Long time, no see

Yes, yes, yes. I know. It’s been a ridiculous amount of time since the last garden update. What can I tell you? I was busy rehearsing and portraying the poisonous Miss Prothero. Then I was busy rehearsing and portraying mischievous Maria in Twelfth Night. Then I got distracted by the gong show in Cleveland. And, yes, truth be told, I’ve also had a bit of a case of what my friend Krys and I used to call the “I can’t be bothereds”. So, here I am, hopefully better late than never, trying to catch up.

For those of you who aren’t on Gabriola, the first thing to report is that, after three long, hot summers, normal weather service seems to have resumed. The return of Juneuary was a bit of a shock. (Actually broke down one evening quite late in June and lit the fire.)  Early July brought its own surprises, including two thunder storms (rare in this neck of the woods.) Good for water levels in the well.

Not so good for tomatoes. After three summers of having more cherry tomatoes than I knew what to do with, this year’s crop qualifies as slim pickings.

This is what I brought up from the garden this morning. May look like a fair few tomatoes, but I’m honestly not sure how many more I will see. Ditto the peas.

Something that is new this summer are the pink gooseberries (the things that look like grapes). Although the gooseberry bush has previously borne some fruit, this is the first year the berries have ripened enough to eat.

Ditto the black currants I picked last month. And in the next couple of weeks I will also be harvesting some blueberries. In all previous summers since the garden project began and the fruit bushes were planted the berries all disappeared just as they were getting ripe.

Thank you, Cec Ashley, for the fruit frames!

Resistance is futile

I tried. I really tried. I went to Arbutus with every intention of buying garden-variety wood stain. I’d decided to go with pine, as this would be lighter. I even had a tin in my hand, all set to go. And then, in a moment reminiscent of those in my twenties when a pair of shoes I hadn’t even known I needed would suddenly scream my name as I walked past them in a shop window in Oxford Street, in just such a moment as that, I spotted something. Like those shoes (oh, so many pairs of shoes), as soon as I became aware that such a thing as turquoise wood stain existed, I had to have it. 

Down to the garden first thing this morning (first guaranteed sunny day in a while) to get cracking. 

Seriously, how fabulous is this?

Unfortunately, once the strawberry/blueberry bed frames were done, a problem with the other frames became immediately apparent. I cannot not stain them in situ. Manage – with some difficulty – to shift the one on the left and get it stained, but moving the other two is definitely a two-person job, and I am but one person.

So, a message is left on Mr Fixit’s answering machine, in the hope that he might be able to pop over later today or sometime tomorrow.

After that, it’s just a question of acquiring and attaching some wire mesh. (I do have some plastic netting in the shed, but it’s a bitch to work with and anyway the holes might be big enough to trap and endanger small birds. Definitely not the object of the exercise.) Hopefully I will get around to this part of the job before the birds start eating the berries.

My aching butt

Oh, yes, I remember this now.  The day after the first day of really bending down and digging in: the sore legs and the aching butt. I get the leg muscles – all that stretching and crouching, but my ass? I remember posing this question on Facebook years ago, after my first big gardening day in Walthamstow. Someone – I vaguely remember it being Birgit –  who clearly paid more attention in anatomy classes than I ever did, replied with the information that there are butt muscles (glutes?) attached to the thigh muscles which I’d also been stretching more than usual. How annoying is that? Not quite as annoying as the clear recollection that tomorrow it will be worse. That just doesn’t seem fair.

Anyway… 

During all the bending and stretching yesterday, I spot the first flowers opening on the strawberry plants. I haven’t put a seed in the ground yet (must get on to that) and already food is beginning to appear. Hurrah.

Tiny, tiny flowers are starting to appear on the raspberry plants. There are also tons of flowers on the blueberry and black currant plants and lots of berries already sprouting on the gooseberry.

This is all very promising, I think, as I add compost to all these beds.

Mind you, it always seems very promising this time of year. And it all gets very exciting as we move into summer, and then this happens.

There is part of me that thinks it’s only fair that my gardening efforts (such as they are) should benefit other species. (Although never bloody Bambo.) Have I not, after all, made a concerted effort to have a bee-friendly garden? Yes, I have. So, in theory, it should be fine if the birds get something, too. It’s the ratio that’s a little galling. I figure it’s about 75/25. If I was the one getting the 75%, that would be fine, but I’m not. (With the exception of the blackberries, which for some reason the birds leave largely alone.) I mention this to Cec when he comes round to fix the fence.

Two days later, Mr Fixit, bless him, returns with this.

It is the first of four netting frames he’s decided to build for me. What a guy!

Before attaching the netting the frame needs to be either stained or painted. Which should it be? I’m pretty sure I actually have some stain stored away somewhere, but is that what I want? I’m thinking something colourful might be nice? But what colour? Day-Glo pink might be nice. Too much? Perhaps. Turquoise? There’s already a fair bit of it in the garden.

Too much if the frames are turquoise, too? Perhaps. Purple? Cobalt blue? Red? Oh, my god, I just don’t know. Decisions, decisions. Well, I need to figure it out and get on it before the birds start snarfing berries. What do you think?

You can never have too many roses

Today it is Roxie who is keen to help out in the garden.

We begin with a general inspection. What’s this I see?

Oh, my goodness. One day after transplanting the raspberries to better soil, one of them is starting to flower! (Okay, okay, yes, it might have started to flower today anyway, but a woman can dream can’t she?)

And what’s this?

A flower on the California lilac (formerly known as the Ceanothus) already? With absolutely no buds anywhere else? How can this be? Or is this one flower actually left over from last year? How can that be? Around the garden there are bees already buzzing. None are interested in this one flower. All are hopefully poking around in the tulips and hyacinths, destined to be disappointed. (Note to self: identify and plant an early flowering and bee-friendly shrub.)

This morning’s job is weeding the rose garden. Then it’s time (finally – I dug the hole last summer) to get the already budding clematis out of its pot and into the ground.

 

Then it’s time for my first al fresco lunch.

Life can be tough on Gabriola.

On my way back to the garden after lunch, I empty the compost bag into the wormery.

It’s been a while, so I decide to check the lower tray.

Hurrah! A tray full of lovely, smelly, nutrient-rich composted soil. (Note to self: remember to crush egg shells before adding and forget about avocado pits – the worms will never break them down.)

I should, of course, dig this into the vegetable patch or add to the various berry beds. Do I do this? No, I don’t.

The first few fistfuls are packed around the roots of the lilac tree in the hope that this might encourage it to blossom without Krys here. Then I spread composted soil around the roots of all the rose bushes, hoping for a bumper crop of blooms this summer.

Only after fortifying the roses do my thoughts turn to fruit. The apple and pear trees get a dose, as do the two dwarf blueberry bushes.

I mean, let’s face it, if it comes to a choice between food and flowers, it’s no contest, right? As Wallis Simpson once more or less said, “You can never be too thin or have too many roses.”

A berry busy day

It’s transplant day and Stella is as keen as I am to get working in the garden today.

Krys’s visit last month inspired a trip to Wheelbarrow and the purchase of the California lilac (finally planted yesterday) and another dwarf blueberry bush (planted the day after purchase beside a previously transplanted cousin.

Three weeks later, I’m pleased to see that the transplanted bush now has almost as many leafs as the new one.

While she was here, I started transplanting, shifting into better soil (and light) two black currants, the gooseberry bush and the two taller blueberry plants. All of which appear to be doing well.

Today it’s time to dig out my first lame effort at a raised bed, fill it with sea soil and shift the raspberries.

A sunnier spot, better soil… Who knows how many berries I’ll get this summer? More I hope than last year when the frigging fauna fought me for the flora. First there was the Bambo invasion, then, when the berries were ripening nicely, it was

Although I’ve never had to do so in the past, clearly this year I’m going to need some netting.

As I am thinking this, Jamie and his son Andrew appear, hauling the rubbish and green bins to the end of Jamie’s long drive. When I mention netting, Jamie warns me that I need to ensure I have the right mesh. If the holes are too big, the birds get in anyway, trap themselves and do nothing except eat berries until you set them free. Good point. He tells me his broad beans have already sprouted and I poke my tongue at him. All very well for those with sheltered, south facing gardens. Grr.

Elsewhere, in non-berry related news, the pear tree seems to have bounced back from its Bambo munching.

Difficult, I know, to tell from the photo, but a new, very robust shoot has grown up from the roots. No idea which of the four grafted pear varieties it will turn out to be.

When Krys and I went to Wheelbarrow last month, I mentioned my concern that the grafted apple tree was showing no sign of producing any leafs (unlike the pear, which was already doing well). The owner and I went to look at some of the ones for sale in the back and I was relieved to see none were doing any better than mine.

Happily it is now turning green. (Again, I realise, difficult to tell from the photo, so you’ll have to trust me.) It will be interesting to see, after one apple the first summer and eight the second, how many apples I will see this year.