Famous (Not Blue) Raincoat
I am in permanently divided mind about the weather. Walking is much pleasanter when the footpaths aren’t hip deep–and hellhounds try to levitate over bad footing, with mixed results. But watering your garden is a drag. I hate watering. Most boring job on earth.* And annoying. And my garden is a little . . . over-potted. Pots always need watering.
We’ve had this run of glorious bright sunny weather . . . but the ground underfoot is getting on for rock-like and I’m tired of watering. And we finally have some rain supposedly on the way. . . .
Meanwhile Souvenir de la Malmaison is popping with big fat buds. Souvenir de la Malmaison, one of those roses that pretty well invariably gets on ‘the most beautiful of all roses’ lists. Souvenir de la Malmaison, who hates rain. H a t e s rain. Turns to Miss Haversham’s wedding dress in the rain. Those of you who were around Days in the Life this time last year may remember my being out there swathing her in bubble wrap just before the rains came . . . well, almost before the rains came. I lost the ones that were almost-too-nearly-already out. But there was a terrific slightly later flush of flowers–the sort of display where you have to restrain yourself from dragging strangers off the street and saying, Look! Look! Look at that rose!** And I remember saying something last year about how she’s a big bush*** when she gets going and I’m not going to be able to do this swathing-in-bubble-wrap thing forever, or, likely, even next year. Which is to say this year.
It started raining this morning while I was still in the early staggering-around, where-am-I, how-do-I-make-these-appendages-work? phase of getting out of bed. And I thought, no, no, I can’t lose her without a struggle, so I was out there with bubble-wrap and clothes pegs† while the rain fell, wondering if it was already too late. You can hardly breathe on Souvenir without your steamy breath . . . giving her the vapours. Ha. I may have lost the first few half-cracked ones again this year. But . . .
It stopped raining as soon as the last peg was in place†† and I went indoors to get the camera.††† Well, okay, I’ll get the hellhounds pelted early, this is going to be very sticky weather very soon, whether it rains or not. Hellhounds, who would like you to believe that they are beasts of a very fine sensibility, do not like rain either. So I did and it was, but it went on not raining. It is still not raining, barring while I was watering the garden this afternoon, when it came on to leak enough to be moderately unpleasant to be out in, but I knew it would stop the moment I stopped watering, and it did.
Arrrrgh.
* * *
* Note that I like weeding. My bona fides as a gardener are secure.
** Although they’d better not be strolling up my cul de sac staring around with a superior smile on their faces. I hate tourists. Go back down to the main road where you belong and stimulate the economy by buying something! –I nearly bit the head off some poor old bloke who was tottering past on his cane while I was out front weeding pots, who ventured one of those standard gardening remarks at me to the effect of ‘it never ends’ or similar. I looked at his shining friendly face and couldn’t do it. And we ended up having a nice long chat about Gardens We Have Known. Sometimes it’s good to be a wuss.
*** And I am entirely mad for trying to wedge her into a garden this size.
† And I can’t FIND my garden-protection clothes pegs–which are in a nice little bowl or bag or flower pot somewhere, I just don’t know WHERE–so I’ve had to use a fresh lot of clothes pegs and am now running out of clothes pegs. I am attempting to look on the bright side: at least I could find the bubble-wrap.
†† Although gods help me–and Souvenir–and the neighbours–if we get any wind to speak of; there will be bubble-wrap everywhere. Except on Souvenir, keeping the rain off.
††† And this is the little patio clematis you can see dangling in the raincoat photo. For those of us who find plants cute, this is definitely cute. And it’s recommended as being good for trailing.^ You will notice my approach to hanging baskets: I hate hanging baskets like I hate watering, precisely because they are impossible to. Water. So this is my new approach: you put the pot in the hanging basket. Add a little bedraggled hemp netting for verisimilitude or a mulch equivalent. I’m also experimenting with those pointy-ended globe reservoirs you sink into the pot and then fill up the reservoir: I haven’t found either the water gel beads or the water matting or any of the stuff you bury in the basket worth anything at all.
^ I’m rather sweating trailing this year: both my trailing nemesias and my trailing verbenas show no sign of doing anything of the kind. My trailing petunias are my only remaining hope but they haven’t got going yet.
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