Easter Rising

The glorious few days of Amellanchier blossom
The glorious few days of Amellanchier blossom

The Easter break has been kind for DIY and gardening.  With the weather poor in the first week of the holidays, it was no chore to be inside, though painting the kitchen was.  But with indoor work done, gardening has been a pleasure in the warm spring sunshine.  This time last year it was bitterly cold and there is a hint of that with the fresh breeze and clear skies sending temperatures to hover above freezing at night.  But everyone and everything in the garden has been enjoying decent day time temperatures.

Another stunning morning to enjoy the view of Cadbury
Another stunning morning to enjoy the view of Cadbury

So we have been able to get a lot done and I reckon I have pretty much planted all the seeds I need to at the moment.  Some are a little later than previously, others might be a little early.  I have noticed that it is about this time of year that one starts to check out what your friends and neighbours are doing with their plots or greenhouses.  Denise was offering me spare tomato plants before I had even planted seeds, which put me on edge a little, trying to remember if I had planted seeds earlier last year.  I recall planting sweet peas early, indoors, but these were very “leggy”and were quickly caught up and even overtaken by those planted in the greenhouse later.  So I am, with the dread of heredity, coming around to the same view as The Old Man who always says it really is not worth the bother to force start them indoors.

French Beans (I think - better check the label)
French Beans (I think – better check the label)

Conversely, Denise frowned when she saw I had planted my runner bean seeds.  “Much too early” was her confident assertion.  This was on the obligatory “tour of the garden”, which is a social requirement of all good neighbours who should at least feign polite interest in the others’ vegetables and herbaceaous borders (whilst making frantic mental notes on how yours compare).   When Denise had gone, I rifled through my seed packets to check when it said to plant runners.  Thankfully it says April.  Relief – and renewal of confidence in my own work.  Mind you, when it comes to gardening I am still of the Ronseal school of instruction – I do exactly what it says on the tin (or packet).

The tour of the garden is one overt way of checking on the neigbours.  Alternatively you just lean over the fence to see what is happening over there.  Walking around the village can give you glimpses into others’ back yards.  Paddi’s greenhouse is right next to the footpath and Claire was able to report back that it is not showing any greater advancement in green shoots than ours.  So I feel more comfortable about my own meagre showing of shooting stars, as Paddi regularly produces healthy young plants far earlier than me.

Talking of neighbours I liked the report from the RHS, as reported on the BBC which showed that 22% of gardeners admitted to just throwing snails over the fence into their neighbours’ gardens.  I think the most shocking part of this was how FEW admitted to doing this….  I am in the happy position of not having neighbours too close so snails and other pests (such as dead rabbits) can be slung into the field or hedgerows.  Not that there are too many snails and slugs at the mo – but with the summer term about to start, I expect rain will be forecast so we’ll see plenty more then.  The report did not exactly raise any eyebrows with its findings – with facts such as 70% of men planned to cut the grass at Easter, compared with 57% of women.  Good to see there is still some basis in fact to sexual stereotyping.

So, all-in-all the place is looking good and showing real signs of optimism for the summer, which suddenly feels like it’s just around the corner.  I planted the potatoes on 14th April – which was four days later than the Old Man would have said – so can’t be bad, and the garlic and onions, despite relatively late plantings, compared with last year, are looking perky.  The Amelanchier has been and gone in a trice – showing its stunning blossom for a few days before dropping its confetti on the former heather bed.

So now we await the greenshoots of spring to turn into a the lush green summer.

Help Wanted 2

A year ago I wrote about my gardening buddy Fudge.  This is an update on my “Home Help” as I now have two such assistants.

April is here and the baby bunnies are gamboling in the increasingly warm sunshine.

How do you get to the other side?
How do you get to the other side?

Although gambling would be a better description as, with two crazed dogs lurking in the garden, the young buns are looking out-gunned. The first morning of combat saw both dogs trying to burrow into the prickly Berberis at the end of the boomerang bed.  Ella, thick in the fur and thick in the head was able to go in deepest, flushing a rabbit out which passed Fudge heading rapidly in the opposite direction.  She didn’t see it, but both dogs headed off in hot pursuit.

A little while later I found Fudge, licking her lips, with the upper half of a half eaten rabbit nearby.

Dogs 1 Rabbits 0

There was more success on greenhouse cleaning day, when Ella triumphantly retrieved another slaughtered fledgling rabbit for us.  Pleased as punch, she was.  For convenience, Claire put the corpse high in the plum tree – out of reach of the dogs until such time as we could dispose of the body more conveniently, without Fudge and Ella following the scent out of the garden.

Later, Ella was looking concerned, growling and even raising a bark (which is unusual for

Out of harm's way
Out of harm’s way

her) as she came back to the house.  I took my nervous labrador down the garden, only to discover the rabbit had disappeared.  There was no doubt it WAS dead, but, well, you know, it being Easter and all, was there a chance that this rabbit had risen again?  With no sign of any stone being rolled away and with the only apparent witness to the miracle being a dumb labrador, we are left to surmise on possible explanations.  The best I could come up with – other than a new Lapine messiah or a rabbit zombie – was that Ella had been spooked by a bird of prey taking the rabbit from the cross.  Tree.  I think a buzzard rising from the plum tree would be enough to scare most puppies.

So, with fewer rabbits to chase, my intrepid / naughty dogs have turned to escapology, finding ways out of the garden.  Fudge is the leader of the escape committee: if she gets out, Ella is all too easily led astray.  So with Fudge tied up, Ella has no inclination to escape.  But Fudge is still able to do her Houdini impersonations even on the String of Shame, managing to make off around the corner and over the fence.  You will need to look at the gallery to understand – it’s more of a visual joke.

As a footnote, we will continue to tie Fudge up in the garden, although my mother-in-law

Back on the String of Shame
Back on the String of Shame

is of the opinion that Fudge should just be put down.  As Claire’s parents are currently involved in moving from their own nice two bedroom bungalow, with beautifully tended garden (which her dad adores) to a small rented property nearby with only a patch of grass, overlooked by close neighbours, the similarities with Fudge’s desire to wander are uncomfortably close.  The old bitch has a perfectly lovely house and garden to live in, but is causing angst and stress to the others in the house by always wanting to be somewhere else – not appreciating what she has and always looking at the grass on the other side of the fence.  Solution?  Have her put down.  Hmmmmm…

As she is more likely to stay in the garden, Ella is proving to be more of a companion than her partner.  Although she does still have one or two habits which will take some work ridding her of.  For a start, she has little idea of boundaries within the garden and rummages through flower beds as well as trampling vegetable patches.  Chicken wire is a minimal deterrent for her.  And secondly, like all Labradors, she has an “eat first, ask questions later” approach to anything remotely edible.  So the intestines of an adult rabbit she ate the other day were duly deposited all across the kitchen floor an hour later.

So, very companionable, but not a great deal of help still.