Gardening Matters

Yesterday is History.

Tomorrow is a Mystery.

Today is a Gift,

that’s why it’s called a Present.

A.A.Milne

(I only found this quote quite recently and liked it so much I decided to share it here. It answers my current state of mind exactly and I will try to remember it whenever sadness overwhelms me.)

From the Daily Telegraph
Chelsea Pensioner Ron Wilkins enjoying the RHS Chelsea Flower Show
Credit: Paul Grover

This past week I’ve been watching the Chelsea Flower Show - the 106th show - on TV both during part of the day and for another hour and a half in the early evening and what a magnificent show it was once again. I have never been there myself, not even when we lived in London; not only is it very expensive when you consider the cost of the ticket, but adding travel cost and an overnight stay make it even more exorbitant during show week. On top of it there are the crowds, I’d probably faint if I were forced to move slowly through them. TV is fine for me, you get a much better idea of the show gardens and the presenters explain and showcase the most interesting aspects, and the most spectacular plants. Of course, the gardens are indeed ’show’ gardens, there’s little that’s transferable to your ordinary plot; bridges, buildings, verandahs, walls of water, broad steps, massive trees, tender and/or oriental and African plants aren’t usually to be found in your average back garden.

Chelsea gives a gardener endless ideas and much inspiration and I’ve been sitting, fingers twitching, brain itching and the gardening nerve twanging incessantly, almost too restless to stay and watch rather  than go outside and get weeding. What with Austin gone and Paul being slow and lifeless, I must do much of the work myself. I’ve been given the names of two gardeners who might be interested, one actually telephoned and left a message. You may ask ‘so why haven’t you interviewed them’? B-e-c-a-u-s-e  that means sacking Paul. He is so depressed and silent and, yes, lifeless, that I feel sorry for him. He is also extremely hard up and needs every penny he can earn, although I don’t actually see that he earns what I pay him. Both new chaps are probably more expensive, but I’d make them work for their wage or sack them; I don’t know them, so sacking them isn’t as unpleasant a task as sacking Paul, whom I know well.

Acc. to the presenters the fashion in Chelsea this year has been for naturalistic planting, lots of various shades of greens, relaxed, not the usual clumps of three, five or seven of this, then another parcel of three, etc. of that throughout beds. This year the same number of plants has been used but dotted around, mixed with each other. One thing which impressed me no end is that flowering weeds have been allowed in too, in certain ‘wild’ gardens, or at least the sort of plants that a fastidious gardener would so designate. Old Gardener began to ail last year, took frequent breaks and forgot to weed in the more hidden areas. I myself couldn’t do it because of last year’s back problems, so things got overlooked and the results are only too obvious this year. Large patches of perennial weeds have taken over and smothered the few wanted plants left from previous years. I have had a go myself this spring but there’s no way I can get on top of it all without help. So, round and round I go: dismiss Paul and employ one of the new chaps? Maybe I should chicken out altogether and move to a smaller house and garden.? How sad that would be but my decision making motor needs serious oiling before it can run smoothly. So, round and round for the moment . . . . . .

This is a miniature clematis which all by itself has no impact, but planted under, and
letting it thrust its way up and through, a recumbent juniper looks rather spectacular.
I had it in a pot before, with a small trellis, but it was hardly visible.