Pagan Shit Thing / Weedin' & a Seedin'

June has been a frenetic month. Principally I have been weeding as one possessed both in our garden and on the allotment, when the rain allows. The rewards? Seeing a poppy the colour of russet and the softness of taffeta, the steady growth of the hostas, the hollyhocks (now the slugs have left them alone) and the sunflowers. Although I had moved three of them and learned very quickly that I shouldn't have. They almost instantly shriveled. To say I was gutted was an understatement, but luckily they have rallied and lost only a leaf or two. The poppies are coming along as are the corncockles. My favourite nasturtiums have made a small but spritely return too.

Thrown into the mix are aquilegia which I have sown in the seed bed, foxglove FOXY MIXED (according to the seed packet) which I have sown near the southernmost apple tree, and in a bodged propagator (tin and cling film catastrophe) some lavender (Hidcote Strain for those in the know). This will eventually be transplanted under the conifer.

Paid a brief visit to the dome at Parsley and Cakealot's and it's looking damn fine, as you can see for yourself. The acoustics in there are amazing - as is the warmth. Though this isn't so great when the cats get in and leave odorous presents. HAHA! There are still a few panes remaining to be put in and then the dome will be fully complete. An amazing achievement for G Unit.

Another recent addition to the allotment was the eponymous Pagan Shit Thing - basically a frame for our runner beans. It gained the glorious title for being an uber bodge job - but totally economical as Parsley and Cakealot used sticks from our plot to support the frame. A touch of ferocious digging (mostly on the part of Cakealot as I was cream crackered from weeding beforehand), sealed the deal. We planted the beans on both sides of the precarious lean - to and marvelled at a bodge well done.

Inclement weather and a seven day shift kept me away from the allotment. When I went to weed last Friday I was greeted by a meadow. Luckily Cakealot had pointed out where I should weed and what not to pull out in haste - namely beet root, red and white onions. Moma mia! Did I get my hands stung by nettles! They're still tingling from a good session Cakealot and I had a few hours back. The plot looks a lot tidier now, we're about two thirds through weeding. The potatoes are almost ready to come out as some have flowered, we're one of two or three plot holders to have this honour!

More weeding tomorrow if the weather holds up. Watch this space!

Albert’s Spring Garden

What an amazing few weeks, though not without their worries. Let me expand.

So much is happening in the garden at the moment I can barely keep up. We have bluebells, whitebells, poppies, ferns, sunflowers, hosta, corncockles, hollyhocks, geraniums, forget me nots, daisies, lady’s mantle and roses. Some of course are still emerging, some are in full bloom.

My netted seed bed has worked a charm, but the slugs have succeeded where evil face – aka Tad Wilder’s much less charming feline cousin, has failed. They have been eating the sunflowers and some of the corncockles, and they’ve demolished two or three of the hollyhocks. This has lead me to the unfortunate (depending on how you see it) use of slug pellets. One day after putting them down I was astonished to see how many slugs had been emerging for their diurnal feast. It wasn’t pretty.

What is pretty is the salvaged hosta, which I planted last year under the elder tree. It died back very quickly after I’d bought it so I’d given it up for dead. However after some serious weeding I discovered it, a little slug eaten, but the broad dark green leaves were otherwise fine. It has been relocated along with the mystery fern just under the conifer. Safe as houses. For now.

The gernaniums, which suffered a trampling from Friendly Fred, the chocolate coloured Labrador, have bloomed. Last year the daisy had one flower. This year there

are over thirty!

In the seed bed, the sunflowers are growing steadily. Another mystery plant/weed which I mistakenly took for a sunflower, is growing slowly. I will post a picture soon and see if anyone knows what it is.

Poppies too are sprouting up in abundance, and the corncockles, which, idiot that I am, I planted in rows, are doing just fine.

The viburnum cutting is growing nicely, the wild strawberry plants have flowered (I hope we get some this year) and sycamore junior has emerged again. In short, this garden is amazing and it is progressing towards plenary awesomeness.

Peace.

Hoochie Coochie Man / Reg / Project Solardome Part One Million

Sat here in this tropical heat, it is hard to imagine a better time to be writing my blog. Everything is properly coming into life, just to my right is a wonderfully hairy poppy, next to it a mysterious type of fern and a rediscovered hosta. More on this in a separate blog. What I want to tell you about, avid followers, is the curse of the hoochie coochie man.

I am of course talking about cooch grass. There is so much of the stuff it reminds me of the blackberry bushes from last year – the abundance, the unfettered abundance of the stuff is maddening. It’s hard work pulling it out too. Sir Cakealot and I were jousting the ground with forks for all we were worth, and then pulling it out in handfuls. Trouble is it kept snapping, which meant more hoochy coochy for the future. To that end the bagged stump chippings came into play. We poured out approximately half of the chippings over the forked and (partially) cleared areas. We then raked it in. Sir Cakealot went ballistic as the photo testifies! We then recovered the area with carpet, to leave for next year, where hopefully the cooch will all have broken down.

In the process I met a sweet old man called Reg. He was partially deaf so we were both talking very loudly. I loved the way he said ‘You’ve got to watch out for them weed seeeeeeeds,’ he grinned as he said it, flashing a majestic gold crown. ‘Do they call you Teddy?’ he asked me after I told him my name. No Reg, not enough people call me Teddy, Howard, yes, Oregano, yes, but not Teddy. Maybe that’s for my later years.

Weeds are running rife amidst the potatoes, the onions, basically all over. It will be the work of many patient years to fully regain control of the land. It always seems insurmountable. But we always overcome. G unit!

Also in the mix is Project Solardome, now in stage one million according to Parsley. Over four days her and a friend constructed the extremely intricate nexus of beams for the glass. It becomes ever clearer that our team is divided thus: Parsley is the mastermind, Cakealot is the nurturer and I’m the work mule.

The dome looks absolutely amazing, and it’s not even finished yet. I am so excited for the final result.

Sunshine. Suits me fine!

The Lucky Lackey

'Everything you ever do in your life involves bending. I just never noticed it before did you?' - Parsley

A classic statement from Parsley, who on account of her pregnancy, can't bend as much or lift heavy objects without getting jousted by an irate Sir Cakealot (the father). It has been a few days of heavy lifting and labour - hence the title of this particular blog entry. As Parsley and Cakealot had called me their lackey - I added the lucky part. Because, I do still feel really lucky to be doing this, and to be a part of shaping their amazing garden; to be a part of shaping the allotment and to visit eccentrically peopled gardening shows, amongst other things.

As Parsley's parents were preparing the foundation for the solar dome (see pics attached), it left me to move several bags of wood chippings - all that remained from the stump. There was somewhere in the region of fifteen / seventeen bags - most of them power load (heavy). I took them all over to the allotment in the course of two days and about five visits, one with Cakealot. The chippings will be used to suppress weed growth once we've removed the cooch grass or as much as possible.

We had covered most of the plot with carpet and plastic, with some areas fully treated with glyphosate - others not. The result was some areas of clear soil, others teeming with weeds. It's ongoing, and as Cakealot said from his throne in the garden yesterday - 'I can't relax there, there's still too much work to be done.' It's good agitation, if that makes sense, because it keeps you moving and tinkering. I never would've thought we would have got this far, this soon; it has undoubtedly come as a result of larger committed tasks / jobs that have taken all day - see the petrol strimmer entry, and smaller intimate fifteen minute excursions. Everything counts.

Oh and Cakealot and I have started to move a giant hump of soil from behind the solardome foundation!

To summarise it's been an exciting few days. Here's the highlights :

1. Eric aka King Smethwick going ballistic with a roll of string, becoming entangled and doing two somersaults, then running next door.
2. An unintentional matching outfit catastrophe with Cakealot and I - namely the classic white t shirt and blue jeans look. This lead to camp posing with forks and spades, sneering comments about us looking like BROS and many, many Diet Coke break moments.
3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JvHroG3u5E Me singing this, much to Parsley's irritation.
4. Faux Michael Caine accent from yours truly - everything from picking up concrete chippings (Parsley has us doing the most ridiculous things), to PLOP BIRDS.
5. Things blossoming, growing, becoming beautiful. Even the two heavily weakened apple trees in our garden have flowered well this year.

Back to it! There's still lllllloads to be done!

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.