosperous Spring and Summer. Thus far, things are looking very good indeed.

King Smethwick & The Funky Trunk Transplant

I am sad. I have only the wish to keep working on a) Our garden, b) Parsley and Cakealot's garden, or c) The Allotment. Any time apart amounts to a tugging at the navel, basically I just want to be gardening all the time!

Spring is well underway and already hints at the Summer to come. It will be glorious. It is glorious now. It can only get better.

The other day I was helping at the Masters residence. Parsley came over to discuss plans for our back garden, and believe me they will come to sweet fruition this year! More in a separate blog, if it so pleases. Having done that, we headed over, tooled up and started moving a beech / hazel tree. It lay in front of the raised beds at the back of the garden and needed shifting as it was getting in the way. It would be moved to join some bamboo, which eventually will sit behind the solardome. Cakealot and I were pumping pure python power (what alliteration!) into the removal of the said birch. We dug a sizeable perimeter around the tree so we could get to the root ball, occasionally plucking out bindweed.

I kept digging away bits until Cakealot rode in and jousted the tree cleanly from the ground. It took us both to lift it though, through heaviness but also care. It was then wheelbarrowed over to the fence. We then had to grub and mattock a monster root which was planted deep in the ground. P&C prior to the transplant had called in a stump grinder to clear the way. However these roots were deeper still, and needed some serious hacking. Both Cakealot and I were trembling like poplars by the time we managed to dig enough space to snugly plant the tree.

We ate some of Sir Cakealot's eight hour chili for lunch. Dispelling the common misconception that I never eat veg (and after my own admission of the same) I was eatin' them kidney beans like my life depended on it! So, so needed.

Thereafter there was high jinks from King Smethwick who did his annual trick of lying in all the beautiful Daffs, looking regal and naughty all at once. He actually reminds me of a cavalier, with his cheeky little black beard. Other synonymous folk include Frank Zappa! Come on, the likeness is uncanny!

We started to move the soil back into the hole we'd created, so that it could be re-turfed. It was an amazing afternoon, one with a slight hiatus (I had to go and see my GP for stomach related ills), but then back to work after two doughnuts and tea. In the dying hours of the afternoon, I planted varieties of lavender at the rear of the garden. It was a lot of work, like the old times (that is last year). And as ever, I want more. I am sad.

(Not so sad. Parsley came out with another classic mishearing. Dialogue goes like this :

Oregano : 'Haha! Look at that! Two blackbirds fighting mid-air!'

Parsley : 'Plop birds?'

Oregano : 'What?!'

Parsley : 'You said plop birds.'

Oregano : 'No I didn't I said blackbirds. Hang on a minute PLOP BIRDS! [sarcastic and insanely false laugh] Watch out for those plop birds.'

Crazy paving!

Bastard Trenching & Narcissus Pseudonarcissus

Last week I dedicated a healthy portion of Thursday and Friday to the allotment with Cakealot and Parsley. On the Thursday I was digging a trench around the outside of the plot so the rainwater could drain off properly. How unfit I am. My rapidly dwindling energy left me feeling like a rag doll before lunch. So much so I had a power snooze when I got back. It barely helped! Where was the Greek god physique of last year? Why were the pythons asleep in the grass? Especially when there isn't any grass left?All the same I worked as hard as I could slopping out leaves, mud and twigs to see that precious trickle of water lead to the drain...Immersive.
Parsley and I were also weeding the brilliantly titled cooch grass (sometimes known as Witch grass, Twitch or Quack grass) - the bane of any gardeners existence, along with Mare's Tail. Not so brilliant in that there are still legions of it in the soil. Once we had dug as much of it out as our backs would allow, we raked over the topsoil and Kate sprinkled blood fish and bone fertilizer in preparation for planting the potatoes.Came home feeling like I'd been shot. This is one of the most rewarding elements of working outside. I love the dull ache that sits in my muscles. It feels like VICTORY.

A new visitor to the allotment was a furry flame by the name of Monterey Jack. If I find out in the future that it's a female, rest assured her name will be Monterey Jacqueline. MJ was a strange one, always rolling about, running up to you then legging it. Thus far we have three (garden related) amazing cats - Tad Wilder, Gigasmethick, and Monterey Jack. For your viewing pleasure here they all are in one place :

What a trio!

On the Friday Cakealot started digging some serious trenches for the potatoes. It took me four times as long to dig a trench! Now whilst this wasn't strictly bastard trenching it was a bastard on my back and knees and legs. It started raining pretty heavily so digging became even more difficult. WEAK! However, six - seven rows of tatties were prepared, taking up most of two plots - which of course means us having to dig more and more! We still have plenty of space left.

Parsley planted some of my surplus daffodil bulbs at the bottom of the plot as they'd started to sprout in the bag. Remember my blog of September 13th fame? Well, my daffs have come out but some of them are already dead, which breaks my heart - seriously! However my (now) favourite Narcissus Pseudonarcissus have come out in all their pale glory - I am looking out at them now. I am smiling.

Project Solardome Part 1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5dy553E_oa0

Let's get that one out of the way for starters! Project Solardome!

I was up at 6.30 on Saturday morning, feeling raw as a potato, having had about three hours sleep - part excitement, part insomnia, part Czech rum. Parsley and Cakealot were equally ko'd when I went over to eat a vegetarian breakfast at their DOMEstead. So many changes this year.

We didn't get started proper until around nine, when the redoubtable Alex Johnson came in his Boratmobile - a beautiful mustard VW van, replete with tools. Same went for P&C. It was proper heist territory - glass suckers, stanley knives, power drills, rope; the works. We headed out to Lincoln, getting a bit lost, paying an extortionate amount at a toll booth, with me sleeping in the back seats. 0 stamina and endurance. But that was to change.

Rolled up to the house around 12. The dome was tucked away in the back garden / yard - betwixt a telegraph pole and a privet hedge. The owner was hilarious : a purple faced loon who called his cat Mum. We kept hearing him periodically coming out of the house saying 'Hellllllooooo Muuuuuum!' It took us a while to work out what was going on.

The dome itself was very impressive. In the photos it looks fairly small but I assure you the effect is quite the opposite. A dead robin was a bad omen! So be it. Parsley talked with Alex

about how we were going to go about taking it down (start from the top and work your way down - I guarantee I'd have messed this up if left to my own devices). Then she numbered all the glass panes - 120 if I'm not mistaken - whilst I removed nuts from what I can only describe as metal oysters, then WD40'd a load of nuts on the inside for later, coping was removed, I was as ever clueless and needed directing.

The biggest part of the job was removing the silicone which was holding the glass in place. Palette knives, stanleys, toothbrushes and warm soapy water - everything came into play. Alex and Parsley initially tackled the highest panes, with Cakealot and I scrimping and scraping the lower tiers of glass. Thereafter it was all change. With the first few panes being brought down (the very first cracked, our morale never did) we took some time out to assess the situation and eat. The predicted four hour takedown plan became so much longer.

It was slow work - with a very careful series of readjustments being made to how the glass was stored in the van - lots of bubble wrap and old blankets and an advanced lesson in trigonometry and spatial awareness. All the while purple conk was screaming hello Mam, his yappy dogs were going mental, it was getting colder. Time was not on our side - or rather the light wasn't. Indeed we worked right through to nine o' clock.

Once all the glass had been removed (no mean task), we still had to take down the frame - a colossal geodesic nightmare! I left the boys to that one, taking out the bottom vents / segments that were resting on breeze blocks, and carrying materials, tools etc to the van. The stars were out and I managed to identify Ursa Major. Pat on the back for a manifestly cold Oregano.

This was hands down one of the longest most exhausting days of work I've done in a long time and I did a third of what Cakealot, Alex and Parsley did. Yet, I loved it. I would do it again and I would recommend GEODESIC SOLAR DOMES to everyone. Do I want a unique geodesic focal point in my garden? Yes please! Do I want practical applications and benefits for my plants and veg? Yes please! Do I want to wake up the morning after helping transport a solardome, feeling like I've been shot? Yes please!

Remember this is only part 1. There will be many more to follow, as so far we have only transported it from Lincoln to the domestead. Weeee!

Adendum: A few years back Minda and I came up with a list of dome related puns. Four pages of A4 were filled. Here's a rundown of some of the better ones :

chrome dome

Big Trouble in Little Dome Town

White Men Can't Dome

Obi-Wan ka Dome Me

Dome2D2

System of a Dome

Domeformers

Home Adome

Buffy the Dome Slayer

Eastenddome

Dome and Away

Somebody answer the bleedin DOME

Die Another Dome

Dome White and the Seven Domes

Etc!

Project Daffodil / Viburnum

I am extremely excited. Project SOLARDOME is but a few days away. I'm not saying any more until after Saturday, but good times for good people - they are coming.

The daffodils are emerging. If you cast your eye back to my Blog in September, I was paranoid I wasn't doing it properly; those juicy lean green stems speak volumes to the opposite, however.

There are some other tentative growths too, throughout the garden. At first I thought they were weeds...but something tells me otherwise. Gardening intuition! Now there's a thought. I was talking to my Charlie and Ben* on Saturday about how my instincts were kicking in and the schematics for the garden were sprouting from my sub conscious! Thank G Unit it's Spring, I feel so much more in touch with things.

Mum and Dad brought me a cutting from their Viburnum tree in January. It's famous for a Dad classic: 'Have you sniffed the tree?' Draw your own conclusions. Anyway, this was planted at the bottom of the garden where I hope it will take nicely. I think there's the option to move it if there's not enough sunlight. So far, more or less everything has taken well, but having come out properly for the first time in many months, I see that everything has died back: it's all sludge brown foliage or leaves as dry as a skeleton. Cycles, yo.

Oregano out. There will be many more blogs hitting this space soon! PROJECT SOLARDOME especially...wow.

Payce. (Peace).

*Flame on!

New Beginnings

February - what a ghastly month it's been already. Thank God for small miracles though - our wicked wicked allotment for one. I've been away for far too long, Jack Frost getting his boot in these past polar months; introspection, short days, long nights, and much Machiavellian brooding to fill a period of time better spent in hibernation.

Took a brief journey down to the plot for the first time this year, and instantly I was reminded of all I've been missing. Jake's been hard at work, creating channels, troughs and bridges across our shared earth.

It's satisfying to see the land take shape after all the preparation that's gone into it. It looks nice and clearly demarcated at the moment but come spring the weeding will commence full steam ahead; time to get the pythons in training. Plus there's still reams of plastic, bottles and cans lying about - it's a constant tidy up mission. But it suits me fine as I'm turning into a CONTROL FREAK! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nG8gF2XcCas. Hats off to those of you who remember that little gem.

Addendum : Apologies to KT for calling her Oregano in my text messages. The stresses of day to day life without the rejuvenating force of gardening has pickled my already demented brain.

Roll on Spring and a much greater output of G UNIT blogs, even if you don't like them! X

Put a Slammin' Burn Up On It!

It has been all too long since I published a post; all too long since I have been on the allotment proper with my favourite green fingered pals Kt and Jake, aka Parsley and Sir Cakealot. One installment for October! Agh, for shame. I've been far too busy pedaling my new novella : Blood & Rorschach - see http://www.insertspace.org.uk/blood&rorschach.htm for more details. That, and suffering from a three week shit storm that was flu, becoming a Godfather...yadda yadda!

It was great to get back on the scene, albeit hungover and badly prepared for a burn up in Cakealot parlance. It was a late October afternoon, and the allotment had transformed from a warm verdant and yellow haven to a colder, yet subtly more beautiful grey, orange and black one. Leaves everywhere, good for mulching - strewn all about. Cakealot raked some up and made a ramshackle leaf bin to join my even more ramshackle composting bins.

Parsley and Cakealot prepared the fire with a pile of thorny twigs and hay that we had raked off on the great strimmer crusade back in September, whilst I ran back to get my gardening gloves, left behind in excitement / forgetfulness. The conflagration was coming on a treat by the time I got back, with me nearly putting an end to it by swamping it with Glypho-hay. It was smouldering mightily - with great gusts of green and blue smoke which lead me to say 'Satan's Nostrils.' Shortly after the fire burst into life.

By turns we stood and admired the columns of flame or kept throwing on the dead branches & c. It was sweaty work, always a bit of a paradox in cold weather. I think the old spirit of destruction was rife. I did a little Native American Indian dance and a verse to dispel Ian's ghost - time's tide has eroded my memory but I know it ended with a line like : 'No more 1664 this day.'

The fire was a beautiful sight and felt like an organic progression in the growth of our plot. Plus the ash that was left over was raked into the recently forked soil, which should be a immense boon for our potatoes which Jake will be planting very soon.

The resident favourite feline Gigasmethick appeared to say hello, reminding me of the manifold charms of an allotment. It just gets better every time. With the imminence of a proper Winter I'm interested to see the changes that will take place. Already I've worked less on the gardening front than I might like, but my interest hasn't diminished one bit. The good old Bulldog spirit - but in my case a wiry Schnauzer. Stay tuned!