Hello you.
Now, what with one thing and another, I've not had much opportunity to get out in the garden this year. Spring has resolutely failed to spring, or I've been up the wall with something, or it's been unreasonably dark, or something needed typing. The only occasion I managed to spend an extended period of time there was notable mostly for the length of time needed to persuade my sons that the mass murder of the innocent worms in the compost heap was perhaps not in the best interests of family or planet, so no, I've done little, despite listening yearningly to the GQT panel tell me what I SHOULD be doing. Wevs, as I believe the kids say, couldn't be done. The upshot being I am perhaps a trifle behind with the old maintenance.
And, dear sweet zombie Jesus, what maintenance is required.
Now, the coastalblog garden, a fairly comfy space divided reasonably equably between amusement of small boys, convenience of wildlife and growing of veg is perhaps unlikely to win many awards, but it looks okay to me. There's a preponderance of brickwork; both edging and a path which I laid a couple of years back, warm, comfortable, inviting, you know where you are with old brick. Or at least you did. What there is now is a lot of the innards of brick. Winter's done a proper number on it. Greta flakes are sheared off everywhere you look, the lawn's become pebbledashed.
Now, I am familiar with the mechanics of freeze/thaw. I know fine well why this happens, and somewhere in my Mum's attic is an A level project on periglaciation which damn well proves my bona fides. My point is that this is off the chart, if oe is to judge the state of our climate purely by what it's done to my garden, then odd doings are afoot. Admittedly the flooding and wildly fluctuating temperatures and unseasonal snow are also reasonable indicators but, frankly, I don't have to clean them up. This, on the other hand, I do .Lucky tomorrow's a day off then, eh?
Now, what with one thing and another, I've not had much opportunity to get out in the garden this year. Spring has resolutely failed to spring, or I've been up the wall with something, or it's been unreasonably dark, or something needed typing. The only occasion I managed to spend an extended period of time there was notable mostly for the length of time needed to persuade my sons that the mass murder of the innocent worms in the compost heap was perhaps not in the best interests of family or planet, so no, I've done little, despite listening yearningly to the GQT panel tell me what I SHOULD be doing. Wevs, as I believe the kids say, couldn't be done. The upshot being I am perhaps a trifle behind with the old maintenance.
And, dear sweet zombie Jesus, what maintenance is required.
Now, the coastalblog garden, a fairly comfy space divided reasonably equably between amusement of small boys, convenience of wildlife and growing of veg is perhaps unlikely to win many awards, but it looks okay to me. There's a preponderance of brickwork; both edging and a path which I laid a couple of years back, warm, comfortable, inviting, you know where you are with old brick. Or at least you did. What there is now is a lot of the innards of brick. Winter's done a proper number on it. Greta flakes are sheared off everywhere you look, the lawn's become pebbledashed.
Now, I am familiar with the mechanics of freeze/thaw. I know fine well why this happens, and somewhere in my Mum's attic is an A level project on periglaciation which damn well proves my bona fides. My point is that this is off the chart, if oe is to judge the state of our climate purely by what it's done to my garden, then odd doings are afoot. Admittedly the flooding and wildly fluctuating temperatures and unseasonal snow are also reasonable indicators but, frankly, I don't have to clean them up. This, on the other hand, I do .Lucky tomorrow's a day off then, eh?