Aquatic plants are starting to flower in the pond
The banksia rose on the front wall
“You say tomarto and I say tomayto”, but yesterday I was confronted with no less than 1000 types of tomatoes. The American Women’s Group had arranged to visit the famous “Tomatologue” Monsieur Padebas south of Montpellier, and the first thing that we had to do was to circumnavigate the entire city in order to get there. As a rule, I fear nothing with regards to driving, but when I have to look for direction boards as well as cope with traffic, it can get a bit hairy, but with two excellent navigators, we seemed to cope really well.
Sadly my French is nowhere near good enough to understand the intracies of tomato growing, but he had provided two large catalogues which contained mouth watering photos of about fifty of the various varieties. Despite my intentions to resist purchasing any, I came away with two plants that promise to result in cascades of cherry tomatoes if the bugs, worms, slugs and caterpillars don’t get them.
Every time we inspect the garden, we find that things have been nibbled, chewed or totally digested, and I am constantly having to weigh up the plan to be organic or to allow Jean to mix up various lethal potions from the large supply left behind in the garage, and declare war on the varmints. A good bit of gardening advice came my way today and I was instructed to mix ash with egg shells and dig it in around the remaining courgette plants. Needless to say, we had omelettes for supper and Jean is going to barbeque sausages tomorrow in order to provide the mix.
Having not seen Spring for five years, it is such a joy to find that each day brings a new surprise. Our extensive vineyard of four vines is sending out shoots and leaves, and the climber that will eventually cover and shade the terrace is now coming into leaf. Daffodils and hyacinths are long over, and the front fence is now a cascade of yellow banksias roses, and no longer can the passing pedestrian recoil in horror at the sight of me in my gardening skirt, socks and boots.
We are slightly nervous due to the fact that the empty field on one side of us has a large sign in the trees stating that planning permission is being sought for three houses, and on the other side of us, the empty house that is only used for a couple of weeks of summer has a “Sold” sign up. There is nothing truer than the saying that neighbors can make or break your life, and we are just keeping our fingers crossed and praying that we aren’t suddenly invaded by noisy dogs, children and loud music. In the winter months it doesn’t really matter as everyone hibernates with windows and shutters closed against the cold, but with the onset of Spring, life takes to the garden.
To celebrate the onset of warmth, sunshine and the approach of summer, we are undertaking a 12km walk on Sunday and then hoping to get lucky at a local “vide grenier” which literally means “emptying the attic into the street” where we hope to pick up some old garden furniture that won’t object to being left out in all weathers. There is so much coming up that we have had to expand the calendar and ensure that we keep a close watch on it.
Sadly my French is nowhere near good enough to understand the intracies of tomato growing, but he had provided two large catalogues which contained mouth watering photos of about fifty of the various varieties. Despite my intentions to resist purchasing any, I came away with two plants that promise to result in cascades of cherry tomatoes if the bugs, worms, slugs and caterpillars don’t get them.
Every time we inspect the garden, we find that things have been nibbled, chewed or totally digested, and I am constantly having to weigh up the plan to be organic or to allow Jean to mix up various lethal potions from the large supply left behind in the garage, and declare war on the varmints. A good bit of gardening advice came my way today and I was instructed to mix ash with egg shells and dig it in around the remaining courgette plants. Needless to say, we had omelettes for supper and Jean is going to barbeque sausages tomorrow in order to provide the mix.
Having not seen Spring for five years, it is such a joy to find that each day brings a new surprise. Our extensive vineyard of four vines is sending out shoots and leaves, and the climber that will eventually cover and shade the terrace is now coming into leaf. Daffodils and hyacinths are long over, and the front fence is now a cascade of yellow banksias roses, and no longer can the passing pedestrian recoil in horror at the sight of me in my gardening skirt, socks and boots.
We are slightly nervous due to the fact that the empty field on one side of us has a large sign in the trees stating that planning permission is being sought for three houses, and on the other side of us, the empty house that is only used for a couple of weeks of summer has a “Sold” sign up. There is nothing truer than the saying that neighbors can make or break your life, and we are just keeping our fingers crossed and praying that we aren’t suddenly invaded by noisy dogs, children and loud music. In the winter months it doesn’t really matter as everyone hibernates with windows and shutters closed against the cold, but with the onset of Spring, life takes to the garden.
To celebrate the onset of warmth, sunshine and the approach of summer, we are undertaking a 12km walk on Sunday and then hoping to get lucky at a local “vide grenier” which literally means “emptying the attic into the street” where we hope to pick up some old garden furniture that won’t object to being left out in all weathers. There is so much coming up that we have had to expand the calendar and ensure that we keep a close watch on it.
