Mind your own business

Minding my own business is something I am quite good at, these days. This discretion is probably less born out of virtue than a consequence of my near reclusion. Apart from school runs and equivalent walking to and fro between children’s activities, I am my own company, which usually suits me. I have been spending all my free time in the garden, inspecting dahlia pots and sown bare ground where life is reluctant to show up, and mainly moving things around. (Yes, I did put some slug pellets inside the pots, for which I feel bad)

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I said, didn’t I, that I would be sensible enough not to disturb plants unnecessarily ? Yeah, well. Paeony, astilbes, agapanthus, phlox paniculata, geraniums played musical chairs, not to mention delphiniums, pulmonarias, santolinas, ferns, cowslips, forget-me-nots… and I forget the rest. A few weeks after its relocation, Acer Katsura is still sulking and I don’t expect forgiveness until next year. Viburnum plicatum Kilimandjaro Sunrise is now in the ground and the circular “lawn” lined with alchemilla mollis (yes, that thug, but this one is called Irish Silk, how to resist ?) and nasturtium (the French name, capucine, is so much nicer). Some redeployed plants :

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Where the viburnum pot was sitting, the grass has died. So after having read a few dozen webpages filled with frenzied questions about how to eradicate it, I shoved some mind-your-own-business in the hole.

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Yes, mind-your-own-business, angel’s tears, mother-of-thousands, Soleirolia soleirolii (syn. Helxine soleirolii).

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I garden for words as well as for plants. How would I not welcome something which comes with such a treasure of beautiful names ? Moreover, it is the only member of its genus – a bit of a recluse too, then – and it comes from the Mediterranean, apparently brought back from Corsica and Sardinia. And here I am, with a tightening heart and a rush of oxygen in the blood, on blue shores already.

What I have done might in fact not be as foolish as it seems : Kent is very dry these days, the little damp-loving invader will probably struggle. I am not expecting it to take over the whole garden soon, but we’ll see. Apologies to the next owners of my garden. I do hope they won’t be lawn lovers.

(Sometimes I ask myself if gardening is becoming a kind of addiction.)

By the way, the wisteria is now in flower. I am enraged at the impossibility to share decent pictures with this second-hand phone of mine, on behalf of which I foolishly got rid of a proper camera. Still, here is a simple narcissus poeticus, which I had completely forgotten and came up from under a mess of foxgloves and iris. A hint I should go back to writing ? Perfection anyway.

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