A painful decision

When we moved into our home in 2006 the front garden had a long griselinia hedge, an outsized rosemary bush on one side of the gate, and a small cherry tree of weeping habit in the far corner. The severe winter of 2010 dispatched the rosemary and the hedge, leaving only the cherry. As we did not plant it ourselves we never knew the name of the cherry, but I’d hazard a guess at Prunus pendula rosea.

For many years we admired the cherry even though its flowering period was so short. Some years it put on a good show for two weeks or so around St Patrick’s Day, other years it flowered poorly, perhaps due to the attentions of bull finches.

As the years have gone on it was getting bigger and bigger, rising in height with its long branches sweeping the ground. In the last three years or so it became very obvious that it was in the wrong place, now reaching the wall of the house and the window sills, leaning over the side hedge into the neighbour’s garden and arching out over the public footpath. The fuchsia and spiraea in the front hedge were now shaded so badly that the growth was becoming long and soft, seeking the light. The roots of the tree had spread out many metres under the spring bulb bed and under the grass, perhaps even under the house.

I hated the thought of taking it out and put off the painful decision for a number of years. I tried summer pruning the long branches, but I had limited success as the main stem was growing way out of reach. However, I considered the opportunity its removal would allow. The gravel under it could be raked and cleaned up, the fuchsia part of the hedge could be pruned back and tidied up. The area could have colourful pots in spring and summer, and we would get more light into our front room.

We quickly realised that the job of tackling it would be too much for us as we did not have the right skills or equipment. Finally the day came when we called Ryan from Allwood Tree and Garden Services. In a matter of less than an hour he had the job done and the tree removed. I am very sorry to see it go, but its vigorous growth could not be sustained. Now the big clean-up begins and the new vision thought through before the spring.

Frost at last

After an exceptionally mild autumn, last night (18^th-19^th November) we had our first frost. Many plants that should have been composted a month ago were still growing strongly, producing welcome flowers for wandering bees. Now, in one fell swoop, they will have collapsed, and bees will have to make do with winter flowering heathers and violas. The last of the sunflowers, still visited by great, blue and coal tits, will have to be removed. A few stray potato plants, having seeded themselves from missed tubers will be damaged. Tender plants, such as fuchsias, sheltering in the glasshouse and still in full flower, will have got a major shock.

A few weeks ago I finished clearing the last of the tomato plants from the glasshouse, they had a longer life this year too, ripening well into October. I mulch the shrubs and trees with the used tomato compost and stow away the pots for next spring and summer. I had washed down the glasshouse and begun to allocate winter places for the most tender specimens. Last evening I placed a fleece over them, but as the glasshouse is not heated they will have experienced a chill.

Small garden birds are very busy this morning, seeking out food. We provide grain, peanuts, sunflowers and fat balls as well as the occasional treat of home made fat balls and diced cheese. The blackbirds, robins and tits love the tiny bites of mild cheddar to supplement their diet. The apples have all been picked and stored, but we cut up damaged ones for the blackbirds. Having made some crab apple jelly last month I left the remaining crab apples and the blackbirds are now busy stripping the tree. The mountain ash and rose hips have been cleared for a while, but some berries remain on holly and pyracantha to help them through the bitter days to come.

Most of the leaves have fallen, but some remain on the acer and magnolia, they will certainly fall this week and we will be truly into the winter look.

Successes and failures: Spring 2021

The gardening year is not as predictable as it sounds, each year brings it own challenges and unexpected joys. This is the second spring of lockdown, and what a contrast to last year. The fine, dry, sunny spring of 2020 lessened the fear of the pandemic as people retreated to their gardens or green spaces. The spring of 2021 has been long and cold, no severe snow storms, but a persistent cold, with frosty nights up to the end of May in our area.

The potato experiment is finished, the crops of Sharpe’s Express and Red Duke of York were harvested from the large pots on 12 and 17 June. The crops were modest and I wondered about the wisdom of taking up so much room in the glasshouse in the early spring. However, as soon as we tasted them I decided it was very worthwhile, they were delicious: dry and floury as I like them, with pristine skins and flesh. Another year, if the weather is milder, they could be placed outdoors earlier, when the valuable indoor space is needed.

I love to grow courgettes, their delicate flavour, fresh and crisp flesh, make them ideal eaten raw in salads, or baked in a courgette and lemon cake. I rarely cook them, a quick toss in a pan is enough for them. This year’s experiment worked well. Each year I sow the seeds indoors and plant out the small plants when the weather allows, but slugs are a real problem at that stage. This year the seeds of Jaguar (green courgette) and Lemona (yellow) came on well indoors. I then transferred them to individual hanging baskets and placed them outside to harden off. As soon as the leaves were strong and slug resistant and before they outgrew their baskets we transferred them to the vegetable bed where they romped away. We picked the first Lemona on 15 June.

I use hanging baskets as an integral part of growing my young vegetables, it allows them to get acclimatised while protecting them from slugs. I’ve had set backs from time to time, once placing the basket too close to an overhanging plant encouraged the slugs to climb up the plant and drop into my basket. The birds like to perch on them too so salad leaves need to be placed away from the dangers posed by young birds. Once they reach a certain size and toughness I transfer them to the vegetable beds or large pots.

Tomato plants have come on very well, this year I’m growing Sungold, Gardener’s delight, Marmande, Tigerella, Garden pearl and Golden sunrise. I sowed seed at the end of January and more in early February, allowing them to grow large on the window sills before transferring them to the glasshouse. They are now full height in the glasshouse and the first fruits of Garden pearl are beginning to turn red, I picked the first one on 23 June. I love the way that robust side shoots can be used to make new plants. This is great if you want to share them around.

Peas have been a disaster. I’ve grown peas every year since we came to the garden in 2006 and they always do well. This year I sowed Early Onward, my favourite pea, in February on a sunny window sill. They never germinated. The seed was in date, I purchased the package last year and used about half of it with no problems. I sowed another batch a few weeks later: no result. Then I sowed the remaining seeds outdoors in the vegetable bed, one pea plant emerged. A tray of small unnamed pea plants I discovered in the supermarket were being sold off for one euro, they had not been watered and were sitting in relative darkness and in the draft of the front doors. I brought them home and carefully nursed them, about two-thirds of them have come on and are beginning to climb onto the wire trellis. Two new packs of Early Onward and Kelvedon Wonder seeds are showing the true spirit and have germinated happily in hanging baskets outdoors, the first batch are now doing well in the ground, but the first crop will be so late. For fun I had bought a pack of Purple Magnolia peas, they germinated and grew strongly and are now producing lovely two-tone blossoms and purple pods for salads.

The ox-eye daisies have gone rampant and need attention. I sowed them from seed about three years ago, last year they worked very well in the beeline tubs by the vegetable beds, this year they have spread everywhere and have gone too tall and straggly. They are a lovely plant when they are a bit restrained and the bees love them. I have weeded them out of all inappropriate places: gravel, vegetable beds, under apple trees etc. I’ll try to confine them at an early stage of growth in future years and not let them get out of hand.

Potato experiment

Early in the year Fionnuala Fallon in The Irish Times suggested sowing a couple of potatoes in tubs in the glasshouse in order to get an early crop. This sounded good. I had my potatoes chitting in the bedroom, as usual, so I took out two Sharpe’s Express and two Red Duke of York and sowed them in large tubs on 1 March. These are first earlies which I normally plant around about Patrick’s Day, weather permitting. This would give me nearly three weeks head start.

This year we had lovely mild spring weather for St Patrick’s week, so the rest of the potatoes went in on 17 March. The glasshouse tubs came on beautifully and I added earth to them gradually until the tubs were full. The potatoes in the ground were slow to start as the weather got cooler and frostier. Soon they had to be tucked up in fleece each night, and even then some of the tender leaves got burnt.

Now the May holiday has passed and I’ve encountered a small weather related problem. The days are warming up but we still have frosts at night, it was minus four last night, and the winds have been very strong this week. The two glasshouse tubs should have been outside for a few weeks, and now the plants are getting soft and lush, making them delicate and susceptible to harsh conditions. The glasshouse is also needed for tomatoes, which are growing rapidly. I’m not sure how the cropping will turn out, but if I do it again I will harden them off sooner, even if I have to take them in every night. I have staked them to help protect them from the wind, and this weekend they are going outside during the day.

Canalside, baby ducklings are zipping around and the ever watchful heron stalks the bank. The cuckoo has returned and we hear his call over the bog near the canal. We have spotted the turtle several times now, once basking in the sun on the low bank. Another walker told us he had seen it last year too, which means it can survive the winter.

Life returns

While we wait impatiently for life to return to normal, nature carries on without a care for human affairs. Dormant trees, shrubs, and plants are shaking off their winter slumbers and preparing for their blossoming and fruiting year.

In the garden new leaves and budding blossom are breaking out everywhere. Our plum was covered in pink blossom, the earliest fruit flowers to emerge, maybe we’ll get our first ever crop of plums this year! The white blossom of the pear and damson are just coming on, and the apples and crab apples have tight red buds, soon to break forth.

The two flowering currants are in full display with bees hovering around them all day. This year our common lilac is covered in buds. It is in the front hedge for about ten years and has only once ever flowered, two years ago. Last year: nothing.

Our robins, blackbirds and collared doves are pairing up and performing great courting rituals. Yesterday two wood pigeons did a full patrol of the garden, I think they are home hunting.

By the canal new life is emerging too. We saw our first baby ducklings this week, clustered tightly around the mother duck, furiously paddling in her wake. The first wave of swallows is in, we saw the advance party of two on 30 March swooping above the canal and the numbers are now growing. The swans have disappeared, they must be nest building in some secluded place. On Easter Sunday we saw the kingfisher, his russet breast as he perched on a branch and then a flash of electric blue wings as he flew fast and straight along the length of the water. Two weeks ago we spotted a turtle, its head was above the surface for air before it dived under, and we could see its small fat legs doing the breast strike. I don’t think the turtle is normally found in the canal, it must have escaped from a domestic setting, but it seemed happy and I’m sure it has access to plenty of food.

Primroses, and their cousins the cow slips, are now in profusion, sometimes mixed with violets. The furze and blackthorn bloom side by side and brighten up the dullest of days. The water lily leaves are beginning to unfurl under water, looking like large cabbages. We now await the arrival of the bad mannered cuckoo.

The awakening

While many gardeners are working at a micro level at this time of year, sowing seeds, monitoring plantlets and pricking out seedlings, nature is working on a larger canvas, putting on a full display, brightening up our lives and gardens. Spring bulbs, flowering shrubs and emerging tender leaves all add to the beauty. Gardens and parks around the country are all aglow, the canal bank has not come into its own yet, just a few clumps of native primroses are showing on the grassy banks and the furze is beginning to shine with yellow blossom. The swans have disappeared, they will be nest building and hatching somewhere quiet and safe.

This year the week of St Patrick’s Day was so fine and mild that it was possible to plant the first early potatoes. Very often this ritual has to wait until the end of the month due to harsh conditions. Of course, we will get frosts, and maybe even severe ones, so I may have to cover the crop with fleece at some stage over the next month or six weeks. Following a gardening tip from Fionnuala Fallon in The Irish Times I sowed two potatoes in each of two large pots and placed them in the glasshouse on the first of March, here they will remain for a few weeks until it is safe to move the pots outdoors. I look forward to an early crop from these pots.

Hellebores are among the beauties of the garden at the moment. Robust herbaceous perennials, they come into bloom in late winter when they are most appreciated, and continue to flower for months. Their large spreading leaves are a bit of a nuisance, but they can be chopped back as the plants come into flower. They also self seed happily, so new plantlets need to be removed and potted up for friends or discarded as they would take over completely. They will even grow in pots if space is at a premium.

Spring bulbs and heathers are providing a welcome snack for visiting bees and butterflies. Flowering trees, cherries and magnolias, are beginning to burst into blossom.

How wonderful to have new spring life to bring us hope in this our second March under severe restrictions.

Nest building

Spring has come these last few days and it’s such a joy to see the garden reawakening; it brings hope in such dark times. Our bird population has been feeling the change for a few weeks now, even though the weather has not been kind. Very cold frosty nights, and at other times incessant rain, have characterised the year so far. Now we’re looking forward to longer days and warmer conditions.

We don’t have nest boxes in our garden, most of our birds are daily visitors who make their nests in nearby hedgerows. As we live in a country area there are plenty of suitable hedges, trees and bushes to choose from.

Last year we had three nests in the garden, and it was amazing to see the different construction methods and architectural styles. The most beautifully built was the wren’s nest which was built into a fork in the branches of the Philadelphus, this was shielded from the prevailing west wind by the wooden palisade which is less than two feet away from the plant. Its cosy interior lined with moss was reached by a very small circular opening.

The blackbird’s nest was built into the thickness of the Clematis ‘Montana Rubens’, which had not been pruned for a couple of years and had a tangled core of robust branches. Making use of locally sourced materials, it was expertly constructed with twigs and moss, but amazingly it was held together by long plastic threads pecked out of the weed suppressing fabric from under the glasshouse. We discovered this when the nest was exposed in the autumn, but earlier in the year we nearly had a tragedy. We found the female blackbird very distressed under the currant bushes by the glasshouse, she was flapping about and we thought she had a broken wing. On closer examination we found she was completely entangled in the plastic string from the weave of the fabric. We released her and I carefully cut away any loose strings to avoid further misadventure. From time to time more long strings appeared even though I kept covering over the fabric with gravel. She was obviously unpicking the thread for her nest.

The wood pigeon’s nest was high in the Laburnum, very loosely constructed with twigs. It looked free form and not very stable, but it’s still there long after serving its purpose and the little birds use it as a perching spot. This nest was not a success even though the female pigeon spent long days and weeks in it. No brood emerged and eventually it was abandoned.

The courting season has begun so I look forward to seeing if any bird chooses to build in our space this year.

Seed blitz

Last year, 2020, I was caught out badly at the beginning of the year. Usually I purchase new seed for vegetables and flowers in the spring, February or March, and combine the new purchases with some left-over seeds. Some seeds need to be fresh every year, but others will germinate happily even beyond their ‘best by’ dates. My last visit to the garden centre was in early March when I stocked up a little, intending to get more later. Then, supply ceased suddenly with the pandemic. Online seed companies and suppliers were overwhelmed and ran out of many varieties. So, the year’s crops were grown largely using my old seed. Even a few courgettes, which need fresh seed, were coaxed from the previous year’s seed.

This year, with the twin problems of pandemic lockdowns and Brexit, I organised early. A thorough audit of seed in November resulted in the elimination of anything more than two years old. A timely visit to Johnstown Garden Centre as soon as one lockdown was eased in early December, allowed me to stock up from their wonderful array of new seed, which must have been brought in earlier than usual.

Seed potatoes, however, were going to be a major problem. Most of our seed potatoes are imported from Scotland, where varieties are suitable for our climate and conditions. This supply chain is now cut. Luckily, Mr Middleton’s online store had stocked up before the end of the year, so they were able to supply customers this year, but next year could be a real headache.

The potatoes are now chitting in the bedroom, as usual, and I hope to sow my first tomato seeds this week. I have some old tomato seeds which I will try first, as they tend to come on no matter how ancient. I will keep my fresh seed for another couple of weeks.

End of season blues

While I love autumn colours, the profusion of berries, and the crystal clear days of cold sunshine, I always feel dejected to see the end of summer annuals and the collapse of the summer vegetables. From early spring it’s all about growth, planting seeds, watching them grow, filling vegetable beds, rousting out last year’s pots and containers for new planting. The season always seems short and before you know it peas are all eaten, soft fruit is all picked and eaten or frozen, sweet peas and cosmos have gone over, courgettes have succumbed to the early frosts, apples are picked and stored, and the last of the tomato plants have just a few green fruits left.

I do not mind the tucking in for winter in itself, the work is quite satisfying. As I empty out the pots that contained annuals I recycle the used compost as a mulch under shrubs and fruit trees. There may not be much goodness left in it, but it gives a depth of soil and when combined with garden compost it improves the soil and makes for healthy plants. Vine weevils love to overwinter in pots of compost, so emptying them out into the harsh conditions of a winter night is an effective way to get rid of them. Our robin, Charleen, supervises all this work and grabs whatever pickings take his fancy.

The outdoor tomatoes have long been picked and the plants removed. The tomato fruits will ripen indoors and when we have a glut I cook them with onions and garlic and freeze them, they can be used in very many dishes over the winter. When the indoor tomatoes are finished it is time to wash out the glasshouse and prepare it for winter. This year a little coal tit got himself trapped in the glasshouse, chasing small insects no doubt, and he had to be rescued by human hands. Some plants book their places indoors, some will survive in the greenhouse, but others need the kitchen and other windowsills. This year I have sowed seed of sweet peas and marigolds for next year, they are on the top shelf of the glasshouse. I have sowed seeds of radish too, but I am not sure if they will grow in the winter season.

Strawberry plants have been trimmed back, all withered leaves removed and new runners potted on. Chard and purple sprouting broccoli have taken their places in the vegetable bed, but the empty sections of the beds will be mulched with garden compost and covered with cardboard, which will break down over winter and become part of the mix for next year. I choose my cardboard carefully, parcels ordered online during covid restrictions provide some good pickings, I need softish cardboard, not glazed and coloured, with all sellotape removed. A layer of used compost on top will help it to break down and will stop it blowing away.

This is a time of major pruning jobs when the weather allows. We have some large shrubs which need to be pruned each year in order to fit in our confined space. This year I had to cut back the clematis ‘Montana rubens’ as it has swamped its pyracantha neighbour, and has made its support lean dangerously. As we cut away the tangle of growth the disused balckbird’s nest is revealed. Their brood is reared and they rebuild each year, so no harm is done. The sambucus nigra ‘black lace’, is cut back every year, in many ways this is a pity but it is far too large for the space. It does ensure lovely new growth every year, but this is soft and can be damaged in spring and summer winds. Roses and buddleia also need to be cut back. All this has necessitated several trips to the green waste section of the recycling centre. We compost everything we can, but large, tough prunings will not break down for years. The fuchsias and hydrangeas will not be pruned back until the spring.

There are some compensations, spring bulbs are beginning to peep above ground, heathers are starting into bloom, and the sarcococca has its first fragrant blossoms. It is time to sit comfortably indoors and make plans for next spring, perusing the seed catalogues, and trying not to get too carried away with all the delights to be found in them.

Lovely Hydrangeas

Not so long ago hydrangeas were considered most unfashionable and were evicted from many gardens. I cannot see how gardeners followed this trend and were not incensed at this shabby treatment of a beautiful addition to a garden. A mature plant can take up a good bit of space, but it really earns its place in the garden. Stunning flowers in a variety of colours, good as cut flowers, lovely faded blossoms over winter, nice autumn leaf colour and no fuss about soil or climate.

I love hydrangeas, but I worried about the allocation of so much space to growing them. Our friend in Cork has a huge variety, predominantly blue, growing happily in the wet near-tropical conditions of the county. He has been offering me cuttings for years and I have always refused.

My mother had two beautiful blue specimens, one mophead and one lacecap, their names lost in the mists of time; both were a couple of metres in diameter. I got cuttings of both when we moved to Kildare and grew them on in pots, not the most ideal conditions for them, but they are tolerant. In spite of my best efforts both are resolutely pink in our garden on the esker ridge. After years of giving them ericaceous compost, rainwater and even burying rusty nails in the pots, the insipid pinky-blue colour made me give up. They are now vibrant pink, and very happy, both in outsized pots, and another one from a cutting in the ground.

A few years ago I added a hydrangea paniculata “Vanille fraise” to the front border. The lovely large cone shaped flowers start out pure white, then edge to pale pink, and finally fade to a deep strawberry pink, and so living up to their name.

Last summer, on a visit to Cork, our friend’s hydrangeas were so beautiful, that I thought of a plan to have a row of them in large pots along the wall separating the back garden from the front, replacing pots of lavender, potentilla and fuchsia. So I gratefully accepted a handful of cuttings. He gave us hydrangea macrophylla “Lilacina” and hydrangea serrata “Grayswood” and “Preziosa”. They rooted over winter in my new glasshouse and I planted them up in pots for the summer. I will plant them on into larger pots for next year and put my plan into action. They will never be as happy as in the ground, but I think they will cope very well. On a brief visit before the second lockdown this year he gave us a growing plant of hydrangea serrata “Miranda”, a small variety that I can grow in the soil.

For winter reading I’ve set aside Glyn Church’s Complete Hydrangeas which I will enjoy over the long dark days and I look forward to a beautiful display of hydrangeas into the future. It’s a work in progress!