The highs and lows of nature

The highs and lows of nature

Strangely, I am not feeling all that grumpy today as last night Mrs GG was able to cook five vegetables to accompany our dinner, all of which came from the garden.  We had some delicious new potatoes, Golden Acre cabbage, broad beans, spinach beet and chard – all of which were delicious.

A sad loss

On the grumpy side of the garden we have had a sad loss. We share the garden with a number of wild pheasant who seem to spend their days with us and fly off towards a little used railway line where they stay overnight in the bushes and hedges along the bank.

Hen Pheasant

There is a small piece of pine woodland in our garden – not more than 40 trees but now very dense. To our delight we saw a hen come out on Thursday with a very young chick – no more than a couple of days old – which she proudly showed off to the other visiting pheasant.

An hour or so later we heard a lot of commotion with the cock pheasant making a lot of noise at a cat from a nearby house.

That darn cat!

We saw hen and chick on Saturday morning – and the wretched cat – but have not seen the chick since. The poor old hen did seem rather despondent but by Monday was back to her normal self. We have not seen the cat since. I know its nature, but it is nevertheless sad.

Water pain in the neck

On an equally grumpy note the weather forecasters continue to talk about heavy rain in our neck of the Midlands but, somehow, it manages to skirt around us.

So I’m continuing to have to water – a two-hour job – whilst villages no more than five miles away are under a deluge of rain.

We cannot even compensate ourselves by saying we are at least enjoying the sun – its grey and mirky and quite nippy at nights. Hey ho. Happy gardening, folks.


Hot under the collar

Hot under the collar                                                           

I’m thoroughly fed up with this unremitting hot weather. Mrs Grumpy Gardener loves the sun and keeps telling me to come and sit down. No time. As soon as the sun is off different areas of the garden, I’m out with the hose and watering can.

The vegetable cage is the most difficult because the planted-out brassicas, beans, leeks, courgettes, squash and spinach beet are all desperate for a long, cool drink once the oven is turned off.  It’s a two-hour job every evening and goodness knows what the cost will be on the water meter.

The water snake

The herbaceous border is also tricky because most of the plants do like a drink – but not all of them. And then there is the damage caused by the trailing hose. My silent curses plumb new depths with the performance of the water snake. Not only does it damage plants, but it also kinks and stops the flow of water. I stomp off down the line of the hose to find the cause only to realise, once I have been drenched, that I didn’t turn it off first!

Water lot of effort

The real exceptions to my watery grumpiness are my urns, containers and hanging baskets.  I derive a great deal of enjoyment from them – apart from the Sherpa Tensing slugs that crawl up at least three feet to feast on the content of the urns. It’s the order of the boot for those little perishers.

Watering my urns, containers and hanging baskets is quite different from the rest of the garden. I use a two gallon can without a rose and each Sunday I give them a liquid feed. We have four stone urns along one South-facing low wall plus smaller stone baskets and they all need a prodigious volume of water – every evening in this hot weather.

Bird bites

Then I have to look after my little avian friends. Mrs GG puts out crumbs and finely diced pieces of fat onto the bird tables each morning and I fill the feeders with fat balls, peanuts, tiny little black seeds the name of which I have totally forgotten and sunflower hearts.

Almost all the birds love the latter and we have a wide range of tits, gold and green finches, nuthatches, sparrows and, of course, robins that love them.

Grey matter

Two chief grumps: firstly, the wretched grey squirrels (tree rats) destroy the feeders on average every four or five weeks and then, the more easily remedied bird mess.

Do any readers of this column have any remedies for solving my squirrel problem? What I’d really like is a clear Pyrex feeder that the rascals would not be able to dig their teeth into. Oh for the return of the lovely red Squirrel, Nutkins, of my childhood.

No angry birds

As for the other problem: every fortnight I take the feeders down around lunch time, when the birds don’t seem to be active, and wash them with a mild solution of weak disinfectant. I then dry them thoroughly, refill and hang them back up. At least my garden birds are not grumpy!