Six on Saturday - 31st December 2022

Last post

No, not last post ever, just for 2022. What a month it has been! In fact, what a year it has been. Apart from the frantic attempts to protect tender things just before the cold spell kicked in, the main gardening jobs this month have involved collecting leaves for leaf mold. Being surrounded by trees means that we get an awful lot of leaves! On the drier days I use the "Monty's Mow" method of collection - effectively using the lawn mower to collect and chop leaves prior to either piling into one of the compost bins, or into black bags for over-wintering. That still leaves lots which can be tucked in under the larger shrubs so that they can work their magic directly into the soil. You can read more about Monty Don's method over here. 

1) Pretty Freezing (2)

I'm being a bit liberal with my final six of the year. This was not taken on 31st December, but on the morning of 12th and it is the wintry scene that greeted me when I opened the curtains that morning. The temperatures remained sub-zero for a good few days and when I checked the greenhouses, as feared, there were some tender losses. On the plus side, Salvia "hot lips" appears to have survived outside.  I thought she was a gonner when the "Beast from the East" hit a few springs back.

2) Yucca gloriosa "variegata"

According to my "go to" source of information, the RHS website, Yucca gloriosa "variegata"  flowers should appear in "late summer or autumn". My plant has other ideas. Not only that, but the flower spike started appearing before the recent freeze and has showed no sign of giving up. 

3) Third time lucky? Overwintering my lemon tree. 

This is the third winter for my lemon tree. The first winter I purchased a tray, filled it with gravel, brought tray and tree inside wherupon all leaves fell off. It survived. Last winter tray and tree went into the greenhouse near the house, the plant was fed with a winter citrus food, and when it was warm enough, I took it back outside whereupon all the leaves fell off. Again. It survived. For its third winter I've popped it on a sheltered step above which, a couple of floors up, is a boiler flue. It has already survived the cold and the snow that December threw at it and is currently throwing off new shoots and flowers. The added bonus is that the squirrels have not yet located it. The critters stripped it of its 13 fruits a few months back and that was after they'd decimated the figs and the olives. I am plotting revenge.

4) Moss

The original bonsai that graced this dish died a few years back. One of the "advantages" of being surrounded by trees is that we are never short of saplings, particularly sycamore and ash. The local ash in partciular are succombing to ash dieback so each year I pot up a couple in the hope that they may be resistent. I decided to bonsai one and it has survived several  summers now. Obviously at this time of year it is leafless and dormant. Meanwhile, the birds seem to revel in pecking bits of moss from the roof and flinging them on the ground below. I've beel collecting them up and resting them on the slate chippings which are in the bonsai planter where they are surviving well in all the current damp and are providing a little ground level interest while the tree hibernates. 

5) Christmas gift

This rather speldid bug hotel was a Christmas present and has been placed in a sunny location and about 1.6m above ground. My husband tells me that I've interrupted the squirrel's route up that particular tree. Well, if that's the case then I'll have achieved two things - a home for beneficial beasties and a discombobulated squirrel or two. 

6) Hanging by a thread

My trusty garden apron is made of denim. I've had it for more years than I can remember and you'll see me sporting it towards the beginning of this little lockdown video. I'd already had to knot one of the ties once where it had frayed. Now, again hanging by a thread,  more drastic action was needed. I was delighted to find denim tape online and even more delighted that in amongst my mum's extensive collection of coloured sewing threads was one which matched the orange edging used on the tape. It should now last a few more years. 

This is my latest in the #SixOnSaturday series inspired by The Propagator and currently being championed over at Garden Ruminations. Check out the participant guide here. I aspire to be as disciplined, creative and inspiring as them but for now, I'll remain pleased if I can just limp on with a post every now and again. Meanwhile, wishing you and yours a very happy new year. 2023 needs to be a year when we all dig deep - physically and mentally - to identify further actions we can take to protect and nurture our planet. 

The Plot

2002 incursion

The garden faces southeast. The woodland at the end, and the boundary to the south side contain many mature sycamore trees. Great for the squirrels to have fun in but not so brilliant when it comes to letting sun into the garden. It is on the side of a hill with the southwest side ground level probably around 1.5m higher than the opposite side. The soil is good old London clay with all the joys of ground movement and impossible digging conditions that that brings.

The section of the garden furthest from the house borders on to a local play area and in 2002 that border was breached and damage done to the fence and to the fledgling pond. For years therafter we did nothing to this part of the garden, concentrating our efforts on the bit nearest the house and letting the wilderness take over instead.

2014

By 2014 the two boughs of the aged apple tree had also collapsed. On the plus side, the woodpile formed a perfect environment for the stag beetles that frequent the garden on an annual basis. On the negative side, it looked a mess. It was also dangerous. The concrete paths laid by a former owner of the property had cracked and moved and were now covered in moss and ivy. During the 2002 incursion the fledgling pond that we had laboriously dug was filled with rubble and the lining was breached. However, it clearly retained enough water to enable a small  population of toads to survive. It was still damp, and there was sufficient undergrowth to hide under during the day. And my goodness, was there a fantastic food supply. In fact, how have I got this far without mentioning SLUGS.  Everywhere. Eating everything I planted. In fact it was only after years of concluding that I was a really rubbish gardner that I realised I'd actually been spending hundreds of pounds feeding lovely delicate plants to the slugs and snails.

Anyhow, I digress. Back to the "wilderness". That's where we were back in 2014, occasionally finding toads overwintering in the outside loo!