I’ve been stuck in bed with the lurgy for several days, so getting back out into the garden this weekend has been a tonic. The long running saga of the Elusive Wheelbarrow Inner Tube Puncture having now been drawn to a satisfying resolution (I threw the damned thing away in disgust and bought a new one) and the barrow back in service, there’s not a single inch of bed or border that won’t benefit from a thorough seeing to, but I always choose to begin the gardening year here, at the start of the path, crouching beside the fragrant sarcococca and rummaging about in the leaf litter. With each old hellebore leaf snipped away, another encouraging sign emerges – flowers breaking bud, stems lengthening, snowdrops beginning to push through (it’ll be a fortnight or so till they begin to flower here). The ivy might be getting a little exuberant – its big cousin, the fatsia, definitely needs cutting back – and I can think of places I’d rather see wood avens and nettles, but these are tiny tweaks, and the process of restoring order in this spot is nothing but mindful pleasure.
Soil, plants, my hands and the tools they hold. What I can see before of me. The difference I can make in the next few moments.
My recipe for conquering garden overwhelm. Handy at this time of year.
A year of garden coaching
I’m very excited about my new venture – it’s a way for me to work with more people than I can physically get around to, helping them to make the very best of their gardens in a way that suits the life they lead. If you’d like to find out more, please click here.
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Hello! I’m Andrew, gardener, blogger, podcaster, and owner of a too-loud laugh, and I’m so pleased you’ve found your way to Gardens, weeds & words. You can read a more in-depth profile of me on the About page, or by clicking the image above.
