Rainy Day Activities
As much as it is tempting linger in my pjs, hovering around the heater feeling sorry for myself as I watch yet more rain pelt against my windows, I really need to do something gardeny to feel motivated. The rain is really getting me down. According to the historical forecast, and I had to look it up because all of the wet days have blurred into one grey memory, we’ve only had 3 days this month with no rain and we’re currently on day 12! We’ve had loads of the really heavy stuff with the annoyingly useless drizzle in between. I’m not exactly sure how much, because the batteries in my fancy rain gauge have died and I keep forgetting to replace them. But our neighbour assures me that the other day we got 80mm in one day – which is just one day of many soggy days. In the summer we would have been declaring ‘this is great for the garden’ and ‘we needed that.’ Well, we don’t need it now, our tank runneth over.
Anecdotally there are signs – my wheelbarrow is full of water I didn’t put there, the paths between the gardens resemble braided rivers as the water makes its way to the lowest point from the surrounding hills. Being porous sand is a blessing and curse – that heavy rain does indeed run freely through the soil and I’m so grateful for the kikuyu holding it all in place as the water filters through the thick mat of rhizomes. The blessing is found in the free draining nature and after years of swamp dwelling, I’m so grateful for the sudden disappearance of ankle-deep lawn ponds shortly after the rain stops. Another sign we’ve had excessive rain is going to be costly. The gravel on the driveway has begun to wash away, leaving the potential for deep gouges in its wake. As much as this could be a costly fix, it also requires the art of skilful negotiation to ensure all of the neighbours who use the shared driveway can reach an amicable agreement before the next storm does even more damage. So, sitting on the sofa in pjs seems like the best choice in times like these.
There is only so much that can be done for the garden, in the house, except possible worry about the state of it as I peep through curtains to see if it is actually still there and hasn’t washed away. I’m pretty much up to date with all my computer gardening commitments. I could stretch off into advance territory and write about things still to come, but it hasn’t come to that… yet. I feel I need to do something for the good of the garden. Something to keep my hand in, to make me feel connected to the land, without getting my hands dirty or getting wet.
The most optimistic thing I can think of to do is plan for sunnier days. It may only be early days as far as winter goes, but it will be behind us before we know it. With each passing year the seasons seem to slip by faster and faster, and the memory of childhood’s never-ending summer is nothing more than an illusion when viewed through adult eyes.
Going back over my photos, I am reminded that there are dry days in winter, and some are even sunny and quite lovely. So, if I make a bold assumption that we will have our fair share of nice weather days to come, then I should do the opposite of making hay while the sun shines and seek out the tasks that could have me stuck inside when I’d rather be outdoors.
The biggest task that fills the brief is reviewing last season’s garden to see if it is still a good fit. Did we like the varieties of the things we grew? Did we have enough, too much or too little of our favourite things? Have the empty nest adjustments worked well or is there still tweaking to be done? Which items from the long list of observed improvements should be turned into reality? Which supplies would it be beneficial to begin accumulating now?
This would certainly fill my time until there is a substantial break in the rain to allow normal gardening activities to resume and something I could really sink my teeth into. It will involve clean sheets of paper with garden bed grids printed upon them, pouring through photos of seasons past, catching the nostalgic glow from a reflected summer sun, counting seeds to determine if there are enough, adjusting crop rotation cycles and making decisions that will shape the course of the next growing season, and even some very dangerous online shopping.
Come again soon – there is always so much hope in a brighter future when you have a garden.
Sarah the Gardener : o)