The three seeds I'm sowing this Autumn πΈπΌπ»
Hello friends!
There have been mists! The hydrangeas, influenced by sedum and anemone, have turned a dusty pink. I am contemplating turning the heating on (shhhhh!)
Monday
I want to sow some seeds (seeds which I am yet to buy) so I decide to tackle the potting shed, which is once again in a state of rack and ruin. How it is possible to tidy something so exhaustively, only to let it slip back into chaos is a thing of complete bafflement for me. The only explanation is that putting things away properly, in a timely manner is something that I am simply not genetically made up to do. The other factor here is that my potting shed (or perhaps we should just call it an 'area') is behind my actual shed (although this is not, in truth a 'shed' either, because I don't keep any of my potting stuff in it. Anyway it's out of sight, and that means that I use it as a dumping ground.
Perhaps it's time for my new resolutions to encompass this potting area too, but in the mean time, I resolve to spend five minutes clearing it. Of course it takes more time than that just to remove all the detritus, let alone brush the cobwebs and dirt away. I have one of those moments where I wish fervently that I hadn't begun on this particular escapade;
everything is everywhere - pots teetering on other pots, strange buckets of sludgy, leaf-laden water sloshing about, spiders scurrying off to find better hiding places - all the filth and bad discipline and slovenliness is there, on the lawn, for me to see. I put my headphones on. I am listening to Beyond Black, a Hilary Mantel wonder, narrated beautifully, and I get lost in the story as I labour away with my brush. I take quite a few terracotta pots to the front of the house and put them on the wall for people to take, because I realise that although hanging terracotta wall pots are a nice IDEA, someone's gotta put a nail into some masonry for the dream to become a reality, and frankly, it's just not going to happen. I brush, as always, from top to bottom and from left to right, and then I use the leaf-blower to 'hoover' everything out of every crevice.
Before I put all the pots back, I wash them in hot soapy water (the story I'm listening to is really, really good you see). This was not a five minute job, but it was a VERY GOOD ONE.
Tuesday
I mow the grass again, marvelling at how quickly it grows, and taking great care around the edges of my long grass, where a million little frogs are hiding. When I eventually mow this patch (which will be soon) I'm going to have to form a human chain with my children and shuffle slowly across it to drive the frogs to safety before the chop.
Wednesday
I have begun Death-cleaing the basement (see last week's letter for more on this) and I am thoroughly absorbed in it. I am finding things that I had forgotten existed, as well as several awful noisy toys which I had hidden down there, and which I now stealthily take straight to my local charity shop. Vesuivian boxes of cables are everywhere, as are an astonishing number of sample tins of paint. I take all of this, and so much more to my local recycling centre, where kind men in orange direct me to put things in their proper places. It really is true that one woman's trash is another man's treasure. The orange-clad people pick up my stuff eagerly, inspecting it closely for resale value. I am utterly drunk on the whole thing. I don't think I have felt so blissed out in years. Cheap date, me. I return exhausted (and nowhere near finished) so I go online and order some seeds - the ones I always sow in the autumn - list below - but otherwise, No gardening.
Thursday
An email this morning informs me that my bulbs are on their way. I rush out and start clearing, cutting back the leaves of all my geraniums, and removing lots of irises which have been slowly taking over. I love them in Spring but they don't really earn their keep at any other time. I'm going to replant them somewhere else. I also remove quite a few of my beloved russian sage plants, which don't work for me any more; they were great for filling up space at the beginning when I had a blank canvas, but now they're just falling over everything else. I make a horrible mess of course.
Friday
I clean up above's horrible mess.
Sowing right now for a bountiful 2019
Itβs always good to litter autumnal tasks with a little creative activity, and sowing seeds is as creative as it comes. There is no whimsy here though, because there are some plants that youβd be mad not to sow at this time of year; the results are invariably earlier and stronger. Here are my top three. First, Ammi majus, which no summer vase should be without. I'll be sowing it in situ, making sure that I water regularly, and that I thin it out in stages to a final distance of about ten inches. I am always well rewarded for my efforts. Next is calendula; βIndian Princeβ is still my go-to for its fiery colour and reliability. I'll sow these in pots, keeping them in a cold frame over winter, hardening them off and planting them out as soon as the weather isnβt being dastardly. Finally, and predictably, itβs sweet peas. The difference between a spring-sown plant and one youβve sown in the autumn is vast; fat, beefy main stems and flower shoots that go on for days. I soak my seeds in warm water overnight and put them in rootrainers or deep pots about a thumbnail deep. Their tips get pinched as soon as they look like theyβre about to flop and their roots and side-shoots respond to this beautifully, hunkering down for the winter (no cold frame needed) ready for planting out as soon as growth resumes in the spring. Donβt miss out.
All the good things, always
x Laetitia
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