Delights of Compost and losing on the Grand National

Picture above, Pieris 'Forest Flame'

This weekend, which turned out better than expected after early rain on Saturday morning, was spent in the garden, in the shops, watching the occasional game of football on the TV and mucking about with compost. Yes you heard it here - compost!

'Television? Television is for being on dear boy, not watching.' Noel Coward.

Prior to our local authority providing a brown bin for compost, I used to make my own in a black bin in the garden made for the purpose. I emptied it on Sunday morning and got three barrow loads full of great looking stuff to spread onto the borders and to fork in among the sprouting hostas and begonias as well as for the benefit of some perennials and bedding plants which will arrive later. I will still use the bin for the benefit of my own garden because I'm not sure I want compost from someone elses garden returned by the local authority from wherever it is they take it and compost it.

The success of good composting? I'm not an expert at all, but my personal success is simple: kitchen waste, uncooked of course - all the peelings and wasted green food or vegetables out of the fridge and cupboards that we don't use in time. On top of that, a layer of grass clippings (with no weed and feed in it) then more kitchen waste, then cardboard egg boxes and then a layer of barley that I buy in a bale. After a while, I turn it and mix it and then start again with the layers and believe me, despite all that rotting material, there's no smell other than that of fresh earth. There is enough moisture in the veg and grass so I don't water it.

I lift the lid and its full of insects and worms all doing their bit to compost the material down into a gorgeous friable brown 'stuff' which I simply fork in. I suppose the experts would say it should be forked in in November to winter over and let the frost get to it - but I just do it when I get round to it.

Following my dismal failure to pick the Grand National winners (one fell and other pulled up), I'll stick to losing my money on the National Lottery which again was a spectacular non event for me this weekend and after I specifically asked the assistant in Sainsburys to give me a winner.

Lord Amherst, an army officer as far back as the eighteenth century said, "There are three ways of losing money: racing is the quickest, women the most pleasant, and farming the most certain."

Chat soon

Ta-ra.

Ne'er cast a clout 'till May is out...

What do you call it when worms take over the world? Global Worming!

Spring seems to be here and the birds are singing again. Although there is a warning of colder weather returning soon, going to work and going home in daylight makes all the difference. I noticed a neighbour’s garden has drifts of snowdrops in flower and with fewer frosts I actually had the window at work open these last two days.

I love the garden and I don’t really touch it at all after picking up the last of the leaves in mid December. Two months absence will be at an end next week when I have a few days off work and tidying up ready for the year ahead starts in earnest. The fish will be looking forward to a few bits of wheat germ based food after a winter of abstinence – something they can digest easily. I won’t clean the pond out just yet; they don’t like being disturbed too much when they are torpid. I’ve had the pond waterfall going all winter and that’s kept the water reasonably filtered and clear for them.

Sitting in the garden at dusk is magical this time of year. The air is generally still, the cloud formations are so attractive; the birdsong is clear and melodious and when it gets chilly, a hot cup of tea and a warm fire beckons.

The grass has survived well and I have some compost from a compost bin with last year’s green kitchen waste and clippings that need to be forked in around the borders. I will be pruning some shrubs and getting ready to sit out on a tidy patio.

This is the only real exercise I get and am thoroughly looking forward to it. I only wish I could afford Garden Force to come in and give me some ideas for a small patio for us to sit on in the middle of the garden.

Ne'er cast a clout 'till May is out... I can't give you a literal translation, but essential it means don't take a chance in taking any layers of clothes off until June arrives, because this country is famous for its last minute chilly spells as we get lulled into a false sense of security.

Chat soon

Ta-ra