Help in the garden, getting ready for bulbs, lost teeth, stain removal and back to school, list-making joy.

Hello friends!

The weather has cooled, Autumn has arrived, with RAIN and suddenly I am no longer wading through treacle. Lists have been made, boxes have been ticked and my bottom and he sofa have decided to take a break from each other. I’m thankful, because this week I chatted with one of my favourite people on Instagram, Clover Stroud about motherhood, loneliness, joy, and yes, gardening. I always squirm a bit when I watch these things back because I’m so often stuck finding the right words when I speak…(it’s a problem I’ve always had and it’s getting worse…maddening, particularly when one is bickering with ones Rotter) … Anyway, do go and listen if you feel like it and you don’t mind things getting a bit sweary.

Monday

A lovely neighbour messages with an idea to give out bulbs to the street. I so love our street; what a thing to have a few tulips each in our front gardens for everyone to enjoy. It reminds me to make sure I plant some containers up for the front door - nothing could be more cheerful and welcoming. But I have to say no to organising it, because there is an impending sense that I need to stay free and available in case schools close, and also because I’ve gone all antisocial in my September bubble. The joy of freeing myself from any non-essential commitments is quite profound. It seems that the absence of my eldest, who is having the time of her life away at school has simply given the other two some obviously much needed space to monopolise me. And that’s fine - they are five and seven - a fantastically malleable and easy age as they are still mercifully unaware that all they have to do is refuse to play ball for the whole system to come toppling down. I’ve always found it fascinating that these children naturally assume that I am somehow their leader. In my head I am far too young for this responsibility and I haven’t got a bloody clue what I’m doing. I do love the chatter though - I am entirely uninterested in most of it but I’ve worked out that I only have to repeat their last few words back to them in order for them to feel heard (and for me to continue thinking about other things). Today’s school run was all about how big a sponge would have to be in order for it to soak up the entire sea. I DID think briefly that I might take this opportunity to insert some knowledge of different seas and oceans but he never let me get a word in and frankly my geography doesn’t really pass muster.

I get home and pick up the windfall apples, some of which are good enough (if you avoid the larvae) to make crumble with. Crumble is needed because tomorrow is Autumn.

Tuesday

It is the Autumnal Equinox today, and I make a big deal of it as usual with the children. They never remember anything about it but perhaps one day they will. I have been mentally gathering pots for bulbs in my head, and today I begin corralling them together for real, removing their compost (with which I mulch other plants in the borders) and brushing them out. This is the sort of work that looks boring on paper but which I actually find more pleasing than the planting of bulbs itself. Mainly because it is MINDLESS. I adore anything that’s mindless. Anyway, I thought I would spill here on my plans for the bulbs, incase anyone here is doing this for the first time…

My three enormous bulb pots have been requisitioned by ferns, because I had thought that I wouldn’t do bulbs in pots this year. Well, I was wrong, and I’ve changed my bloody mind, etc. I need ALL the tulips, in ALL the pots, right where I can see them to get me through the next six months.

I’ve ordered a mix called ‘Renoir’ from Sarah Raven, and I’ll be cramming them, shoulder to shoulder in at least three but more likely five pots. I’m hoping to have a really fantabulous totally over the top display next year. Take a look at the bulb planting video on the instagram of bulb-master Claus Dalby - an essential watch if you’ve never planted bulbs in pots before.

Wednesday

Joy of all joys! I wake to the sound of soft, persistent rain and a terrace covered in lolloping frogs. Today the garden is having some work done - the paid sort. Things that require me to be precariously teetering up a ladder are above my pay grade and need an expert. The main issue is the beautiful clematis from next door which is threatening to engulf my apple tree. It needs taming. And while I have braun at my disposal, I have naturally made a list because why wouldn’t you?

1. Remove a dead viburnum tinus and prune and shape another one

2. Remove, huge euphorbia mellifera which is in totally the wrong place

3. Remove ivy from two trees (free the trunks and as much as possible into the crowns)

4. Remove rose

5. cut back neighbour's ceonothus

His name is Emanuele. He is here all day. He smokes rollups and disposes of them in his pocket. He calls me ma’am. He does everything on my list and more. He works through the rain. He is unfailingly polite. I am in heaven.

And so is the garden. The trees, freed from their ivy prison are breathing a sigh of relief. Suddenly there is light coming through the apple tree branches, now that the clematis is gone, my view of the garden is exponentially improved by the removal of the euphorbia. Oh, and it’s still raining. All is suddenly much more WELL with the world.

Thursday

More delicious rain.

I get my anorak on and start weeding in the borders, to make ready for the bulbs which I may or may not put there (I honestly may not bother this year). The plum tree that Emanuele freed yesterday is obviously dying and I wonder if we shouldn’t just chop it down and hope for re-growth. I am still reeling at how the garden has been transformed by a little rain (obvs) and THE REMOVAL OF STUFF. The fact that I should most probably clutch tightly to this wisdom and transfer it to other areas of my life (my house, my marriage, my diary to name but three) sits there like a great big fat tabby cat sitting in a sunbeam and purring, eyes almost closed, waiting for me to do the same. And, as if the universe were sending me a message, my instagram opens with a post from one of my favourite people on the internet, telling me that it’s true, I never AM going to read those magazines, or put those old photographs into an album, or wear those jeans that don’t fit me any more…that the most precious commodity I have is my time.

Domino appears with a tooth missing from her mouth. I ask her when it came out and she starts to cry, saying she doesn’t know, worried that the tooth fairy won’t come. I assure her that the tooth fairy comes even if you lose or swallow or drop your tooth down the drain etc. She disappears off and comes back with the tooth. And I realise that she has worked out that I must be the tooth fairy, because it must have come out last night, and she must have put it under her pillow without telling me. Dammit. But I CANNOT be penalised for having wily children. Ugh. She’s playing along though. We wrap the tooth in foil and put it in a safe place and she smiles at me angelically and clasps her hands together with glee when I tell her that the tooth fairy will leave her a coin tomorrow morning.

I know that she knows, and she knows that I know, AND SHE KNOWS I KNOW THAT SHE KNOWS! God parenting is confusing.

Friday

I have been trying, without much success, to remove a rust stain from the poured concrete terrace. It has come from a metal dolly container whose base is rusting and yes, I have known about for like EVER. I just diligently, studiously ignored the problem. I should have a prize for the work I put into pretending it wasn’t happening. I mean seriously, where is my medal?

I have tried lemon juice, white vinegar, soap and water, and all three together at once, with abrasive sponges and whatnot, and have drawn a blank, until one incredibly helpful instagram friend recommends mixing the vinegar with bicarbonate of soda (of course!) I have to scrub like little orphan Annie but the stain is slowly lifting - hurrah! Another dear friend recommends I buy an abrasive drill attachment to speed up the process (total genius!) I order it immediately and think about how much I love my helpful, kind instagram friends.

I have tried this week to make a post about plant supports - I know that lots of you wanted to know how I got on with the ones I ordered for my hydrangeas. I’m so sorry I haven’t managed to do it yet but here are the supports I bought - they are absolutely brilliant - really heavy and sturdy and they look beautiful. I got the steel ones which will rust naturally (luckily for my terrace, they are in the flower bed). I will get the post up next week and it will include other suggestions.

All the good things until then, dear friends

x Laetitia

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