Paper pots and forgetmenots 💙
Monday
The euphorbia mellifera is about to burst open and the forgetmenots are doing their excellent thing of covering over all my negligence. Forgetmenots are marvellous like this. They never take over, just spread politely and beautifully, filling up all the awkward gaps that suddenly feel so unacceptable in Spring time. If they encroach anywhere they're not wanted, they're incredibly easy to pull up; the very best of little helpers. I pull out my shears and give all the sarcococca a good prune, shaping it (in a relaxed way) so that it resembles a cloud-like mass.
It is a HUGELY satisfying feeling to use sharp, clean shears, and I thoroughly recommend giving any cutting equipment you own a good clean and a sharpen, just to experience the joy of slicing through plant material, both hard and soft with zero effort.
Tuesday
The rain is here at last. Much as I adore a bit of spring sunshine, my teeth were starting to itch for a bit of rain after so many dry days in a row. It's cold too. I inform my Aussie au pair that this type of thing is rather more normal than what she's been experiencing. It's that time of year when seedlings ALWAYS need dealing with. If it's not watering, then it's potting on, or hardening off, or planting out. Yes, seedlings are JUST like babies - simple, but time consuming, which is why I am mostly so mean with my seed sowing. There is also the issue of space; The seeds I sowed filled one small tray in the beginning. Now they are inhabiting every spare bit of space I have in the kitchen, crammed onto ledges and tables. I've had to bring in a large tray to house the cobaea, and this is about to fill up too. The message is clear - some of these will have to fly the kitchen nest before I sow any more plants. Anyway, it's time to pot on the four parsley plants, as well as the two hearted lettuces that I sowed as 'practice' before I begin with my salad plan in earnest. There are also wild tomatoes sowed by my children (goodness knows where they're going to go). I do all of this sowing on my outside potting bench, using the old plastic pots I already own. Space would probably be at less of a premium if I had enough smaller pots, but I won't buy any more. It's time to start making my own out of newspaper (or training my daughter to do it for me). Once everything is re-potted and comfy I water and whisper sweet nothings to them.
Wednesday
I love my dustmen. They are kind, and cheerful, and they always go the extra mile for me. Today I have a totally un-recyclable piece of broken furniture that I ought to take to the dump but I know that if I ask them nicely they'll probably put it in their lovely lorry. They usually come around mid morning, but this morning I hear them at 6am....SIX. I leap out of bed, put on some wellies and dart outside. They very sweetly take the load of broken drawers from the lady in the nightie and I go inside, triumphant. I love my dustmen. I LOVE them. I resolve to make brownies for them. They belong to a precious band of GOOD THINGS in my life that I am thankful for and always happy about. I also love my postman. Did I ever tell you about the time I kissed my postman? No? Perhaps I'll leave that one for another time.
I've just had my argyranthemum delivery; 40 plug plants which at the moment fit into a 30cm tray, but each of these needs putting into its own pot...and god knows where on earth they're going to go for the next few weeks, until they're safe to be outside all the time.
This is the reality of raising seed with no greenhouse. It's fine, but for a while, between the end of March and mid May, you're fighting for space in your kitchen. Just saying. I've run out of small plastic pots to house this kind of thing in. I never thought I'd say that, but it's finally happened. I need forty little pots, small enough to fit in a small-ish tray and eventually a couple of makeshift cold frames (aka clear plastic storage boxes). I roll folded sheets of newspaper into small pots and fill them with compost. It's meditative stuff and doesn't take long. I plant the argyranthemum in them and hope they hold up, and then I post a photo of them on instagram and everyone thinks I'm a goddess. 😆
Thursday
A reminder pings up on my phone. It says 'feed and/or mulch shrubs and trees'. I love a reminder and I particularly love having followed through on an endeavour that could easily be put off. Vacuuming the fluff off the filter in my dryer, for example, is something I would literally never do if I didn't put a reminder for it on my phone. Cleaning the dishwasher filter too...the dishwasher would probably have to break for me to remember to do that. I usually mulch with horse manure, but seriously, pretty much anything will do. You can use spent compost from pots whose contents you are about to renew, you can use leaf mould, you can use the compost that comes out of the bottom of your compost heap. You can even use grass clippings if you like; I always dump my grass clippings around the base of shrubs at the back of my borders. I've been slowly mulching my flowerbeds with what I have to hand up until now, and it's time to go and get some more muck, as I've run out. I empty an enormous bag of poo into my wheelbarrow and start spreading it around things. Dark muck beneath green things always makes for a happy feeling; it feels neat and comfy and RIGHT. It takes five minutes, which is just as well because I'm cold.
Friday
Another bag of manure beneath my evergreens and I'm done with the mulching. For a nanosecond the sun comes out and the lawn looks all velvety and all the tulips are up and I am satisfied.
I take lots of pictures and then go back inside to begin writing like a madwoman until school finishes at 2pm and it's the Easter holidays. Always mixed feelings about holidays. I go in smiling and come out screaming.
x Laetitia
PS you may have missed:
Thinning out: The hows and whys of murdering your plants
Damping off: What it is and how to avoid it
Lilies in pots: Not just for mothering Sunday
Frog love: how to attract them to your garden