There has been several sunny, not-so-cold days here and there, and when that happens, I am out in the garden cheering on the pallid buds in the daffodil bed. Ten years ago, when arriving at our new home, I began to frame the veggie beds with roofing tiles found heaped in a corner. They have served many a purpose, from preventing our trampling over the planting area, acting as slug/snail traps, allowing the securing of horticultural fleece, and adding a decorative touch.
But they do crack and splinter, needing to be replaced. So out comes the handcart on which the broken tiles get loaded. It is rolled down the garden's length for them to be stacked behind the wildlife area.
Peas need to be planted as early as possible in our climate since it will be too warm for them to flourish by the end of April. Hence the winter mulch of chipped bark (processed by The Calm One) has been raked to the ends of two beds and the earth spaded. Within a week, the peas will go into the ground and be covered with horticultural fleece which will protect them from freezing temperatures and being eaten by the birds .
Of the fifteen, old fruit trees in less than pristine shape present when we arrived, only a few have survived from being uprooted in storms. One is a purple plum. Another is a peach tree. These two need to be doused with copper (powder mixed with water) each winter twice to prevent leaf curl. The first spraying has been done on a windless, above-freezing-temperature day.
The ivy has set a feast of berries for the birds.
Though I passionately deadhead, I do leave some blossoms to dry on their stems, like this patch of blue asters for their fluffy, white, burst seedpods and as a mulch to protect their roots.
There may be a dearth of colourful flowers, but not of bark, as in this deutzia with its striated tones of apricot and burgundy.
Both the rhubarb and asparagus are putting out buds.
Another flowering plant that escaped my deadheading shears, is a tall sedum (Autumn Joy).
At its base, is a curvaceous cluster of young fleshy leaves.
À la prochaine!
But they do crack and splinter, needing to be replaced. So out comes the handcart on which the broken tiles get loaded. It is rolled down the garden's length for them to be stacked behind the wildlife area.
Peas need to be planted as early as possible in our climate since it will be too warm for them to flourish by the end of April. Hence the winter mulch of chipped bark (processed by The Calm One) has been raked to the ends of two beds and the earth spaded. Within a week, the peas will go into the ground and be covered with horticultural fleece which will protect them from freezing temperatures and being eaten by the birds .
Of the fifteen, old fruit trees in less than pristine shape present when we arrived, only a few have survived from being uprooted in storms. One is a purple plum. Another is a peach tree. These two need to be doused with copper (powder mixed with water) each winter twice to prevent leaf curl. The first spraying has been done on a windless, above-freezing-temperature day.
The ivy has set a feast of berries for the birds.
Though I passionately deadhead, I do leave some blossoms to dry on their stems, like this patch of blue asters for their fluffy, white, burst seedpods and as a mulch to protect their roots.
There may be a dearth of colourful flowers, but not of bark, as in this deutzia with its striated tones of apricot and burgundy.
Both the rhubarb and asparagus are putting out buds.
Another flowering plant that escaped my deadheading shears, is a tall sedum (Autumn Joy).
At its base, is a curvaceous cluster of young fleshy leaves.
À la prochaine!
