The first two days of this Spring Bank Holiday brought us welcome sunshine, and a chance to catch up on several jobs in the garden.
As well as general maintenance of the kitchen and ornamental borders, and quiet work in the greenhouse, the biggest job was to tackle the pile of old wood stacked at the feet of the horse chestnut and beech trees part-way down the garden. This mostly comprised old broken pallets from building supplies, and bits of rotten wood, that were not suitable for working.
King of the Hill swung his chainsaw and worked methodically through the pile, while I helped him process the wood, breaking the thinner pieces to a size that would fit in our stoves, and fill the wheelbarrow. He then stacked them in the woodstores around the garden, replenishing our kindling supplies.
We managed to rake up the worst of the sawdust from the area where the wood was processed, leaving rather a spindly patch of yellow grass that should soon rejuvenate. Overnight rain began to fall, which has continued sporadically through today – traditional Bank Holiday weather caught up with us after all.
A happy – and well timed – surprise then arrived late in the day, as one of the lovely ladies in the village, with whom I was chatting at the village seed swap that I organised recently, brought us two handsome hostas from divisions in her garden. I’ve stood these in their pots at the edge of this new woodland area, where I shall dig them in at the first opportunity – I missed my chance earlier today when the rain ceased and the skies cleared for a few hours.
A little more work is required here, as cuckoo pint, ivy and brambles have freely colonised this patch, but already we have one less eyesore in our garden, and a new, albeit small, area almost ready to plant. I have already filled this space in my head many times over, with a mix of woodland plants which will tolerate the dry soil at the feet of the mature trees, but won’t mind some sun. This area faces south, so that the morning and evening shade are interrupted by the scorch of midday sun despite the canopy of the trees.