Yep, it's been awhile...so long in fact, I wasn't sure if I'd still be allowed to post here...but happy days, I've not been denied and whilst this post is barely deserving of the name, I just want to put it out there that I'm making my way back...slowly but surely. 

Spring is in the air, bees are hard at work and Magic Garden thrums with the sound of their labour. This burnt orange mollis azalea is the most intense pop of colour in the front yard. I do a mental double take every time I pull in the drive.

Tip-toe time!

Every time spring rolls around, I feel it is my favourite time of year...but then I realise I feel like that about summer and autumn as well. I'd like to wax lyrical about winter as well but in truth, my intellectual appreciation for this dormant period is tempered by the fact that the Blue Mountains are just so bloody cold. No matter how many layers I put on, winter gardening is cumbersome and often brutally windswept. I know that winter is the perfect time to consider the form of your garden, to prune dormant plants and remove any dead limbs, and improve the quality of your soil. So yes, the garden  maintenance jobs have all been ticked off the checklist but for some reason, it just isn't as rewarding as other times in the year. Put this down to my issues with instant gratification, I guess. 

One thing I have done this winter is workshop my plans for Magic Garden's reorganisation - once we put the barn in the back corner, we'll need to create a driveway from front to back. The need for this structure is entirely my husband's and I've known it was coming, since the purchase of Magic Garden was contingent on there being space for such a barn. Now that we've had a survey done and discussions with our architect proceed apace, I'm actually in a position to start planning where the new drive will go, how the garden beds will be positioned, what plants will be retained and how I want the space to look. 

Which isn't as easy as it sounds - there are so many factors to take into consideration - not the least being the desire to manipulate the layers of the planting and the landscape so that there is always something in flower and providing a focal point and a sense of depth. However, I'm proud to announce that I have come to one solid conclusion. I have some lovely lavender that will need to be relocated when we renovate the house, and I think it'll provide the perfect backdrop to a display of red tulips, much like the example shown above. The lavender is in flower pretty much all year, as I'm a conscientious dead-header and the tulips will create a pleasing contrast in the spring. All that remains is to decide on a suitable planting scheme for in front of the tulips, as they don't last particularly long and look very messy as they die off. Some type of clipped hedge should give lend a sense of formality, in contrast to the lavender's feathery branches and would neatly hide the tulip's brown foliage once their time has passed.  How's that for a plan!

   

My tulip inspiration shot came from a divine garden in South Leura, Cherrydell North. I love gardens that have names and I'm especially tickled by the signage on the Cherrydell North gate. This is the sort of metalwork that you rarely see anymore, it speaks of another time and place, when having something made by hand was the only way it would get done. 

Which fungus IS that?

Turkeytail? Giant Polypore? Hairy Curtain Crust? Smokey Bracket?

Part of the winter maintenance program at Magic Garden has involved the removal of some scarily, large dead branches from some of our scarily, large trees. I'm pleased to say that I was not the person up the tree, chain saw in hand! As you can see, fungus has played a major role in the die back of this limb and according to our tree man, the tree this particular branch came from needs to be removed completely. In truth, it isn't the most majestic specimen (I feel like I'm betraying the tree by saying that!) and whilst its removal will be costly, we'll certainly gain more sun penetration in that patch of Magic Garden. 

The role of fungi in the eco-system is fundamental in the decomposition of organic matter. They're present in soil, dead matter and in symbiotic relationships with plants, animals and interestingly, other fungi. Along with yeasts and moulds and the more obvious mushrooms, Fungi are considered a kingdom within  the taxonomic structure of biology because unlike from plants, animals and bacteria, their cellular walls contain chitin rather than cellulose and this is about where the very helpful Wikipedia page lost me, to be honest! What I have learnt is when it comes to trees, it's parasitic fungi you have to watch out for, that trees which are under stress due to bark injury, broken branches or drought are more susceptible to parasitic fungi...and that identification of fungus is a job left to the professionals! 

it's been awhile...

I was going to wait until June 30th, just so it was properly 6 months since my last post. Confessing this make me glad I'm not Catholic; I'd definitely be crap at it and probably lapsed. It also makes me aware of my own tendencies to put things off until a more auspicious or meaningful time approaches. Which is maybe a more sophisticated form of procrastination...but procrastination all the same. But you know, my fingers are itching to just tap tap tap out something which is just me...so this post is playing catch up. Nothing earth shattering, just a few bits and pieces that have made me smile. 

Whale Hedge 

This is an image from a piece I did recently for The Cloudscape, it's a website I work on with some of my most lovely mates. It showcases all that is designed, crafted and happening along our stretch of the Great Western Highway. If you're curious as to what's hidden behind this mountainside mammal, or want to know more  about what's happening at this particular altitude, you should check The Cloudscape out!

Something I love about travelling is taking the opportunity to visit noteworthy gardens. This shot could be in Japan, but it's actually from Mayfield Garden, just out of Oberon. I'd always felt a little bad that I'd never had a wander through this showpiece, which so relatively close to home. And now, I'm excited to say, I have! 

This shot shows the silver birch glade, under planted with hellebore. Winter flowering, the hellebore create a soft canopy which is an especially nice contrast as the trees above lose their leaves. 

I'm don't want to go into too much about Mayfield as I plan to write about it more fully for The Cloudscape. But it is a wonderful example of what can be achieved in a cool climate garden, especially one of this size. With over 40 acres to play with and 25 gardeners on staff, this garden is best described as a folly in the grandest sense of the word!

I recently made the acquaintance of this wonderful old bloke, Doug. His garden is on the corner opposite my daughter's pre-school and each summer, into autumn I have admired his spectacular display of dahlias. This is just one of the many that line his nature strip. He's been tending his predominately dahlia garden for over 50 years and when I asked why dahlias, he told me that his late wife had loved them - enough for me to get a touch teary. This is something I love; that plants and gardens can be the conduit that says I care and I want to make you happy.

I asked Doug if he had any tips for the wanna be dahlia grower and he was pretty succinct. He cuts them back each year and every other year, he'll lift before it gets too cold. He then stores the tubers in sawdust and replant in the spring. Thanks to Wikipedia, I've also recently learnt that the dahlia is the national flower of Mexico. 

I am proud to report that despite a dismal summer, my artichokes did manage to set fruit. What I am not overly proud of is that I am not nearly disciplined enough to actually prepare them and cook with them. Instead, I am thrilled by their sea anemone style of the petal structure and I'm ok with the fact that I'm happy to let the plant go to seed. Artichokes also clump up really well. I dug this one out, split it up and had around 12 pretty good sized new plants. I was dubious about a couple which didn't have much in the way of a root system, but they're a hardy plant and all are thriving. Never be afraid to get dividing, people! I would add, snails also really like artichokes so you do want to keep on eye on them shredding the leaves.  

Magic Garden Autumn 2012

Gardening is one of my preferred forms of procrastination - there's a worthwhile outcome as opposed to just sitting on a chaise lounge popping bon-bons in one's mouth - but these last 6 months, it seems that the weather has conspired against me. The summer proper was wet, wet, wet and the indian summer I'd been so optimistically  counting on, came on too late and now...it is just so cold. Truthfully, it's been a teensy bit depressing. But there have been bright spots...discovering that a bird had made its nest at the top of one of our tulip trees has made me feel slightly more kindly towards the autumn...

but I can't wait for spring!

It's been a rather busy, and sad festive season mountainside and it feels like I've dropped more balls than I've had in the air, if such a thing is possible. New Year's resolutions abound and without going into all the boring details, paying more attention to this blog is one of them. Though I'm not overly interested in the moment the clock strikes twelve, I am very happy to celebrate the fact that I've persisted with Magic Garden, both on the ground and here, in the ether. I'm not going dwell on the disappointments of the last year, suffice to say, there won't be any green tomato chutney at our next Christmas feast... but these are some of the most recent highlights...

This time last year, I was in an extremely reflective mood. Our new baby had just come home from hospital after an ever-so-scary bout of viral meningitis and I was full of gratitude that we were home, that she was on the mend and so conscious of the lovely friends and family who supported us so wonderfully during that time. I love the idea of using plants and gardens to commemorate important events, whether they're joyous or solemn and when I was in hospital with Miss E, it bothered me greatly that I hadn't planted the magnolia I'd bought to mark her birth. Getting that plant in the ground was top of my to-do list, come the New Year. I'm just so pleased to present this image of her Magnolia's first flower! I love how the blossom is sheathed by its petals, how the pollen has fallen, that this plant has thrived in step with our little girl.

Our big girl is not quite as helpful in Magic Garden as I'd like; her weeding skills are yet to come to the fore! But she is very good at picking posies and strawberries...though it was a challenge to get this shot before she ate them all. Planting fruit and veggies that little people can help to harvest is so rewarding and the one of the best ways to get them interested in trying different types of produce. Who cares if they're not good at weeding as long as they eat healthily!

Two new crops I planted this year were garlic and broadbeans. Both required some discipline in the preparation stakes - that is I actually planted them when I was supposed to. I should have double the amount of garlic but I made a slight error in two of the patches, oversowing with a clever clover mix that I chose to let go...and go...until it flowered and I realised that Id created too much competition in the bed for the garlic to really succeed. Companion planting is all very well, but it does pay to actually follow the tried and tested suggestions, I guess, rather than make up your own...

And here are my broad beauties! Miss C and I planted the seeds together on one of the rare occasions that popping in seeds has held her interest. She wasn't blown away by the taste of the fresh beans, straight from the pod but I was and I have been busily cooking with them ever since. I think my fava favourite is to blend them up with lemon juice and a little salt and pepper, then serve as a bruschetta topping. Top with some fetta or goat's cheese marinated in olive oil and share. Bon appetit and happy new year.

on the 7th day of Christmas...

...my lovely neighbour gave to me, a bowl of ripe raspberries.

Whilst she is not my true love, how can you not LOVE LOVE LOVE a neighbour like that? Not only does my lovely neighbour feed my cat when I'm away, she offers up scrumptious summer berries like these. Plus, she's away for a couple of days and said we should pop over and pick more! No matter what your denomination, and I'm firmly non, how can you not count your blessings when you have neighbours like these and the freshest raspberries on your plate? I had been dithering about whether I should get some raspberry canes and now, I shall dither no longer. I will find the perfect place and plant as soon as I can get my pink stained fingers on the plants! Even our fussy E.D. couldn't resist, that's her reaching out for some raspberry love.

As deciduous trees go, the Copper Beech takes its own sweet time to lose its leaves. The leaves never drop, they remain on the branch, shielding the new growth in their husks. In terms of hours spent raking, you can't really accuse this tree of making work for you! When the new leaves unfurl, they have a delightfully soft quality that creates the translucency you see in this image. Two weeks later, the greenish blush of the new leaf has hardened up into a dark maroon and a completely different tree stands in Magic Garden.

First sweetpea of the season. Sweet.

sunset on October

Hard to believe that it is now November. We're on the downhill run to Christmas and the New Year will be here before we know it. Yikes! This shot shows the gloaming at its finest and at this time of year, the sunset is starting to move further to the left. In Magic Garden, this creates the most delightful glow through the copper beech and dancing shadows across the garage and throughout the house. If I was a photoshop whiz, I'd have eliminated the bag of mulch you can see in the background and added myself, vino in one hand and watering can in the other...

Old fashioned petal, old fashioned scent

Not quite the latest triumph in Magic Garden; as Spring is waving her magic wand in every corner - but certainly one I feel very proud now to claim as my own. When we first moved in, this wisteria had been languishing under the Hills Hoist, trapped and somewhat stunted. It wasn't flourishing and seemed to not have the even the energy required to colonise the hoist. As creating my kitchen garden beneath was my first priority, this lovely lady needed a new home. Hedging my bets, and loving the idea of an ugly garage transformed, I trimmed her root ball and placed her, well fertilised in a half-wine barrel. Then I got busy with the secateurs, the sugar cane mulch and proceeded to drown her with water. And a year later, I realised, that the soil mix was far too heavy with clay and I'd compounded the drainage issues with too. much. mulch. This was when I first came to understand the depths of my mulch addiction.

Fast forward, 2 years later: I am pleased, actually ecstatic to report that my attempts at rehabilitation (mark 2) have been a resounding success and I offer the following images as a poor-man's time lapse of how the buds came into bloom.

The reformed stoner in me found this point the source of much amusement. What can I say? Sweet buds, dude.

Here, we start to develop a little more length and you can just see the first flecks of mauve...

Now, Lady Wisteria enters her pre-historic, 'how to tame your dragon,' mode...

Making a run up the trellis and if all is going according to plan, next year should see a curtain of blooms running across the top of the playroom's window.

And voila!

Purple, lilac or mauve - how ever you'd describe the hue, I think you'd agree that this image is worth repeating as I am, as I mentioned previously, ECSTATIC! Looking closely at how the flowers are formed, you can definitely see that the wisteria is a member of the flowering pea family. These pendulous racemes occur before the new leaves emerge and are all the more striking for being the first of the season's growth. Pruning back to the bud after flowering increases the next year's show and I'm sure that this has made a big difference in this particular plants return to form. Like any climber, a wisteria can quickly became an invasive weed, especially if the plant is under stress.

The largest wisteria can be found in Sierra Madre, California. According to Wikipedia, it measures more than an acre in size and is estimated to weigh over 250 tons. Holy Moly, plant lovers! For a truly impressive specimen in the Southern Hemisphere, I recommend an early Spring visit to the Norman Lindsay Gallery in Faulconbridge, NSW, Australia. And if you are selecting plants on the basis of the scent they offer, wisteria's is a very gentle olfactory pleasure and one you should definitely consider.

Long weekend. Daylight Savings. Local garden festival. Happy days...

More snaps of the Leura Garden Festival to follow in the next few days. This shot shows the rare white cherry blossom - I do so love any contrast to the sickly musk stick pink that is completely ubiquitous in this neck of the woods. Wandering around gardens that are festival spec is a complete inspiration to this lady gardener...the return to Magic Garden has me feeling motivated and often, deflated. There is so much work to do before I could even begin to consider 'showing.' Take a number, sunshine, make a list.

Magnolias are another bloom that sing Spring, they anchor the season in the my memory and remind me particularly of the area I grew up. Trees as dominating as the houses whose front lawns they decorate and more than ample to play house in. Up here, you don't see them as frequently, when you do they're not usually as majestic. But the tree these came from is the one of the exceptions. It is easily as tall as my lovely neighbour's house and is a perfect example of a deciduous tree, in the perfect place. Facing north-east, it provides shady respite in the summer and maximises the sun's warmth in winter. In between, there are these drinkable blooms to enjoy; their shape reminds me of tea cups and crooked pinky fingers.

i do love to ponce about pretending to be a professional florist...

At the Gospel Hall, our old abode, Husbando had planted the Magnolia "Star Wars," as a tribute to his love of the George Lucas epic. It tickles me that somewhere out there, an earnest cultivator channelled his inner fanboy in order to give his labour of love such a nerdy name. I really hope that that is the truth and it wasn't a decision driven by the cynicism of the marketing machine. The realist in me knows the latter is most probably the truth, but the optimist is ever Pollyanna.

Magic Garden however, is all but magnolia free - another weird omission by Mrs Batty. I would so love to uncover her gardening notebooks, tucked behind the outdoor dunny. Perfect! Though it does feel inappropriate to imagine my genteel Mrs Batty making notes on the bog...I digress, swept away by toilet talk no less! When our new baby was born, I did plant one of the dwarf varieties, the evergreen "Little Gem." The leaves are a darker green, with an underside that is a russet - bronze colour. The flowers are a simple cream inverted bell and the whole ensemble seems hardier to me and somehow more suited to the Australian landscape. They are slow growing and happily, frost tolerant. In the year that ours has graced the prime position by the letter box, I really don't think it's grown significantly but apparently, it could reach between 4 and 8m high and be upto 5m wide. At this stage, it seems the baby has outperformed the tree...this is how it should be perhaps?

Two of my favourite ladies have returned home from holidays, each bearing the most delightful news...congratulations and hooray for everything, I say!

So much of Magic Garden's beauty pre-dates me entirely; each season I feel like I am reacquainting myself with each element and this process of rediscovery thrills me. The collection above represents just some of the camellia varieties that Mrs Batty was so enchanted with. I would love to set myself the challenge of learning the name of each but really, looking through the pages of my trusty, doorstop-sized Gardening Australia Flora's Trees and Shrubs, there really are just so many different cultivars that it's quite overwhelming and I can't make any assertions with any confidence. Plus, the light in my study isn't the greatest!

the white varieties are a bright spot on a misty mountains

morning...but must they brown up so badly?

Suffice to say, the majority of my camellias flowering at the moment are japonica with a few reticulata, the difference being that the latter's leaves are darker and narrower in comparison to the japonica and their rose pink flowers have a larger and open form. According to my Gardening Australia doorstop, there are over 2000 cultivars of japonica which makes me feel better about not becoming an instant identification guru. One of these, 'Anita,' is especially sweet, narrow pale pink petals, streaked with maroon. She's a more magnolia type of bloom and kind of reminds me of painting on silk, whereas other deviations from block colour seems to be more of tint that bleeds to the edges. Does that make any sense to anyone but me? God knows, I'm hardly an expert in the field of painting on silk either...

A big thank-you to lovely Mimi, who kindly put all these images together in these very professional looking grids. Have I told you lately that YOU are AWESOME?

Hello Hellebores! Hello Spring!

This type of shot makes me want to start super-imposing tiny creatures of the fey, in pearlescent outlines, so they could be seen in one direction but not the other. Spooky. As you've probably guessed my nous in this regard leaves alot to be desired and so rest assured, that won't eventuate. However, if you've visited and found that the images invisible, my apologies, I need some remedial image management lessons, I'm working on it and in short, I'm embarrassed...

But this is the first day of Spring, calendar wise and though it will take a little longer to work its way up the hill, I'm embracing today like my first born. This time last year, I was in a haze of pregnancy and this seasonal milestone passed me by. Even still, now that our new baby has been 9months in and 9months out, days still pass me by...but not today, people, not today! She started out overcast but burnt off into unapologetic blue, her brilliance almost accusatory as if to say, 'Oh, really? You doubted me?' If only the sky could talk...

A rainy day mountainside; I'm so glad I took this shot yesterday and even more pleased that I took the time to plant up these bulbs, earlier in the year. There's been alot of self congratulations from the back steps!

2 months. Almost 9 weeks. 62 days. You could be forgiven for thinking I'd hung up my hat and gone home. In a way, I have! But these are the cold hard facts and I'm putting them upfront because they're shocking and I'm embarrassed. The worse thing is that whilst I could give you an overview as to where the time has gone, there's no way I can account for 62 days. Sure, there's been a whirl of interstate travel punctuated by brutal windstorms and then unbelievable days of Indian Summer in Winter. But we're now two-thirds of the way through winter and to be honest, I'm panicking and often sit on the back steps feeling overwhelmed. But the scent of Spring is on the breeze and my broad beans have germinated. Blossoms are busting out all over, pierus is cascading and the rhodos and camellias are ready to dominate. And all over Magic Garden, pockets of daffodil and jonquil are erupting. Snowdrops are bobbing and grape hyacinths and purple crocus compete against Oprah Winfrey for a role in the reprise of the Colour Purple. Crocus is up in terms of sheer numbers but the hyacinths have a more intense hue. Who'll take the Oscar this time, I wonder?

Garden-wise, Winter has a reputation for being a period of dormancy; it's permissible to let things slide. But it is also one of the best times to make hard decisions about the shape of your garden. For me, the toughest choice I've made of late is to toss that old hat in the shot above. It's been a trusty part of my garden couture but there's only so many times you can repair the crown of straw hat before you start looking more jingle-jangle scarecrow than Flake lady. When trees are bare and legs are hairy, you can see the structure more clearly so it's a good time to identify plants which aren't working in the overall landscape and earmark them for transplantation when the weather warms. Plants which aren't thriving at all can simply be removed. In Magic Garden, I've nominated some rather spindly Azaleas which are for the tip and a big patch of seaside daisy which needs to be cut back before it completely engulfs the hebes. I've decided where I'll relocate the weeping Cherry if we ever renovate and I've finally started construction on a ring bed around the base of one of the biggest cherry trees. Next autumn, I'll pop in some of my many scattered daffodil bulbs and this time next year, share the joy.

During my meditations on the back step, I've been trying to come up with space for one of these divine chinese flowering quinces. The crimson cultivars of the superba are the perfect antidote to the fairy floss pink of the prunus which dominate at this time of year. Plus, I love the clash of pink and red together. The flowers emerge from a thicket of rather spiny stems which can reach heights of around 1.5 metres. Their spread is nearly 2 metres which makes me wonder if maybe I should aiming higher and be planning a hedge instead.

Magnolia x Loebneri...maybe...I think...could be Stellata?

And finally, I'm sure I've mentioned this before but despite the variety within Magic Garden, strangely magnolias aren't featured anywhere. I've planted a hybrid by the letterbox which goes by the name of Little Gem but I fear it's got a long way to go before it flowers. The specimen above is one I've come watch for each year when visiting some of my favourite people. You know who you are!

The image above depicts how I felt last Sunday morning; a tiny tendril of consciousness trying valiantly to penetrate a rather blank corner in my mind. Sadly, this isn't a faked photo* but an actual example of Magic Garden's tenacious efforts to infilitrate the house, Yes, that is the corner of our stereo languishing on the floorboards, still not set up 18 months after we've moved in. Yes, buying a new iPod style set-up was easier than finding a place for the old one and its companions, the big ass technik speakers. No, the digital radio hasn't quite been tuned in yet.

In refering to 'house', it occurs to me that I'd really like to use the word 'cottage' which is a rather pastoral view of our abode, if ever there was one. The C word invokes a bucolic exsistence where I grow all our fruit and veg and keep livestock, chooks at least, sauntering out in my Flake lady hat collecting eggs as the sunrises. Truth be told, the closest I've come to keeping chooks is going on a hen's night. The two pasttimes really aren't that dissimiliar; each lady must be kept fed and watered, with a close eye on the proximity of foxes...which brings me neatly back to why I felt so dusty last Sunday morning. One of this lady gardener's oldest friends is getting married and she came up specially from Melbourne to celebrate! Which is so thoughtful as we're all travelling down for the big day and in order to show our gratitude, seven of her nearest and dearest Sydney sisters really put the boat out. Gorgeous girls in fabulous frocks with drinks at the revised Norfolk, dinner at Eat House Diner and then a ring-ding of sing-song somewhere on Clarence St.

The Japanese culture has made some rather significant contributions to modern life but for me, the hands down over sushi, sashimi and tempura, the winner is karaoke. What is it about confined spaces, table service preferably and singing your guts out? There is something life affirming is singing en masse, no matter how drunk and silly you are. Yes, my hangover the next day was shocking. Yes, I am scared to see the photos. No, I don't care and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat...or a Phil Collins' drum solo. So a big shout out to all the ladies on Saturday night, particularly Results TSAI who came in whipped that playlist into submission and Miss Staples who whipped up an alternate venue when we were too late for our initial booking at Ding Dong Dang. What a wonderful knees up for our beaming bride in her chickadee tiara; a hen's night is one of the nicest rituals of modern day life, up there with kitchen teas and baby showers. So lovely to pay tribute to the bravery involved in leaving the known behind and embarking on an adventure in life, on a bicycle built for two. Looking forward to seeing you all south of the border for round two!
My top ten Karaoke hits, in no particular order:

Scissor Sisters, Take Your Mama
The Carpenters, Rainy Days and Mondays
Elton John, Benny and the Jets
Phil Collins, In the Air Tonight
Womack & Womack, Teardrops
The B-52's, Love shack
Madonna, Like a Virgin
Bon Jovi, Living on a Prayer
Duran Duran, Hungry like the Wolf
Survivor, Eye of the Tiger
Toto, Africa
Salt n Pepper, Push It
The Police, Roxanne
Dolly Parton, 9 to 5 or Islands in the Stream
Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody
Sonny & Cher, I Got You Babe
Pat Benetar, Love is a Battlefield
Anything by Carole King

Well, more than ten but good to have a reference for next time! Between a sushi train and an onsen, a karaoke parlour is something that is definately missing from the mountside lineup. Anyone takers, anyone?

ps: if you found yourself on the mornington penninsula anmd were keen for some snow monkey frolicking, go here: http://www.peninsulahotsprings.com/



*you know me, a whiz with photoshop!

On Sunday, before the rain began in earnest, I spent a very happy time pottering about Magic Garden, sprinkling blood and bone like fairy dust and deheading the last of the roses. Miss C helped me plant the first of the broad beans and in the space where most of my echium had been, we made a bed of leeks. During some harsh winds last week, the echium I'd bought at the last Bilpin Rare Plant Fair had had its central stem blown clear away. It had been no bigger than my hand and I'd congratulated myself regularly on how wonderful it was looking. Well over a metre high and a good two wide. Pride goes before a fall, they say...only three lateral branches remain and I'm hoping to encourage them to set root. Who knows if it'll work, I've gone for the layering technique as they were all but on the soil anyway and have heaped some lovely, potent vegie patch mix from Tunks over each. I've a feeling they might be too woody to take, we shall see.

Whilst I was admiring these sasanqua camellias out the front, I was stopped by a gentleman who had known Magic Garden's original owner, Mrs Batty. I often think of her and it tickles me that this happens, people who knew Mrs Batty are so keen to let me know how thrilled she'd be to know her garden was being restored with love and mindfulness. Positive reinforcement makes a world of difference, particularly when it sometimes feels that progress is slow. It's nice to know that others can see the improvement and that the person who had gardened so lavishly and passionately would approve. Well into her nineties, Mrs Batty could be seen working away in the gloaming and I can only hope that I might be just as spry.

Things your mother told you...

No matter how frigid the weather outside, up mountainside if the sun is shining and the wind factor is low, you have to be happy...except if you've sucumbed to some random illness and then given it to both your children. Then malaise of epic proportions sets in and it seems there's not enough stiff up lip in the world to get you out and about. And worst of all, you know that the smallest effort will make all the difference. Sometimes I think my totem animal is the hippotamus, I love a good wallow.

Thankfully, after a week of this carry on, on Saturday I finally managed to shake off the shackles and get out into Magic Garden. A simple afternoon in the autumn sunshine, planting clever clover, radish and more garlic; transplanting some succulents and the last if the butterfly plant.

It's true: fresh air does you the world of good.

finally...

The problem as viewed from Miss C's bedroom.

As I mentioned recently, I have what some might call a procrastination problem...I prefer to reconceptualise this issue as a gestational solutions-based paradigm. Which means, I simply can't stand making a decision for the sake of being able to say I have done. I'd rather take my time and allow the way of proceeding to present itself in the fullness of time. And when it comes pecolating down or bubbling up or however it arrives, it feels good and right and you can move forward knowing you've not wasted time or more frustratingly, money. This approach is more correctly called a discipline, as it requires much; it is especially well suited to matters of the heart...and gardening.

Since we took on Magic Garden, Husbando and I had loosely decided to work front to back; pruning, removing noxious weeds and improving the soil with mushroom compost and sugar cane mulch. Then, the plan was to leave it for a year and see what happened. To be truthful, finances didn't really allow for much else! But now that our self-imposed moratorium on decision making has passed, it feels like it's time to start slowly making some improvements. As always, the onus is there to avoid pointless, pretty, busy work and focus on things that actually need doing. Ah, the conundrums of modern life...what happens when you're aware of what needs to be done but can't decide on the resolution? Enter the gestational solutions-based paradigm and allow the universe to provide!

In the front yard of Magic Garden, there was a clearing that had been loosely paved by very old rock. Nothing too special, it was slippery and uneven and featured a horror show of a blackberry infestation. In my frugal state of mind, I decided that I could use that rock to make an attractive stone wall elsewhere and dug it all out. Of course, the stone wall got waylaid and now I have an even weedier mess than I started with. Oh, the joy of pointless pretty, busy work! However, now that I have repackaged high calibre indecisiveness as a gestational solution-based paradigm, I am proud to announce my course of action has been revealed...in the UK mag, Living etc.


The solution kindly provided by Living etc. May 2011

Using the hot pink rhodo as a central point, recycled sleepers will radiate out like spokes on a bike. These will act like stepping stones of sorts and also break up the expanse of gravel in between. Only question now is what type of gravel? I'm leaning towards crushed pink granite, which should work nicely when the rhodo is in bloom. And if it ever stops raining and we get this project sorted before we see the first blossoms, I'll be very pleased.