The consequences of going away

The consequences of going away

It is always nice to go away somewhere tropical to relax and get pampered.  Don’t get me wrong for what I’m about to say, because I’ll take a tropical holiday any day of the week over the ordinary day to day.  Not that my ordinary is a normal ordinary, but you know what I mean.  But…

The moment I first set foot in the garden after being away overwhelmed me.  The weeds had set in and made the place look messy and accentuated the end of season tasks I hadn’t got to yet, like taking down the tomato frame.  It would seem there had been a bit of a storm in my absence as well.  I knew this by looking, as there were tell tale signs of damage – wind burnt tips on once luscious green plants, the wheelbarrow laying at a jaunty angle instead of firmly on its wheels and unrestrained plant pots scattered across the garden. 

The mustard cover crop decided to flower in my absence and needed chopping down for maximum nutritional benefit to my soil.

The weed eater made short work of chopping down the cover crop in a chop and drop fashion.

Another more obvious clue was the message I got from my wee team telling me freezing cold and sideways rain meant they weren’t coming in on the day we’d arranged.  I had high expectations of coming home to a weed free garden so I could just throw myself into my latest crazy projects without the background burden of clutter.   I don’t blame them at all for not showing up.  Had I been here you wouldn’t find me in the garden that day either.  But my goodness … the weeds…

I should have taken the tomato cage down ages ago – the plants are long gone.

The tomato bed is now clear and ready for preparations for the next crop of onions.

I didn’t really know where to start so I started at the beginning.  Just inside the gate and cleared the front fence line and freed the emerging daffodil tips, the bedraggled blue polyanthus that are supposed to give a cheerful pop of colour for winter interest and the opportunistic sunflowers than popped up from seed and I allowed to stay to see what happens.

A new row of peas were sown in the hope of favourable conditions and a sweet green harvest.

Historically, something always gets in and destroys my pea seedlings – I suspect the birds so I’ve tucked my peas away in their pea jail.

Following on from that, the logical option was sector one and then move across the garden like a tsunami of garden action cleaning up everything in my path.  I took a deep clean approach and took my time over each garden bed, thoroughly addressing its needs.  As things grow slower over the winter months this was to be like a once and done deal.  Like a reverse spring clean.  The hope is over the next few months it will only need a gentle reminder to stay orderly and in control.   I have grand plans for this off season and it doesn’t involve hours of weeding and edible garden bed maintenance! 

Before I left there was still life in the butternut squash with the green leaves still absorbing goodness and passing it on to the developing squash.

The spent vines were cleared away and the butternuts are basking in the warmth of the greenhouse for the last stages of ripening.

I started the first day with gusto and charged across the garden making sweeping changes that visibly appealed to my soul.  The difference between the done and the undone was like black and white.  It energised me and spurred me on and made me believe all things were possible and I could maintain this high energy momentum and have the entire garden whipped over in a few days. 

Now I used it practice to try and get a nice straight edge. I have tamed some in other areas of the garden.

This Muehlenbeckia once popped up and I decided to let it stay. It grows wild in the hills around us. I first used it to see how well it would like being trimmed

The second day was equally productive and took care of the needs of sector two.  Standing back at the end of the day, looking at what I had achieved felt so good.  In hindsight, in spite of the near frosty starts, the windless clear blue-sky days contributed to my optimism.  Those kinds of days impose an optimism that you can’t argue with.  Life is good and nothing is impossible.  

It is hard to believe a few days ago these grubby hands were nicely manicured and holding a cocktail.

That nice manicure didn’t last long once I got back in the garden.

Day three told a different story.  It was still sunny, but the wind was up a little, not howling a hoolie, but enough to make me feel its presence so in spite of the sun doing its best to shine brightly in the deep blue late autumnal sky, something was different.   It wasn’t just in the atmosphere.   It was also in me.  I had barely lifted a finger while I was away, and now I had thrown myself body and soul into cleaning up the garden.  I was using muscles that had forgotten they once had a job.  I also have my wee ever present MSsy shadow reminding me to slow down, and I found my energy levels fighting in the wind and slowly grinding to a halt.  I have learnt over the years – if my body tells me to stop I stop. So, I reluctantly came inside having almost completed sector three.  It is close enough – I just need to transplant a few fennel seedlings to fit in with my crop rotation.  It should only take a few moments once I recoup myself.

I’m still optimistic I can take care of the rest of the garden before the weather is predicted to pack up next week, but maybe not at such a super-fast pace and interspersed with other quick projects to keep things interesting.

It has indeed been an interesting week and far removed from the week before.  But I have to say there is nothing more rewarding than time in the garden with the warm sun on your back, getting stuff done. 

Come again soon – Sector four and five need some love too.

Sarah the Gardener  : o)

NB:  Clicking on each image will reveal the full size version and clicking on the i will expand the description.  To see even more images from this week check out my Facebook page – look for Sarah the Gardener.