Dad had a huge garden: he’d almost one hundred rose bushes at the front and a large vegetable garden at the rear including several dozen fruit bushes and some trees. I helped in the garden occasionally, but had no real interest as a child. I probably absorbed quite a bit of horticultural knowledge, because when I moved to Brindle, and had a sizeable garden of my own, I was very keen to start growing immediately. We moved house on the Tuesday prior to Easter and by Good Friday, I had dug over the first of what has now become four vegetable plots and planted some potatoes.
Our present garden is very much segregated into ‘his ’n’ hers’ with forays very rarely made into the other’s patch. I look after the lawns, the vegetables and any new hard landscaping that needs creating or repairing, while Gee cares for the shrubs and flowers, both in the garden and cut flowers for the house. I am also in demand in the autumn and winter when any shrubs or trees need pruning or if any major shredding is to be done. I’ll never forget the year that Gee asked me to shred a huge pile of laurel that she’d clipped from next door’s overgrown hedge. I commented on the lovely almond aroma as I was shredding, and just out of curiosity, I googled what the smell was. It turns out that shredded laurel leaves release cyanide and benzaldehyde which give off a characteristic almond smell. She knew, didn’t she?
We now have a new aluminium greenhouse (which I erected), but this also is very much Geraldine’s domain. If it’s a bit chilly outside, she’ll be found in it sheltering from the cold, often accompanied by a cat or two. We both love being in the garden at the weekend and will spend all day pottering if the weather is kind.
In 2010, we were lucky enough to purchase our own little piece of rural England when negotiations were finally concluded for us (along with eight other neighbours) to buy a part of the field behind our houses. The field was a sand quarry in the 19th and 20th centuries, before becoming a landfill site in the 1970s. From mid 1985, the land was reclaimed and returned to normal agricultural use and was rented out for the grazing of horses and other livestock. Early in the 21st century, we heard rumours, which may have been unfounded, that the council were looking to buy the field and turn it into a nature reserve. I didn’t like the idea that people could be walking along our boundary fence, spotting squirrels or badgers or whatever, so my neighbour and I started negotiations to buy a 100m strip to protect our outlook. The talks took a while and included setbacks, but my neighbour persevered, and I now own about an acre of land which provides a buffer in case of any unwanted developments on the field.
In winter 2013, I planted over 70 native trees in one section of the field. It was prompted in part from listening to an edition of Gardeners’ Question Time when a listener asked the panel what they would recommend him to plant in readiness for his retirement in ten years time. The late John Cushnie (one of my favourite presenters on the programme) simply said, “Plant two tree saplings about twelve feet apart and nurture them and feed them. In ten years time, when you retire, sling a hammock between them, jump in and enjoy looking at the garden”. I thought this was a terrific idea, so once the opportunity arose, this is what I did. I planted far more than just two trees, though, and most of them are growing splendidly. I know this because I am monitoring and documenting their yearly growth. (I told you I love collecting data!)
The rest of the extended garden is left to grow naturally. I have mown paths through it to allow easy access, and Gee and I are often out spotting wildflowers which have self-seeded (or been planted). We initially had some grand ideas to own some livestock, but gradually, realism set in and thoughts of having hens, goats, alpacas, a donkey or even an ostrich gradually faded. We do have plenty of pheasants who visit, and I would still love to provide a home to a peacock, but this hasn’t happened yet.
Geraldine had wanted a pond for a long time, but for years, I resisted, mainly because I didn’t fancy carrying out the maintenance they appeared to need. In 2013, I succumbed and spent weeks sitting in the back garden thinking where a pond may best fit, and what shape it should be. You know the phase “Sometimes I just sits and thinks, and other times I just sits”? Well, that was me for weeks throughout spring and early summer. Ponds need very careful thought but eventually, I cut the first sod in August, with a plan to fill it with water by March, when the plants would go in. Early 2014 was the wettest for years, and rather than waiting around for weeks for it to fill, I found that the 25,000-litre pond was full by mid January, having only fitted the liner in late December. I can categorically say that digging the pond was certainly worth it, and sitting out on a summer’s evening watching dragonflies and newts is idyllic. I should have listened to Mrs Kellett and done it years ago. As with everything, though, were I to do it again, I’d do it differently, but one pond is ample.
