the mission bells are ringing!
There are a gazillion things to do in the garden right now and that is too many (a million million I think, but I failed Maths).
I feel under pressure to do all the necessary things before spring becomes summer; then anything that isn't already in the ground won't grow and I will have missed the bus of the season.
I am intensely aware of time and have a longer list of 'to-dos' than usual and come what may I just have to keep up 'cos it's spring and all the flower bells are ringing! Throw off your duvet and get your hands in the earth, everything is turning and changing, time to shake off the winter and feel new - green, white or yellow, so long as it's fresh and bright and spring-like! Anything but blue, we've had enough of that.
I am supposed to be roused by the rallying call to go outside and do.
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| at the very least... |
The sap is rising, weeds are growing, blossom is blooming, slugs are foraging! But I am rubbish when a million million things are shouting at me, easily overwhelmed and less able to mentally organise tasks.
I realised the other day how much growing is going on all around me. The windowsills are full of seeds and seedlings at various stages of life, my mini greenhouse is the same, crammed with pots of dahlias and tender young plants. I have my own private nursery going on here...how did that happen? The yard is strewn with cuttings, divided perennials, summer bulbs, garlic, herbs, roses and soft fruit. Enough to confuse and annoy the cat.
Some of it waiting for beds to be built or dug over at the allotment but most waiting for the last frosts to bugger off over the horizon.
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| no room in the shed even! |
I am so out of step with the rhythm of things I keep tripping up, knowing what I should do but struggling to do it. Still running to catch up despite the fact that the cold spell at the start of the year delayed spring for a few weeks. This should have meant time to breathe, not panic.
Gardening is many things. Means different things to different people. For me, regular and direct engagement with the natural world is a private act of hope - possibly faith even.
As someone famous once said
"To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow."
If gardening is the one thing I can do I'm not doing it very well at the moment. I am lost in too many options, too many plants, possibilities, and an infinite number of angles to view it all from.
The garden in my head just keeps expanding. There are too many leaky holes in my brain and not enough weight to my thoughts to make them viable.
When everything shouts at me for immediate attention I freeze like a rabbit in headlights.
I will go back to 'The Art of Mindful Gardening', maybe Ark Redwood can shed some light, hold my hand and steer me through?
Current interesting books...
It might not help that I lose myself in books about plants so much, no matter, these are all good. In my humble opinion.
'My Cool Allotment' by Lia Leendertz, an inspirational guide to stylish allotments and community gardens
'The Wildlife Gardener' by Kate Bradbury (ex Gardeners' World writer)
'The Rurbanite' by Alex Mitchell
the 'Ten-Minute Gardener's' series by Val Bourne, one on fruit, veg and flowers - all excellent
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| 'Cynthia' a species tulip in my garden |
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| the lovely Fuji cherry in blossom |
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| A Harvington Hellebore |
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Over here from over there...
Here's how it is. I want to go out but my stomach wants to turn inside out at the thought. Don't tell me the time and don't tell me what to do, I hate that! Oh God, I have to put my boots on now or we'll be late and I am shaking. I am telling myself over and over that this night will not happen again. I have got to do it.
I pretend to feel ok in the car, despite the fact that my safe place is getting further and further away. There will be people, lots of them (read 'too many') and it will be hard. Outside is toxic, it makes me feel sick.
But she has come all this way to take her sister to Howarth; to walk the moors, see where the Brontes' lived and breathed and her sister is so excited it makes her happy and just glad to be here.
'Here' is a small northern town a long, long way from New York.
When she comes on stage there's a massive wave of noise and applause that goes on and on and we are all behind it. There's some impressive whistling, the kind I can't do (but know a girl who can).
When she talks and sings I can't believe I'm really hearing that voice, that she's here and I am looking right at her! But it is real and she is the one reason I am here.
She is here for one night only, all the way from the USA, large as life and for real - Patti Smith! Yes, really.
The air is full of the presence of all those other people she seems to bring with her - Fred 'Sonic' Smith, Robert Mapplethorpe, Sam Shephard, Warhol, Bob Dylan, Jim Morrisson, William Burroughs and the Chelsea Hotel...
She sounded so good - full of humour, intelligence and power.
When introducing a song inspired by William Blake she talked about him being a visionary, activist, poet, great printer, artist, writer and philosopher and ended by saying that when he died, he had a very humble funeral.
Ah Patti, how we loved you.
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| Patti Smith with Lou Reed |
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| Patti & Robert Mapplethorpe |
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| Patti in Paris, 1969 |
"And if there's one thing I could do for you, you'd be a wing in heaven blue"
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