Jan 7th 2005 - What's it all about?
Now that the New Year is under way, it seems like a good time to start this journal. I’ll be writing about my garden, and what happens in it, the plans I’ve got, plants I like and want and some of those that I don’t like at all and think are awful.
"...I’ve got a lot of work to do and really need to knuckle down to it big time."
"...the ‘general’ in 'General Certificate’ actually means 'just about everything that can be crammed into a year and a half’."
And, as this is the last term of the RHS General Certificate I’ll write about that too. Oh, those words: ‘the last term’ – inevitably exams come at the end of it, on Wednesday the 9th of March. I’ve got a lot of work to do and really need to knuckle down to it big time.
I started the Royal Horticultural Society’s General Certificate course in September 2003 after Karl saw it mentioned in the tiny village newsletter which is delivered once a month or so. If he hadn’t mentioned it to me I’m not sure that I’d have noticed it myself, so really I have him to thank for these last months of pleasure.
I didn’t have too clear an idea of what the course included except that there would be a lot on plants, a fair bit of science, a weekly practical session and some visits to gardens and nurseries. I soon came to realise that the ‘general’ in General Certificate’ actually means ‘just about everything that can be crammed into a year and a half’.
The course lecturer said that a good grounding in horticulture was important for us to get the most out of the course and I think it’s quite true. I’d already made several gardens from scratch, as well as having an allotment and working in a nursery.
During periods without a garden our home was a jungle of house-plants and the balcony brimmed with foliage. I’m sure that it’s made a big difference not having to play catch-up and, whilst some of the plant science has been new and a bit headachy to start with, I’ve felt pretty comfortable with the amount work to be done.
"...Every week brings new knowledge about plants, techniques, botany, design, pests, diseases, you name it."
Even so, there is still a huge amount to learn. Every week brings new knowledge about plants, techniques, botany, design, pests, diseases, you name it. The subject of horticulture is incredibly stimulating and endlessly fascinating. It’s the most interesting subject I have ever come across; not only that, it goes on for ever. It never ends, there is always something new to learn.
So, to the garden here. It isn’t big by any means, just a small garden surrounding a fairly modern dormer bungalow in the village of Broughton in North Lincolnshire. The garden sits below street level and is currently rather open to the public gaze, but we’re hoping to add some privacy this year in the form of more shrubs and some trellising.
The house sits on a corner and is detached and the garden goes all the way round the house. This means that there are several microclimates - from dry shade, moist shade, well-drained with some sun, to the one area that is south facing and dry.
"...Roman road runs north-south and channels the wind very effectively."
The straight Roman road runs north-south and channels the winds very effectively (for that, read ‘wind tunnel’), though the mature woodland over the road protects us from westerly winds. Even with that protection there is often a good deal of turbulence around the plants; the wind in this part of the country is seldom idle.
how the side garden looked
When we moved in we were presented with a blank slate of lawn and the narrowest strips of bare soil for beds, some no more than six inches wide. It was a sad garden with little life save one mature Bramley’s seedling apple tree, a couple of Fuchsias, three very ragged standard roses and several thousand Muscari bulbs (Grape hyacinths).
"...I watered and weeded and sat back to see what would happen.
That first summer was a jumble of wildly clashing colours"
The first year I decided to wait and watch, see if anything came up and keep an eye on which areas got what amount of light. No perennials put up shoots in spring, and nothing had seeded itself, so apart from a soil test (on the sandy side, but neutral) I kept my involvement to digging the borders over a bit and scattering some seeds – a blue mix, a yellow mix and a white mix. To this was added one packet of wildflower seeds. I watered and weeded and sat back to see what would happen.
That first summer was a jumble of wildly clashing colours, so bright it almost hurt to look at it. It was glorious. I spent long hours staring at the beds and wondering what to do with them. Sometimes I’d take a stool and sit in the middle of the lawn just gazing around and frowning, visualising what could grow and how it might look.
In the nearly three years since we’ve lived here, the garden has already been through many modifications with shrubs planted and then moved, failures uprooted and replaced with something more suitable and about half the lawn dug up to increase the plant space.
...that elusive quality of 'unity'."
This spring I’m planning to make more changes in the hopes of providing that elusive quality of ‘unity’ which I feel has so far been lacking. It’s certainly been colourful, and the wildlife loves it but something has been missing.
Some may not agree but I believe the garden has too many different plants for the size of it. By carefully reducing the plant types and concentrating more on the habitats needed, as well as texture and colour, I’m hoping to create a garden that holds together better, that gives year round colour, texture and form whilst remaining a haven for the wildlife that visits.
"My tastes change fairly regularly so I know full well the job will be never ending."
That means all the microclimates we have must be taken into account, which plants grow in each one and their season of interest. Then choose which ones I like. My tastes change fairly regularly so I know full well the job will be never ending. For as long as we live here, I shall adjust, meddle, tweak and sometimes transform.
Those changes will be the main subject of this journal.
© Copyright Miranda Hodgson 2005