Back on track!

I feel I've let Pablo down by not keeping his garden blog updated.
I hope to rectify this in the coming weeks - in both words and images - to show some of the changes and hopefully improvements made in the garden during this year.

Meanwhile, here are a few glimpses to whet the appetite.

tulip fever

clematis  montana

The montana was spectacular this year.
Sadly I didn't capture the best of it on film and now most has been ruthlessly cut back.

However here's a view of the small pink version on the side of the summer house.





Autumn must be nearer than we think for bulb catalogues have begun to be pushed through the letterbox and at the
allotment the seed catalogues for next year's bounty have
been given out. I plan to switch allotments later in the year which will entail moving my shed but it will be worth it as the neighbouring ash tree has taken moisture out of the soil
(at least that's my excuse for  poor crops!)

forget-me-nots and border tulips

Where does the time go....

Unbelievably, it's six months since I last visited Pablo's Garden blog!
Problems with my laptop - (it decided to delete all my files and photos) - and some while thereafter before it was replaced, resulted in my losing momentum for documenting the garden.

I did continue to photograph developments in the garden - including taking out the apricot that thought it was a medlar, together with a viburnum that had outgrown it's allotted space, thus freeing up areas for replanting - and have been busy deciding what to plant in the newly-available spaces.

Various garden visits and a trip to Harrogate and  Gardeners' World Live last weekend produced a variety of new plants, some of which are already in situ, but there is still work to be done.

The weeks and months fly by and unbelievably it is almost one whole year since we opened Pablo's Garden under the NGS! Although successful - about 150 visited and we made £650 for charity - I felt it was better to have a break and replant and establish some areas of the garden before opening again.

Who knows what next year will bring?

More later - hopefully with photographs.

Keep Gardening.

Looking through the window

Usually one of the first signs of spring

Early in the year, a neighbour's glorious tree always managed to lift the spirits of all who viewed it.
I often inveigled my immediate neighbour with a request to 'prune' those branches that trespassed onto his garden, with the proviso that he hand the offending twigs to me, which he duly did. They then took pride of place on the hall table, helping to dispel the winter blues. How could anyone feel miserable having witnessed this living miracle?

For me, this Van Gogh-like tree was a sign of hope, accompanied by the delicate snowdrops that shyly made their quiet debut,  only to take centre stage as the spring progressed.

How tragic, therefore, after returning home one afternoon and gazing out of the french windows to discover that the tree had been pruned back beyond all recognition. What the poor tree had done to warrant this act of vandalism is  beyond my understanding. I feel so sorry for myself, the neighbourhood and, of course, the tree itself.

The view from the french windows now

On a positive note, however, at least part of the tree still exists and so I'm trying to comfort myself  with the thought that, Nature being as powerful as she is, perhaps there'll come a time  when I'll be able to gaze out of the window and Vincent's vision will once again delight the eye and lift the spirits.


I live in hope.                                            

Cheerful primroses

The past only comes back

when the present runs so smoothly that it is like the sliding surface of a deep river.
Then one sees through the surface to the depths.
In those moments I find one of my greatest satisfactions,
not that I am thinking of the past;
but that it is then that I am living most fully in the present.
                                                                                                      Virginia Woolf  'Sketch of the Past'

All the best for 2015 from Pablo's Garden

Lest

Lest we forget the past

Nothing lasts forever

It may be because I've been married to an historian for over 40 years, but, despite enjoying reading about new and interesting ideas and projects and visiting different gardens, I am somehow loathe to make drastic changes in the garden. I especially feel that the trees, so many of which were in situ when we moved here 35 years ago, deserve to live out their alloted span without much interference from me and should be preserved no matter what.

In the shade of the old apple tree

However, I finally took the plunge, or rather the axe, and  agreed that Norman, All Seasons Arboralist, should finally fell our old apple tree. In a fit of enthusiasm, I had planted a white rambling rose - Kiftsgate - having a romantic notion that the white  blossoms cascading down and through the branches would make a delightful scene in  early summer. In a Sissinghurst moment I  added a white clematis montana for extra impact. Such a mistake! After a short time in garden terms, the poor tree was overwhelmed, the tree canopy so dense that I feared for its safety each time we had strong winds. So it was time for it to go.

New viewpoint

Feeling a mixture of sadness and elation at the thought of spending the winter months deciding what to plant in the newly-exposed space. (The fern has now also gone, opening up the space even more).
Suggestions welcome

No time to stand and stare

Well into October and I don't know where the time has gone.
I have been busy - too busy I'm almost ashamed to say to find time to document the changing seasons in Pablo's garden.

Part of the stumpery

I have already closed the summer house down for the year and am currently ensuring the cushions are well and truly dry before packing them away until next spring. There has been no opportunity to treat the woodwork so fingers crossed the winter isn't too severe.


 

Forest Pansy

It's amazing just how much colour there is still to be seen in the borders. This forest pansy is a wonderful example although, to be fair, the leaves are this colour from late spring until they begin to fall in early autumn. They are lovely to use in flower arrangements despite not taking kindly to being picked. Even so, it's worth trying to introduce such a fabulous colour inside the house.

late clematis

The medlar that turned out to be an apricot has now been taken down which has opened up a small area of the right hand border which can now be replanted - with what I'm not yet sure. However friend Liz has offered me a small greengage tree. I love making 'greengage summer' jam so have offered the fruit tree a permanent home in optimistic exchange for jars of jam sometime in the future.  Watch this space...

Norman, All Seasons Arborist,  has already performed his annual magic and trimmed back the ivy on the garage and generally kept the trees in check, including the holly that is already bearing berries in anticipation of the festive season.

Portia with Japanese Anemones

Portia and Estella have had a wonderful summer in Pablo's garden but have already sensed the changing seasons. They don't need calling twice before dashing into the warmth of the central heating once darkness falls. Similarly, each morning I get an extra few minutes in bed as they wake later and later and often snuggle in for a cuddle before crying to be out in the fresh air. I can't wait for them to discover snow.

           

Estella preparing to travel

Weeds rule OK

At last the blessed relief of sufficient rain to give Pablo's garden a  good soaking. A torrential downpour on Saturday relentlessly attacked the exhausted borders. They look shell-shocked and will take some time to recuperate. The weeds have been the first to recover their equilibrium and are popping up in all the places I don't want them to. Some - like rose bay willow herb (how did that get there?) - are so attractive when in flower that I am loathe to disturb them, despite knowing that, come next summer, I will regret that decision.

Giant hog weed

 

 

This is a perfect example of a weed that has a bad name but just look at it - isn't it splendid?
I photographed this on a visit to Hazel Cottage in Armathwaite, the home of two professional flower arrangers, who often use hog weed to create statuesque arrangements.

This, however, is one weed I don't want to self-seed in Pablo's garden.