Six on Saturday - 2nd July 2022

Back after a break

Yes, my first #SixOnSaturday since way back in November 2021. Many flowers have been and gone since then, a new larger greenhouse has been constructed, and a bed that I'd not tackled for the 38 years I've been at this address has been dug and replanted. It did, as I predicted, give up some of the huge chunks of glazed bricks and concrete which some previous owner burried throughout our garden, wheelbarrows of them. I need to tackle more before I get too much older and creakier as each is a huge and exhausting project. This week's #SixOnSaturday, in the series inspired by The Propagator, starts with a major success.  

1) Hydrangea macrophylla "Zorro"

Zorro featured on 10th July last year and was stubbornly pink alongside Mum's pompom hydrangea. I have been on a mission to see if I could get both to revert back to blue as I'd seen both blue when I first "met" them. Even though both were in pots of erricaceous compost, and only being watered with rainwater, both were pink. I resorted to a product which claimed to help restore the blue colour. It has worked beautifully with Zorro but mum's plant remains pink, possibly very slightly less pink than the last few years. My present theory is that Zorro was blue more recently than mum's, and that therefore there may yet be hope for mum's if I continue the treatment. I'll be back next year with the news. Meanwhile, Zorro is putting on an absolutely fabulous show with its blue flowers and striking black stems. My only challenge with it being in a pot is that it is now taller than me and I'd need stilts to appreciate its full spleandour. Hey ho.  

2) Oxalis

I acquired my first oxalis a number of years ago. It was outdoors in the garden centre so I put it outdoors in my garden. It did that perennial thing - flowered, died at the end of the next year, returned the following year and, most importantly, didn't get eaten by slugs and snails. So I bought some more. This one sits on our exceptionally sunny kitchen window sill - completely the wrong place according to the experts - and is a gorgeous mound of dark purple shamrock leaves and pretty pink flowers. I gather it is usually grown as a housplant in the UK, so I guess that's global warming for you. 

 

3) Sunflower

Here I am in my sixth decade and this is the first sunflower that I've grown from seed and which has not been eaten, decapitated or otherwise destroyed by unknown forces. I'm sure this one, too, is at risk, but it has been in the garden bringing jolly joy for a fortnight now. It is a record. The seeds for it and, yes, others, came from a gardner's club seed swap. Knowing that the parent was grown locally gave me hope which has been rewarded. 

4) Unlikely survivors

Purchased as bedding plants in 2021 and inserted into just about the most high maintenance - small hexagonal frame, needs watering regularly - space, these have nevertheless overwintered only to come back for a second year. Words fail . . .   

5) Lemon in waiting

I acquired my first lemon tree in 2020. I overwintered it indoors - bad mistake as the dry heat resulted in significant leaf loss. It survived, went outside last year and produced a few lemons. Last winter I over-wintered it in a greenhouse by the house. Leaves remained attached, as did the unripe lemons. Then, after I thought that it was safe to put it out, I put it out - bad mistake n.2 as the shock of the outside resulted in near total leaf loss. I did not give up. Right now it is covered in lovely new dark leaves and very many headily-scented flowers. I am hopefull that fruit will follow.   

6) Propogation central

The challenge with the bottom half of the garden is that it is surrounded by very mature trees. Anything I plant directly into the ground immediately competes with tree roots for water and nutrients. Add raised beds and compost and what you get is a raised bed full of tree roots! I've gone from feeding expensive plants to slugs and snails to feeding local trees. Meanwhile, my tiny greenhouse by the house was overflowing with cuttings and has been a very successful location for maturing tomatoes. I decide to clear one of the raised beds down the bottom, get it level, and install a second larger model. I'd originally thought I'd treat myself to a very fancy new greenhosue but after a frustrating exchange with a potential supplier, went very low budget with a larger version of the zip-up one by the house. A "feature" of our garden is that nothing is level, Telegraph Hill is, well, a hill, and we are on the side of it. Job one - see if you can create a level surface in a sloping garden. Even though what I'd purchased was a very cheap model, I decided I'd try to protect its frame. We try to re-cycle things and to do that, we store things that "might be useseful". In amongst the stash we had the wood that had been used as shuttering when we had our front path laid, and some offcuts of stone from when we had the steps replaced. We also had some old radiator bricks, and the slats from some old wooden venetian blinds. I created a frame for the greenhouse base (to stop it rusting) which itself is laid on the radiator bricks and infilled with gravel (to keep the wood from rotting any time soon) and the greenhouse frame is attached to the wooden frame using pipe clips. Two of the stone offcuts form the centre floor and gravel fills all the gaps. And those venetian blind slats I hear you ask? I've used those to form shelves for the lowest level of the greenhouse. Oh, and the whole thing is now rammed full of cuttings and some of this year's tomatoes.

That's all for this week. This weekend is deadheading and shrub pruning. Check out the participant guide if you want to join in.

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! 

Introduction

Aerial view of the garden

July 2019 saw London crowned as the first National Park City It is stuffed full of parks and gardens of all shapes and sizes. My little corner of the city backs on to an area managed by The Woodland Trust. When I throw the curtains open in the morning I see trees and, for much of the year, the sun peeking through those trees. A few of those trees are in our garden and the remainder do their very best to overshadow it and to consume every drop of water in the ground. The garden is my sanctuary. It is where I go to be still and grounded in what is otherwise a hectic and crazy world. On the best of days - those days when Heathrow is not instructing pilots to fly into a holding pattern - it is possible to sit at the bottom of the garden on the edge of the woodland and hear nothing but birds. In London that is an enormous privilege. Huge.

Over the last few years we have reclaimed the garden from invading ivy, tree saplings, weeds and more ivy. We have replaced hazardous cracked and uneven concrete paths with smooth level paths. We have made the best of the fact that the garden is on the side of a hill by creating a mini terrace, not from front to back, but from side to side. Our trees are now under control thanks to our fantastic tree surgeon who manages the balance between the fact that we are in a conservation area and the fact that our buildings insurers insist on the trees being managed. We are also getting the hang of working in harmony with the surrounding trees - pruning the worst of the overhanging branches and devising raised beds that don't fill up with tree roots every summer. I am constantly reminded, though, that were I to stop tending it, it would quickly revert back to its woodland state.

In short, this blog is intended as a garden diary, in part to help remind me of the progress of the year. It is also yet another attempt at regular writing - something that I always yearn to do but somehow find excrutiatingly difficult.  If I get beyond three posts then I will be thrilled.