Welcome to Mama Long’s unguided guide to gardening. Stop laughing! Now, that I am closer to 40 than I am to shot-drinking age, I have decided to embrace what I formerly referred to as “old people projects”.
Last year, we moved into our first home. Yippee! Projects! Me love projects. Once spring came, I decided that we needed a flower bed or four and I was going to dig them. So I borrowed a pick-axe from Daddy dearest. I am the oldest of four children. My siblings are of the male variety. When they heard I wanted to dig the flower beds myself, they laughed.
“You won’t be able to do that yourself – the size of ya!”
Hmmmm, well, suck on this, clown features! (Please note, it is perfectly acceptable for me to call my brothers’ derogatory names. However, if anyone else does it, they might get a boot up the bum. I think that’s some sort of law).
And, no, before you ask. I was not digging a hole in which to bury my husband! Why would I do that? He’s the one who takes out the bins. He’s a very valuable asset to the family.
Here are some photos of last year’s garden.
Not too shabby for a first attempt. I made the following errors:
I bought too many bedding plants – mainly violas – and they all, sort of, grew together in a big tangle. But a colourful tangle, so that was nice.
I planted too many sweet-peas, not realising how tall they grow, and my garden looked like it had tentacles. On the plus side, I had millions of cut flowers for my kitchen and they smelled super yummy.
When I planted my hydrangeas, they started to die, I was very upset because I had planted these in memory of my Nana. When hubbie replanted them, he was proud to announce,
“Darling, you didn’t dig a deep enough hole and the earth was too loose around the roots. But don’t worry, I’ve saved the plants and indeed, saved the day.”
While I was grateful he had rescued my much loved flora, the “Thank you” that exited my gob tasted like vinegar on my tongue. I’d be hearing about this horticultural rescue mission for the next decade.
What to do after destructive winter.
So, now, my garden looks a bit sad and rough. First job, extract the weeds. Well, I just took out the big ones and left the rest. My daughter was eating dirt from the flower bed so I had to prioritise.
Secondly, buy a heap of bulbs from the nearby bargain store.
I included two pot plants so that I get instant bloom in my garden and I have something colourful to look at.
Third step: Dig a heap of holes to put bulbs in
Uhhhh! I forgot that my brother broke my trowel last year. A dessert spoon will do. I’ll leave it in the shed as a gardening tool.
Fourth step: Put in plants and bulbs as per instructions
Now, there was all this blurb on the back about digging to a depth of 10cm; plant 15cm apart, blah, blah. I left my ruler in secondary school so I estimated a good depth, which is probably wrong, but we’ll see what happens in summer.
Fifth step: Remember that you already have gladioli bulbs from last year in the damn shed that you can plant out
How in the name of Buddha are they going to grow into a plant? Just chuck them in the ground Irene!
Sixth step: Place ornaments in flower bed
I love my little Buddha. I must clean the bird poop off his head though.
Seventh and final step: Have a root through the shed for those toy insects I bought last year on sticks and lob them into the flower beds. Baby Bear loves those.
Peep! Can you see me?
There in ends my unguided guide to gardening. Now, I just need to wait for summer to see what decided to grow.