Another glorious day and it’s meant to stay this way until the weekend. I had no intention of writing a blog entry today, but madness overtook and I got the urge to do a spot of gardening. I must have sunstroke. Or frostbite. Even Georgie Girl left the sanctuary of the conservatory and she hasn’t set foot outdoors since last October. As you can see, Megan was shocked.
So, at what point does a plant become a weed? The definition of a weed is a plant that isn’t where you want it, but what about plants that are in the right location, just the wrong size? Does that make them “weedish” without actually being technically weeds? Anyway, one of the heathers in the rockery by the front door was really doing my head in so I had to hack it down. I wouldn’t normally consider such action if there is the remotest danger of frost (an excuse I frequently use) but it’s been irritating me for ages.
Then, one thing led to another and I couldn’t stop myself. All the brambles that I had successfully managed to turn a blind eye to since autumn started grabbing my attention. And you know what brambles are like… find one and it just leads to another. It got worse. As if my hands had a mind of their own, I picked up the rake and the garden claw and, before I knew what I was doing, I was tackling the vegetable patch. I thought it may be still quite hard after the overnight frost but as it’s south-facing on a slight slope with good drainage it was actually quite easy to work considering it is fairly clay-rich. I only did half of it so – oh, lucky me! – I’ve got something to do later in the week.
The good news is that the rhubarb is starting to sprout leaves so The Strimmer Man didn’t totally destroy them. They are now covered with a pot (if Megan hasn’t run off with it) to force the shoots so hopefully we’ll be enjoying home-made rhubarb crumble in a few months time without having to pay the exorbitant prices that the supermarkets charge.
