I have spent many happy hours browsing the greenhouse advertisements in the RHS magazine The Garden. It was an occasion for grateful thanks for our Hartley greenhouse bought at third hand from an allotment neighbour, assembled from bits and home to our indoor grapevine. We left it up and intact, I do hope our successors are treating it well.
Greeenhouse advertisements, to my mind, are something like the dream kitchens and conservatory spreads you find in glossy magazines. The whole lifestyle is temptingly on view. The premise being: instal this kitchen and all this affluence and luxury can be yours. Alternatively if you really desire a stout greenhouse (as opposed to a solid oak Victorian replica) you could erect this one and hire some chaps to sit on the roof. See, advertising does work - I have remembered the picture though not the brand name.
As far as I am concerned I already have my ideal kitchen. It was probably put in twenty years ago, but it has all the features I need. Likewise I realise that I have the typical aspirational greenhouse at a fraction of a price. Our new greenhouse is filled with the geraniums/pelargoniums that were part of our summer bedding display and are now overwintering. Not a few of these were rescued from the remaindered shelves of the garden centre but are now getting healthy and strong. We have the picture perfect greenhouse.
Wednesday 16 September 2015
Tuesday 15 September 2015
Patching pavers, painting walls, putting up shelves ...
When we first arrived up here in the north west, we did have the occasional speculative visit from driveway companies. The state of our cracked pavers prompted them to offer their services which were quickly and politely declined. We have called in craftsmen where necessary but this was one job my husband wanted to do himself. So after a lot of careful moving and levering of the really badly damaged ones we now have a front driveway which does not invite comment and a bed for some strawberries from my sister's in a sheltered position by the hedge.
Spurred on by his success my husband tackled the back patio and levered out two pavers close to the fence (this was fine with our neighbours). Into this space have gone the two clematis plants we 'rescued' from the stranglehold of our clematis 'Broughton Star'. 'Belle of Woking' and another unnamed cultivar have bedded in well and are putting on new growth in the September sun.
The nights are getting more chilly, however, so that was my cue to remove the dwarf french beans. Off to the DIY superstore for some fence paint and after priming it we now have a lovely shiny white wall along our right hand boundary. We hope to put leeks in this sheltered spot next year.
Inside we prefer to leave it to the professionals. We did paint our newly plasterboarded garage, as our plasterer pointed out, it is a garage, after all is said and done, but we will not be touching the house. After clearing preparatory for painting, some superflous shelving has found its way to the shed. The spirit of allotmenteering is not dead, and my husband is a happy man.
Spurred on by his success my husband tackled the back patio and levered out two pavers close to the fence (this was fine with our neighbours). Into this space have gone the two clematis plants we 'rescued' from the stranglehold of our clematis 'Broughton Star'. 'Belle of Woking' and another unnamed cultivar have bedded in well and are putting on new growth in the September sun.
The nights are getting more chilly, however, so that was my cue to remove the dwarf french beans. Off to the DIY superstore for some fence paint and after priming it we now have a lovely shiny white wall along our right hand boundary. We hope to put leeks in this sheltered spot next year.
Inside we prefer to leave it to the professionals. We did paint our newly plasterboarded garage, as our plasterer pointed out, it is a garage, after all is said and done, but we will not be touching the house. After clearing preparatory for painting, some superflous shelving has found its way to the shed. The spirit of allotmenteering is not dead, and my husband is a happy man.
Wednesday 9 September 2015
Repositioning our raspberries
I feel that something of an apology is in order for some of our soft fruit.
When we purchased our bunch of bare rooted raspberries and our three blackcurrant bushes I should have paused to consider where to position them. Deep down I knew that I had bought too many raspberries. After we had placed the best ones in a healthy spot, my dear husband duly dug holes close to a profuse flowering perennial known as crocosmia (Monbretia) at that stage in its dormant phase and in a somewhat shady small bed bordering our back dining room for the rest.
The crocosmia stifled the raspberries and four out of five survived in a thin and leggy state (I seem to remember the technical term is etiolated). I joked that at least any berries were concealed from the pigeons. My husband determined to dig up and donate the croscosmia corms. They have now found another home.
The blackcurrants also suffered. Their leaves curled and distorted as they were attacked by aphids and they bore very little fruit. One of them has been moved now and as soon as it is appropriate the other will go to join it in a better position. I think a selective pruning is also appropriate.
The raspberries are still in the same place but repositioned against a cleared fence along with some delphiniums that were being crowded by our 'star' clematis. The two other rescued clematis have joined them a little further along the fence. Of which more later.
A 'cottage garden effect', dear readers, is not achieved by shoving surplus plants into unsuitable places, but, however artless it seems, is the result of centuries of experience and careful thought.
When we purchased our bunch of bare rooted raspberries and our three blackcurrant bushes I should have paused to consider where to position them. Deep down I knew that I had bought too many raspberries. After we had placed the best ones in a healthy spot, my dear husband duly dug holes close to a profuse flowering perennial known as crocosmia (Monbretia) at that stage in its dormant phase and in a somewhat shady small bed bordering our back dining room for the rest.
The crocosmia stifled the raspberries and four out of five survived in a thin and leggy state (I seem to remember the technical term is etiolated). I joked that at least any berries were concealed from the pigeons. My husband determined to dig up and donate the croscosmia corms. They have now found another home.
The blackcurrants also suffered. Their leaves curled and distorted as they were attacked by aphids and they bore very little fruit. One of them has been moved now and as soon as it is appropriate the other will go to join it in a better position. I think a selective pruning is also appropriate.
The raspberries are still in the same place but repositioned against a cleared fence along with some delphiniums that were being crowded by our 'star' clematis. The two other rescued clematis have joined them a little further along the fence. Of which more later.
A 'cottage garden effect', dear readers, is not achieved by shoving surplus plants into unsuitable places, but, however artless it seems, is the result of centuries of experience and careful thought.
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