little green fingers

Ideal Home Show, plasma screens and impetigo

I have been suffering from impetigo.  Don't know what that is?  Neither did I. In fact, if Robert Robinson had given me option, Call My Bluff style, I would have opted for "one of the smaller islands of the Bocas del Toro Archipelago".  But no, it is a bacterial infection which I am at least 35 years too old to get and which has resulted in my face resembling that of an early plague victim.

I'm not great with such things.  I still remember developing what can only be described as a mountainous zit within my first week of starting university. My solution was not to leave my room for a fortnight. Sadly, this sort of option is not afforded to a mother of three, so I have continued to do the school run without even a paper bag to hide my shame.

More worrying still, I am due to give a talk on Sunday at the Ideal Home Show where there will be six, yes SIX plasma screens to capture, enlarge and then replicate my facial disfigurement to the lucky attendees.

Nice.

Consequently, I am swallowing antibiotics at regular intervals in the hope that I will appear more garden designer than Doctor Who extra.

Oh, and I've also been so under the weather that I haven't quite finished putting together my talk.

But this is where I think you can help.  Yes, that's right, I am asking for some feedback from you lovely people.  My talk is on 'Creating the Perfect Family Garden' and this is a subject I could happily witter on about for days.  But as I only have half an hour, I'd like to know what you consider to be the essential elements to a family garden. What could you not do without? What's your favourite feature - either in your own garden or something you've seen elsewhere?  And most importantly, what are the biggest problems you've faced in creating your own family garden?

Come on, take pity on me.  If not, I may swap the picture of our crocus ring for an image of my face.

You have been warned.

Open gardens, spring equinox and spotters' sheets

   
I have opened my garden this week.

Before you get the wrong idea, I should clarify that this was not part of the NGS Yellow Book scheme (I fear I wouldn't make that cut) and there was a distinct lack of tea and cakes on offer.  Instead, I have had the local pre-schoolers over for a 'Signs of Spring' walk.

Apparently the visits are going quite well.  I can't be more definite about that as I didn't go out there myself.  I know these are only two, three and four-year-olds but frankly the under-5s are the harshest critics you will ever find and I wasn't sure I could take their comments.

Still I did show willing.  Not only did I hold my tongue on the fact that spring is still five days away (I am an equinox pedant and proud of it), but I even knocked up some Signs of Spring Spotters' Sheets.  I also managed to blanche only slightly when the pre-school leader showed me the squares of card adorned with double sided sticky tape.

"And those are for...?"

"Collecting signs of spring."

"From my garden?"

"Um...well...yes."

And then, added, as she saw the expression on my face.  "But they won't be very big signs of spring."

If you want to have a go yourself, I've attached the spotting sheet below.  But please don't come to my garden as I'm not sure there will be anything left to spot.

Download Signs of spring – spotting sheet

Prison officers, compost and pussy willow stems

1. Cut back a couple of hundred perennials

2. Spread three cubic metres of compost

3. Hand weed 150 square metres of gravel path and driveway

This is my to do list for early March.  It is also the least effective advert ever developed for gardening.

This is not good.  I am trying to convince the kids that gardening is fun and that message is hardly brought home by a task list that could have been written by a sadistic prison officer.

Thankfully, horticultural propaganda is never far away.  We have the cutting garden bearing fruit, the crocus rings flowering with fanatical zeal on the lawn, and now we have twigs.

So, OK, twigs might not sound fascinating, but in my best M&S voice, these aren’t just twigs, these are pussy willow twigs.

We cut them from the tree just over a week ago, placed them in a vase and plonked them on the kitchen table.  Then we waited.

Well we didn’t just wait because twigs on their own can be a little dull so first we strung the branches with coloured plastic eggs (and I know it’s not Easter, but we’re the family who make mince pies in February – yes that’s right, we’re anarchists).

But in a couple of days the twigs began their own decorating.  First came the soft white buds, then these burst into sprightly catkins.

 And pussy willow twigs (Saix caprea) aren’t the only bits of spring you can cajole into an early appearance.  The stems of hazels, horse chestnuts, whitebeams and many other trees are also worth a go.  What’s more, the kids can see them develop at close range and in the comfort and warmth of the house should the weather turn wintery.

Sadly, shifting compost is a lot less interior-friendly and I can report that hanging plastic Easter eggs from the wheelbarrow handles does very little to improve the task.

Life lessons, greenhouse construction and the under 3s

Life is all about the learning.

This weekend for example I learnt the following things:

1. If you’re dismantling a greenhouse, it’s worth labelling all the pieces rather than just a small and elite selection.  This way you can put it back together with ease rather than holding your head in your hands and repeating the phrases ‘but it should fit’ and ‘I don’t understand where I went wrong’ ad infinitum

2. When stacking oak sleepers for a greenhouse base, remove your fingers before the two inordinately heavy pieces of wood crush them

3. Greenhouses are like jigsaw puzzles, there is always a piece missing (but unlike jigsaw puzzles, there is no point looking for it behind the sofa)

4. Glazing clips can travel a very long distance and are trickier to spot amongst wood chips than you might imagine

5. You can never have enough glazing clips (see point 4)

And...

6. Leaning glass up against a greenhouse is a fairly certain way to ensure the immediate arrival of strong winds

Still with my father's determination, and the kind advice and help of the greenhouse's previous owner (who, rather confusingly goes my the names of Nobby, Arthur and Robin so henceforth shall simply be known as Glasshouse Guru or 'GG' for short') - the structure is up.

I still have one annoying pane that won't fit and two missing pieces, but I feel these problems can be overcome.

Also, the children are nearly as excited as I am and Ava and Oscar kept running out to check on progress.  Archie, more worryingly, walked towards me with a slow but determined air, carrying a football, and then threw it directly at a pane of glass.

7. Always ensure you have spare glass for your greenhouse or...

8. Never again allow under 3s into your garden.

You see, the learning never ends.