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Sally Nex

Tag Archives: hedges

This month in the garden…

02 Friday Sep 2016

Posted by sallynex in kitchen garden, this month in the garden

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

apples, caterpillars, cherries, fan training, hedges, onions, raspberries, tomatoes, Weeding

Onions about to come out of the ground and be turned into fetching kitchen ornaments

Onions about to come out of the ground and be turned into fetching kitchen ornaments

Here’s a thing. I like September. August is either sweaty or disappointingly rainy (the former, this year); and there’s not much going on in the garden. September, on the other hand, is usually balmy and gentle, with just enough rain; the veg garden is pumping out produce and there’s a new energy about my gardening what with the start of the autumn – and so the end of one gardening season and the beginning of another. So here’s where you’ll find me this month:

Picking beans: and how. I think I may have slightly overdone it this year. Six wigwams, three French (Blue Lake, Cobra and a heritage variety with pink seeds) and three runner (Moonlight, Lingua di Fuoco and a rather badly misjudged variety of bog-standard stringy). I am picking Every. Single. Day.

IMG_4110

More beans…

Removing caterpillars: there is – again – a plague. Great rows of them on the nasturtiums I so thoughtfully supplied as decoy plants: well all I can say is that they eat the nasturtiums, then move on cheerfully to my kale, cabbage and Brussels sprouts. So that’s one companion planting idea that doesn’t work, then.

Planting onions: specifically, autumn-sown, Japanese or overwintering onions (you’ll find them under all three names). There used to be a very limited selection of these but I’m gratified to see that’s now changing. I look forward to sampling a few new varieties this year.

Drying onions: and as the next crop goes in, the previous crop comes out. My maincrops have done pretty well this year and have died back nicely – time to hoick them out of the ground and plait them prettily to hang in the kitchen.

IMG_4111

Now these I will never tire of. Pick and pop in the freezer straight away and they come out as good as the day you picked them.

Picking raspberries: see beans. I am not meant to be able to grow raspberries in my chalky soil, but my rampant ‘Autumn Bliss’ have clearly failed to read the rule book. They look a little yellow around the gills in places, but it hasn’t affected the harvest one jot.

Pinching out tomato sideshoots: I think they get a bit annoyed at the constant pinching out earlier in the year and start redoubling their efforts, sending up stems straight from the base of the plant. It feels mean – but I want toms, not green growth.

Weeding: it ain’t over till the fat lady sings, you know. And she seems to have lost her voice just at the moment. I am fighting a losing battle that only cold weather will end.

Processing apples: I can’t help feeling slightly resentful at this time of year that I spend more time in the kitchen than in the garden. But so be it: the apple crop is particularly good this season so I’m making stewed apples, juice and crumbles.

Summer pruning cherries: It’s a bit past summer but actually this is the very best time to summer-prune fans and espaliers as they don’t have as much time to grow sappy new frost-prone growth. Just don’t leave it too close to October. My fans have got away a bit, but I’m hoping to wrestle them back into order.

Hedges: We have half a mile of wild Somerset hedgerow around our garden, loaded with brambles, hawthorn, blackthorn and just about anything else with a prickle. ‘Nuff said. I try to do it just once a year: more often and I think I’d just move.

 

November garden: Cut flower terraces

20 Wednesday Nov 2013

Posted by sallynex in design, garden design, my garden

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

garden makeover, hard landscaping, hedges, Rosa mundi, roses

terrace_middle

There will come a point when I can’t show you this bit any more: it’s been cut flower heaven this year after a sowing frenzy in spring, but now I’m clearing the flowers to make way for a little demonstration garden for a magazine series. I could tell you what it is, but then I’d have to shoot you. Sorry.

The terraces are a practical solution to a recurring problem here: how to get the garden down the hill. We live 200m above sea level (that’s a shade over 600 ft – or the height of a respectable cliff) in the Blackdown Hills, a gentle landscape of undulating fields, lanes and hedgerows and long views across hills blueing into the distance.

terrace_pots

Clearing away the flowers is a long, slow process, as many are perennials and need painstaking potting up to keep over winter till they can be replanted again. Here are my Achillea ‘Summer Berries’; I’m also rescuing some sweet rocket, lupins, verbena and coreopsis.

Everywhere is either up, or down. There are two flat patches in my garden: the vegetable garden, and the bit directly around the house. Linking the two is yet another slope. Or at least, it would be if someone way back in the annals of the house’s long list of owners hadn’t built walls and terraced the whole slope into three broad plateaux.

terrace_zinnias

There are still flowers here: these gaillardias have hung on till the bitter end, though they’ve only just beaten the zinnias, coreopsis and verbena to the line.

I fret, sometimes, about what to do with my slopes. In places, they’re precipitous: the house sits in a bowl, as it used to be a quarry. Maps dating back well into the early 1800s show our quarry once stretched around the side, where there’s still a bit of rough ground in the cow field behind, and up the hill into what’s now a smooth sheep pasture with not a hint of earthworks to be seen. In our garden, though, the scars of mining gravel and limestone, as well as the chertstone rock (a kind of fractured flint) from which our house was built, mark deep into the earth.

terrace_rose

It may not look much, but this is my little triumph this month: this is a Rosa mundi, a fact I only know for a few pathetic flowers bravely peeking through a thicket of bramble six feet across and as much tall (it covered all you can see in the picture above) and so rampant it had grown thickly into the clematis hedge alongside. I spent a good couple of hours hacking out the brambles with a mattock and some riggers’ gloves until finally – at last – my poor smothered rose bush is breathing once more.

The hedgerows in the back garden grow on top of these near-vertical slopes, and I have been known to trim them while hanging, monkey-like, by one hand from the lower branches and wielding a petrol hedgetrimmer with the other. Don’t try this at home, folks.

I could take my cue from the terraces and turn them into a series of narrow (but flat) ribbons, stepping down the sides of my garden like paddyfields. But I baulk at the major work involved: I could bank up sleepers, perhaps, but I don’t much like the idea of forbidding walls of wood.

Stone walls would be more in keeping – and god knows there’s plenty of stone to build them with – but even so, it’s a huge job and I’m not convinced the end result wouldn’t look a bit… well… over-engineered.

Just now I’m thinking the softly softly, sympathetic approach is needed, and all that’s required is to cut paths winding through and up the cliffs, and maybe landsculpt more manageable, plantable slopes in between. We’ll see.

terrace_top

The view down the terraces: the top terrace I’ve just cleared of a year of Pictorial Meadows loveliness, full of poppies and mignonette and cornflowers. Wonderful. I’ve just planted a seed-sown hedge here too, though it’s so tiny you can barely see it yet: it’s hyssop, and you can’t buy it bare-root in this kind of quantity but you can raise it from seed.

Here’s how the same space looked when we moved here in 2010…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

End of month view: June

01 Friday Jul 2011

Posted by sallynex in greenhouse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

blight, end of month view, hedges, mixed hedges, peas, sweet potatoes, trials, vegetables

It’s been a month of making progress, if slow: the mad rush of spring has calmed and I’m just planting out the last of my young plants (looking a bit the worse for wear, I have to say: this drought-ridden spring hasn’t been kind to plants in pots).

But for now I can enjoy the garden burgeoning into colour, everything growing at the rate of knots, and my earlier work coming – sometimes – good.

It won’t surprise anyone who knows me that the veg garden is seeing most of the action: so that’s where I’m concentrating for my end-of-month stocktake this time.

There have been a few surprises as I’m trialling one or two veg varieties this year: first up is an amazing pea, due to make its debut in the Thompson & Morgan catalogue next year I believe. If you’re not yet convinced that veg can be as beautiful as ornamentals, take a look at this:

The all-important taste test, of course, has yet to come: at the moment the pods are rather a muddy purple tinged green, not unattractive but not exactly wow-value either. We’ll see: just love those flowers though.

Another splash of colour is the double row of marigolds I sowed on both sides of my onion bed:

I’m so doing this again: it makes me smile every time I see it. It’s supposed to deter onion fly too: they get confused by the strong scent of the calendula. Well – there aren’t any onion flies as far as I can see: so it seems to be working so far.

The spuds haven’t been so lucky.

I’ve never had early blight on the new potatoes before. It’s making my heart sink for my so-far hale and hearty maincrops. I should know, of course, that in damp and rainy Somerset the chances of escaping fungal disease of any kind are pretty close to zero: but such an early arrival has come as something of a surprise. The spuds themselves don’t seem affected: these are ‘Foremost’, nice enough, but rather bland for my taste.

And finally: a visit to the engine room.

Packed with growbags this year: there are over 20 in there, at last count. It’s not how I usually do it – I’m a big fan of growing in soil in the greenhouse borders as a rule, as plants look after themselves so much better. But this is the greenhouse I inherited (rather than the one I brought back from the allotment: that’s still being planted up with cucumbers, melons and sweet peppers). So it’s on a hard standing, and I didn’t have much choice.

Fortunately I was after some experiments to do for t’other blog, so I’ve got all sorts of things going on in here: product reviews, trying out different supports, you name it. Oh, and those baskets in the back are my sweet potatoes: all of them T65 this year after they won my undying support by producing my best crop last season.

Elsewhere, the whole garden is getting decidedly woolly around the edges, and I am, frankly, dreading July: it’s hedge-cutting month, and strim-the-undergrowth month, so I’m looking down the wrong end of a lot of hours strapped to either strimmer or hedge-trimmer. I have half a mile of hedge here: this is no small undertaking. Here’s what we’re looking at: the back slope gives some idea of the jungle-like undergrowth:


…and here’s a typical hedge.

Luckily they’re not all quite that tall, but since they’re all hazel-dominated mixed hedges they’re pretty much this overgrown. Wish me luck.

Thanks as always to Helen at The Patient Gardener for hosting the EOMV!

The strength of plants

08 Tuesday Feb 2011

Posted by sallynex in Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

amazing plants, hazel, hedges

Cutting back my hedge (still haven’t finished) I discovered one of the hazel trees had eaten a rock.


It was so firmly wedged I couldn’t shift it, even when I whacked it hard with a hammer, my standard fall-back position when all things more ladylike have been tried.

I’ve seen trees eat other trees, barbed wire, bits of string and rubber tree ties (that was a crabapple in my terrace garden last week) – but never a rock before.

Aren’t plants amazing?

Hedging my bets #2

25 Tuesday Jan 2011

Posted by sallynex in pruning

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

hedgerows, hedges, mixed hedges, rejuvenating, wildlife hedges

So having established that I have the wildlife habitat equivalent of the Mona Lisa around my garden and if I so much as touch it I shall have the wrath of a thousand hairy-bearded environmentalists raging about my head, I have had to work out how it is possible to garden alongside my hedge.

Just after a puny hedgetrimmer had been at it: not a shred of difference did it make (the tops were done with a flail: now that’s more like it, but a little impractical inside the garden as the tractor wouldn’t fit)

I have been weighing up a few options:

1. Rip the whole thing out and replace it with a wall.
Social suicide. I could never lift my head in polite society, and certainly not in the village, ever again. People have been sent to the Tower for less.

2. Rip the whole thing out and replace it with another hedge.
There is a precedent for this in the village: someone down the road from us has clearly ripped out their hedgerow and replaced it with a sort of cotoneaster sort of thing. It looks horrible: the essence of suburbia dropped like an alien into a rural idyll.

I have a lovely memory of the beautiful beech hedge I planted around my old house: but again, such clipped refinement would sit oddly among the wildness, and besides, it took years to establish, during which time the cows who live next door would have a high old time skipping around among my cabbages.

The inside of my hedge. Now in the process of returning to its former occupation as the outside of my hedge.

3. Make it a bit smaller.
Ah: now you’re talking more sense. The main point of conflict between me and my hedge is that it’s taking up too much of the garden. This is especially the case in my very thin vegetable garden: when you’ve only got about 20ft to play with anyway, an 8ft hedge either side reduces the available growing space to a wide path.

When you look more closely at the actual structure of the hedge, it’s quite obvious that it’s escaped from its original boundaries. The hump of chalk bank which my hedges stand on is hidden behind a forest of suckers: mainly hazel, but an awful lot of bramble and some blackthorn, too. There’s a good few years’ growth there in fact, and I got to thinking if this were a shrub, I’d be pitying it for being so neglected and working out how to renovate it back to its original shape.

In fact if you start thinking like that, you remember (something I bang on about quite a lot) that hedges are still plants. They need feeding, watering and weeding just like your other garden plants: and in this case, they also require rejuvenating.

So that’s what I’ve been doing: it is a herculean task, involving a lot of heavy action with the loppers and pruning saw, and a pile of green waste which has just passed my head height across about two car’s lengths of garden.

But I am uncovering a better hedge: a well-behaved hedge, one which is a bit gappy at the moment (despite still being about 4ft across) but looks as if it will this season have enough light and room to regenerate with new wood and fresh growth.

Looking back down the garden at the bit I just did: the darker area marks the original footprint of the hedge. As you can see, it is transforming the space: and, though it looks a bit rough at the moment, I hope it will transform the health of the hedge as well.

I get four feet of extra space each side of the garden, and my grassy path of a veg plot is transformed into something that looks like you might be able to grow something in it.

I don’t think my Grade I listed hedges will ever be low-maintenance; but all the best things take care and love and attention to keep them at their best. And besides, I like to garden my hedges. The nice thing is that now I can garden in between them, too.

Hedging my bets #1

20 Thursday Jan 2011

Posted by sallynex in wildlife gardening

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

hedgerows, hedges, mixed hedges, surveys, wildlife hedges

I am feeling the heavy weight of responsibility on my shoulders.

You see, I have a proper hedgerow to look after. Actually, that’s about the understatement of the year: I have about half a mile of hedgerow, as it forms the entire border of my very long and very thin garden.

Hedgerow is a proper recognised wildlife habitat: it’s a priority habitat, in fact, protected under the Biodiversity Action Plan which describes them as ‘particularly important for biodiversity conservation’. About 130 vulnerable species (so rabbits don’t count) depend on them for their survival, including moths, birds, lichens and fungi.

Around here, there are miles and miles and miles of hedgerows. They are a wonderful, atmospheric feature of the landscape, turning lanes into green tunnels and patchworking the fields. They are, let’s remember, essentially man-made: the farmers around here have formed them over centuries, with traditional management techniques which are still, essentially, unchanged (although these days they use tractors and flails, not billhooks). If farmers didn’t manage hedgerows, they would disappear.

The OPAL project (it stands for Open Air Laboratories) is currently running a biodiversity survey which uses hedges to measure health of your local ecosystem. So I thought I’d put my own hedge to the test: you take a three-metre stretch of hedge and analyse the state of the hedge, its plant species, evidence of mammals living there, and any other creatures you find (mostly invertebrates like woodlice and snails).

I must admit mine was quite a cursory inspection: you’re supposed to do these things in groups, and record it on a proper form, which I’d forgotten to print out. But in my randomly-chosen three-metre stretch here’s what I found:


Plantlife:
Hart’s-tongue fern (Asplenium scolopendrium)
Herb robert (Geranium robertianum)
Queen Anne’s Lace (Daucus carota)
Brambles (Rubus fruticosus)


Ivy (Hedera helix)
Creeping buttercup (Ranunculus repens)
Nettles (Urtica dioica)

and I also happen to know (because they’re now starting to come up) there are also;
Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis)
Cuckoo pint (Arum maculatum)

Other things:
Lichens, most of which I can’t identify
Mosses, ditto
Little yellow fungi, ditto
Bracket fungi on the rotten bits

Woody plants:
Elder (of which the above is the oldest example I’ve yet found in the hedge)(Sambucus nigra)
Hazel (lots) (Corylus avellana)
Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa)
Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna)
Alder (Alnus glutinosa)

It’s also a sign of the health of my hedgerows that there is a good mix of dead wood and live: the live provides the fruits, berries etc while the dead wood is colonised by tunnelling insects and the like.

However the hazel is undeniably taking over: there is less blackthorn than I would like (though my poor prickled fingers don’t agree) and I could do with some more elder too.

Creatures:
I didn’t find much to look at since it was winter and very cold when I looked at my hedgerow, and most sensible things were tucked up warm and weren’t remotely interested in being surveyed.

However I did find this rather fine evidence of rabbits (as if I needed any proof: they scatter to right and left as you walk down the garden here). I have also, since I’ve been here, seen voles, mice, fox footprints and hundreds and hundreds of birds: wrens, sparrows, bluetits, wagtails, blackbirds, thrushes, robins, and that’s not counting the ones I couldn’t identify. And buzzards, and crows, and seagulls. though I don’t think they rely too heavily on the hedgerows for day-to-day sustenance.

You see? What a responsibility. But though I like wildlife as much as the next person, and have a sense of tradition and history, and a great love of the countryside: I must also garden. And my hedges are undeniably taking over my garden, to the point where there is little garden left. They are 8ft wide in places, for goodness’ sake.

My next step? What would you do?

Garden makeover #2: Boxing clever

30 Friday Jan 2009

Posted by sallynex in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

box hedges, hedges, planting

I’ve been shopping 😀

Never one to sit around for long when there’s a garden makeover to be done, I was back at it this week following last week’s (if I do say it myself) pretty good start to doing up my front garden.

It’s getting towards the end of bare-root season, and since the design relies on about 21m of box hedging I thought I’d better get my skates on if I wanted to pay anything like a reasonable price.

So three big hefty bundles of box saplings arrived on my doorstep during the week, all around 10-15cm high which is a good size for getting a hedge started with. In fact as you can see from the picture, once it’s bulked out a bit it won’t take much clipping to make that small formal hedge a reality.

I put them in at around 15cm apart (that’s 6″ in my head – yes I do still have to convert – though handily both measurements come out at about a trowel’s length). That was a bit closer than perhaps I should have done – estimates for the best spacing ranged from 7 per metre (that’s the 6″ spacing) to around 4 per metre (that’s more like 10″). I thought 4 per metre sounded very sparse, so went for the tighter spacing – I can always thin them out a bit later if it looks like there are going to be problems.

I had a whole lot of soil improvement to do first – as you might expect, the soil on the ex-gravel drive bit was about as poor as it gets. Not only compacted, but grey with lack of nutrients. So anyway – I dug a good spit’s depth of trench and half-filled it with soil improver before the little box plants got anywhere near it. They should be fine in that – and I’ll mulch them next month too, just to keep the good work going. Here’s what it all looked like once I’d finished:

Now it’s just a matter of filling that big gap with lots of lovely plants. Could that mean…. shopping again? Woo hoo, I love the spring!

Last chance to see…

10 Monday Nov 2008

Posted by sallynex in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Acers, beech, hedges, Hydrangea quercifolia, Prunus subhirtella 'Autumnalis', trees

I was wandering through the woods walking the dog, grinning foolishly to myself while kicking the mounting piles of autumn leaves with every step (do you ever grow out of that, I wonder?). Then I happened to look up at the sky and saw that though it’s not even mid-November yet, the branches are already bare against the blue.

It’s been a fabulous autumn – something to do with the early frost and wet weather I believe – but all too short-lived. So I ran out with my camera as soon as I got back to take a few pics before it all disappears.

The view up through the mixed native trees that line the border of my garden: all that greenery just becomes goldery at this time of year.

The Prunus x subhirtella ‘Autumnalis’ outside my bedroom window is one I’ve raved about before – it’s been spectacular this year, real fireworks every morning when I draw the curtains.

I planted this Hydrangea quercifolia a couple of years ago and it’s becoming well-established now. I bought it for the shape of its leaves, but look at that brooding purple colour, too.

The beech hedge is joining in with waves of deep purple spreading through the green.

A couple of years ago an enterprising neighbour harangued the local council, who had just killed all the trees on our green by strimming them too enthusiastically, for some replacements. Being a professional tree man, the replacements he requested resembled a wish-list for an arboretum. We now have the best selection of trees for miles. This one is a fabulously vivid maple, one of several now giving us a fantastic display outside our front doors.

Cloud-pruning hedges

17 Monday Sep 2007

Posted by sallynex in pruning

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

hedges

One of my clients has an accidentally cloud-pruned hedge. This arcane art from Japan is all the rage at the moment, but when I informed her she was cutting edge (literally and metaphorically), she’d never heard of it. The hedge, she told me, had just grown like that: she and her husband had been pruning it with shears since they moved in about 50 years ago and they just followed the contours of the hedge without bothering too much about straight lines and sharp edges.

It’s a lovely thing: all curves and sensual, billowing waves. It takes me eight hours to prune it with hand shears each year, which is a real labour of love, but it’s worth it. You can see bits of it swelling and retreating as the years go by: holes appear and disappear, and bulges are smoothed out and then turn up somewhere else. I’ve never been so aware that a hedge is made up of living, breathing plants: beats a boring old box square any day.

Hedging your bets

27 Wednesday Jun 2007

Posted by sallynex in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

beech, hedges, privet

The year rolls on… now it’s time to dust off the hedgetrimmers and get to work. A week or so ago it was a client’s privet hedge, now it’s the beech hedge round our front garden and the wildlife hedge at the back.

I’m more than a bit proud of our beech hedge. We planted it ourselves, about 4 years ago after we’d grubbed up a horrid leylandii hedge. Being me, I didn’t do things by halves: I dug a big trench, poured barrowloads of manure in to improve the soil, then planted my staggered rows of beech saplings 18″ apart and back-filled. Then I watered them in very, very well and mulched deeply with well-rotted stable manure.

So far, so what most people do. But ever since, I’ve taken care of the hedge in just the same way as my perennials: I think perhaps this is where people go wrong, in that they forget that hedges are groups of plants, not just inanimate walls, and have the same needs. So I watered the hedge in the droughts, mulched it every spring, and kept it free of weeds.

Result: a four-year-old hedge which looks like it’s been there 10 years. Beech hedges are notoriously slow to establish, and the books say you shouldn’t expect a dense hedge until at least 5 years. Ours took three: and I’m convinced it’s because I took good care of the plants, and am continuing to do so. We’re reaping the rewards now: all that hard work has really paid off, and my little beech trees are thanking me in the only way they know how!

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