October 2021

Opening your garden to the public is a simple decision.  It’s the aftermath of that simple decision where things go a bit awry.  Elements of the garden that you were perfectly happy with 2 weeks ago suddenly become complete eyesores and need to be replaced, immediately.

We had a number of dramas in the lead up, probably the most traumatic was the death of the mushroom shaped Malus, a major focal point of the Stone Wall Garden.  No reason.  Just died.  Numerous sessions of standing around it, snapping off twigs and branches brought us no closer to a diagnosis, it was just dead. Once cleared, it was obvious we would need to fill the large gap it left but with what? 

Lucky for us with all the rain that has been falling during October, we were doing a bit of lunchtime viewing of Great British Gardens with Carol Klein.  Have you seen it? It can be a bit hit and miss but worth a watch.  Arundel Castle was the focus of this days episode and after one look at their glorious Stumpery, Jenny was in for a penny and a pound.  And, as with all of Jenny’s bright ideas, I have the role of a) tempering it to a doable level; and b) trying to make it happen. 

The first thing you need building a Stumpery is, of course, stumps.  Lucky for us we have a strip of bushland out the back to peruse for likely candidates.  The key to a good stumpery is the root system of the tree, you are basically putting the stump in upside down so you can see all the nook and crannys, and pop plants in them.  We quickly developed a system for finding stumps.  Mum would ask “What about this one?”, I would walk over and kick it to see if it was palatable to being removed.  If it fell over, we would use it, if not, well, it stayed where it was.  A tad brutal perhaps but it worked. 

To our surprise we found a number of good candidates and putting them together was quick and easy.  Traditionally Stumperies are homes to ferns and other such plants, but Jenny was adamant that a Clematis ‘Tiaga’, a gorgeous double purple/blue and cream, would be best and she’s right (again), it does look lovely.

So, ‘gap in garden’ crisis averted.

Crisis No. 2. A shining light in the lead up to opening was our glorious Echium pininanas, who were growing at a remarkable rate and showing an interesting habit of flowers coming early on the stem.  A shining light, that is, until Mum put the kiss of death on them by innocently wondering if they will stay upright with all this rain and wind.  I wanted to stake them then and there but the immortal words “I’m sure they’ll be fine” were uttered and we went onto the next pressing thing.  A leisurely breakfast three days later was interrupted by a phone call declaring the Echiums had fallen over, were beyond rescuing and would a Cornus alba siberica go there?  Quick talking saved the Echiums being pulled out at least until I had time to arrive at the scene to investigate the damage. I was scared I would be too late as I was with our Christmas tree which had been thrown out the french doors onto the patio decorations and all because she woke up and just “hated it”.

My mother has a way of describing things that either a) underplays the importance or b) overplays the situation.  I felt this was an overplay.  The Echiums DID have a decidedly nasty lean to them to be sure but the roots seem to be holding firm.  With one week to the Open Garden, surely we could straighten them up, stake them and hope for the best?  Of course we could!  And I’m pleased to say that due to our actions they not only lasted until the Open Garden but still stand now (well into November) looking magnificent.

You are probably wondering what else could go wrong?  We were reaching the stage of being beyond it all anyway.  I have long suffered from perfectionism, though I am far from it and fight hard against the urge to make everyone’s lives hell around me pursuing it, so I made the call of no more.  No more stressing, no more weeding, no more worrying about it all. Well… Until Mum cleaned the paths with the K’archer, which is a good thing except it had been a while since they were done.  Dirt went everywhere, over the plants, over Mum, over everything.  We cleaned what we could but in the end rational thought reigned supreme (which is surprising for us), as you remember that it is a garden, and no garden is perfect.  In fact, I prefer gardens that are honestly imperfect. And what’s a few weeds and dirt between gardeners?