In which I foil and am foiled
It’s the fourth of March and here in southern England its’s supposed to snow tonight.
What? I shouted at the radio. WHAT? It’s March! It’s the south of England! I have stuff to plant!*
So I planted yesterday’s peony**, grumbling. This involved hacking out drainage holes*** in the bottom of one of the big plastic pots I bought yesterday and cursing plastic-pot manufacturers who don’t at least provide punch-out holes† and that if I’d thought of it in time yesterday Atlas could have sliced them out with one of his magical whirling/whizzing/buzzing tools and now I’ll have to wait till next week and I might have planted a couple of roses†† but I don’t think I can face a lot more of this self-help perforation.
Meanwhile another conundrum was occupying my mental faculties. It’s like one of those horrible word problems in maths: If Suzy has six apples and Mary has forty-seven teapots, how fast was the train going when it ran over Angie’s Hyundai?††† And what was Frank doing with that lawn mower? My problem looks like this: There’s going to be snow tonight. Therefore I have to bring the jungle indoors again. Peter is playing bridge, therefore I will also be eating supper at the cottage.‡ This means I have to be able to eat supper at the cottage, which means impenetrable jungle in the kitchen is not ideal. Furthermore I am also bell ringing tonight and the temperature is already dropping like a stone so I will have to bring the jungle indoors before I go in case it’s too late by the time I get back. Hellhounds are loose in the kitchen while I’m out.‡‡ Hellhounds are (mostly) remarkably good about leaving plants alone, but they might understandably feel aggrieved about having said plants following them indoors onto their territory, especially when territory is so limited. ‡‡‡ If I can’t fill up the kitchen with jungle, I will have to fill up the sitting-room with jungle, but if I get smelly water all over my fitted§ carpet I will kill myself.
What do I do?
Simple really. I drop two roses and two fruit trees into large plastic pots that have not had the holes drilled in their bottoms yet. Not having realised that this was going to be an issue, I planted Tipsy in a square pot. So I folded a gardening sheet in quarters and tied it up around her like a diaper with string. I am taking no chances with the smelly water thing.§
Oh yes, and the peony is covered in tiny pink shoots and I suddenly thought of her having been sitting around in the heated indoors of a garden centre . . . and freaked. So I put some bubble wrap over her and tied another garden sheet over that. Nothing else is coming indoors.
* * *
* I had a ginormous package of frelling bare-root roses arrive this afternoon. Aaaaugh. I’d forgotten that I’d fallen prey to Peter Beales’ special offer. I’m pawning three of them off on Peter but that still leaves me with seven. The previous rose hedge was only four! And I’ve only just got them planted! In time for FROST AND SNOW so they can COME INDOORS and LEAK SMELLY WATER ALL OVER MY HOUSE! The new rose hedge, in its too-familiar but larger brown paper parcel, has gone firmly out into the greenhouse–the greenhouse that on evidence appears to be colder than the surrounding garden–insulated it with bags of compost, and it will be fine. It should be too because these are all the Tough Old Things end of roses. Well, mostly. And I will have to open the bag and let them have some sunlight within a day or two . . . which is where all the trouble began last time . . . but it’s March! –Yes, it is, and even in the south of England you can go on having frosts up through May. Which is why both wisteria and magnolias are a crap shoot around here. Roses generally aren’t, but . . .
** Sarah Bernhardt http://www.crocus.co.uk/plants/_/perennials/other-perennials/prices-that-have-been-pruned/classid.3313/ One of the commonest–every garden centre will have her–but to my eye they don’t get any prettier. My last one didn’t like where I put her and died to underline her displeasure.
*** With an exacto knife. Yes, I still have all my fingers. Impressed?
† Which with a screwdriver and a mallet will eventually, in fact, punch out. Probably.
†† Which would not need to come indoors and leak smelly water all over my house because they’re all Tough Old Things and are being kept IN THE GREENHOUSE till they’re planted out.
††† It’s okay, she and the twins and the six Komodo Dragons and the week’s groceries got out in time.
‡ I could perfectly well eat supper at the mews. But I won’t. It’s cheating somehow. I may sneak in for a little piano-playing but that’s all.
‡‡ And yes, I could shut them in the crate, but that would really be cheating.
‡‡‡ Stop that extravagent breathing! There isn’t room!
§ wall to wall
§§I still don’t know what Frank was doing with the lawn mower though.
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