I love gardening and I like a nose into other people’s gardens via blog posts. So the other day I came over all creative and grabbed the camera to take some shots of le jardine. I say the garden… there is a garden at the front and a yard at the back. It’s more bijou than the other backyards because previous owners nicked half of it to create a sun-room. We had the option of demolishing the whole thing or rebuilding it. We decided to rebuild as it is a great space despite the ambience being compromised on a daily basis by the sight of the Lurcher squatting down to have a poo.
I’ve never liked the term ‘backyard’. Maybe it’s because the all yards I’ve ever seen have been somewhere to shove the wheelie bins and worn out washing machines. Areas of unlovedness. Yet yards can be beautiful. Any space can be beautiful with a bit of effort. Anyway I prefer ‘yarden’. (obviously a combination of yard and garden). At this point I’m aware that I’ve turned into my Mother but even so. I like it the word. I like my yarden.
I tried my hand at gardening at the age of 17. I hadn’t really been interested before that because Dad ruled the garden with his ancient manual lawn mower and uniformed borders of Marigolds and Lobelia. Any attempt to help out was frowned upon but he’d let you make him a cup of tea. When I did start gardening, I found it to be therapeutic. When the boys did my head in with their brawling, I would escape outside and go stab the shit out of the borders with my hoe.
As I got older I watched Ground Force and other such programmes for inspiration. *Confession* I developed a crush on Alan Titchmarsh. I fantasised about him leaning on his spade saying “Mek us a brew lass ‘n ahl show thee a’ ta keep thy bush trimmed”. *Confession over*.
My method of gardening is mainly to stick it in and see what happens but I learned a lot from my late mother-in-law (mum). She had a beautiful garden so I enlisted her help with mine. She’d turn up (hat on) roll her sleeves up, grab the forks and teach me how to divide plants. I’d start faffing about and she’d boom “GERRIN THERE WENCH, DUNNER BE AFRAID OF EM!” Eventually I learned and within a few years my garden was full of beautiful plants- eighty percent of which had been sourced from her garden.
Our garden ‘n’ yarden are works in progress as we’ve only lived in our home since January. It will be a few years before I’ve got them how I envisage them to be. I’m especially looking forward to an evergreen garden in winter. Although Mick Flick* has denied my request for a plastic Santa climbing up the chimney… I WILL have my way with the fairy lights. I like fairy lights. A house can’t have too many fairy lights in my opinion. I’ve watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation a million times. I like Clark Griswald’s style.
But back to the now…We’ve got some tomatoes on the go. It’s hardly crop of the century but it will keep us going for a few months.
This is our beloved lurcher. She’s lovely but barking (as in nuts). She spends hours stalking winged insects, especially bees. They sting her nose but does she learn? No she doesn’t. Idiot.
My vision for the garden is evergreen borders and all year round colour in baskets and containers. It all has to be easy to maintain because of Uncle Arthur (aka my arthritic shoulder). While I’m waiting for the Cotoneaster to become established I’m filling the gaps with Lobelia.
The chimney planter is coming along nicely with the Foooosha / Ivy combo.
I love the look of old-fashioned train station clocks on garden walls. I was hoping to buy one for the yarden but space (and money) wouldn’t allow. Then I clapped eyes on this in B&M. It’s cheap but it doesn’t look that cheap and it compliments the old wall quite nicely. The sound of the ticking clock is like the garden has it’s own heartbeat. I can also keep my eye on the time for picking up Damien.
We bought a real Christmas tree with roots last year. The hope was that if it survived Christmas it could be planted outside in a container. It did survive and continues to thrive in the yarden. It will look magical this year when I festoon it with fairy lights. Muhaha
I get so much pleasure from gardening. You can really transform any part of the garden with the minimum of expense and it costs nothing to dream…
“However many years she lived, Mary always felt that ‘she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow’.” ~ Francis Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
*New nickname for T’other half cus he hates being called Mick and he flicks his hair a lot. I shall continue to use this name until he grants my wish for a chimney hugging Santa.