Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Laurels not Hardy


Tuesday 10th April 2012















I woke up to a clear, fresh morning. The air felt sharp and clean. To the South a glorious moon, to the East a fiery sunrise.



A layer of ice prevented the chickens from drinking until I broke through it for them, but as the sun broke the horizon I felt an instant warming on my back. It was going to be a lovely day.


I erected the "Piglets For Sale" sign. This sign caused untold controversy last time it was erected, with some selfish so-and-so complaining to more than one authority about it and a couple of apes from the Highways Agency ripping it from the ground under instruction from their useless boss. I retrieved it from the back of their van ready for the next batch of piglets. Spending cuts may not be welcome, but lets hope that at least they weed out the incompetent and the jobs-worths!

Anyway, rant over.
The sign is back up, firmly on our land. Because I've had to move it back a few feet, I had to take out a line of laurels which obscured it from passing traffic. A couple of these were LARGE and demanded some persistent digging, tugging, grunting and groaning before they finally gave up and released their hold from the earth. I couldn't save all their roots, but hopefully they will survive in their new home where they protect the greenhouses from the ravages of a south-westerly wind.

Some of the smaller laurels did not survive the night of the big freeze back in the winter, and it is becoming apparent that several of the more exotic plants succumbed too. The olive, a small bay, mahonias, the witchhazel, hibiscus, pawpaw and maybe the kiwi. There is a chance that some of these will spring back into life, but they have certainly been hit very hard and it is touch and go. We live and learn. If and when I replace them, I will protect them with straw if such ridiculously low temperatures threaten again.



Weasel Ridge
Sue worked hard again today. She managed to dig another strawberry bed under a fruit tree, then set to work on Weasel Ridge.

When I carved the veg beds out of the sheep paddock, pagan walls of upturned turfs needed a new home, so Weasel Ridge was created. After a year, the turfs have rotted down nicely. A couple of days ago I set Mr Rotavator loose on the mound, and today Sue extracted all remaining weeds and sowed it up with hundreds of poppy seeds. It should provide a huge splash of colour in a couple of months, and will only need cultivating at the end of each year to repeat the same show year on year.


By the way, I am hoping that the "Pork For Sale" signs will deter all those visitors looking to buy a pet pig who called in last time the Piglets sign was up.
Pet pig! Ridiculous!

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