Echeveria La Femme
It has surprised me recently how many people have commented about the disparity between my blog name and my temperament. My response is always – “Its aspirational!”probably said with more and more exasperation.
I like to think I am a fairly patient person but I don’t suffer fools and moaners gladly and I get frustrated at bureaucracy etc so I need the garden and allotment to help counteract this and make me feel more level-headed. I can be very patient when it comes to growing plants. I am even growing s tulips from seed and I have some Bottlebrush shrubs grown from seed which I have nurtured over the last 2 years.
I have no idea what this succulent is
However, if I was to describe myself at the moment it would be a combination of panicking, exhaustion, frustration and ambition. I have been in a limbo land for the last two years due to a family bereavement, it’s as though I have been in a sort of trance and going through the motions. Finally this summer something clicked when I was visiting a garden and my enthusiasm for the garden returned along with lots of ideas and projects; I have always been a person of extreme emotion! On top of this I have a new allotment plot and am coming to the end of my first year. After a year getting to grips with having a plot I have a whole list of jobs that need doing to improve the plot including a windbreak and raised beds. None of the ideas or projects in either the garden or plot are simple and many are interlinked and its all becoming a little daunting.
Echeveria elegans
Add to this the fact that summer definitely seems to be behind us and it has turned so chilly and windy that it feels as though we might fly through autumn far too quickly and I am certainly beginning to panic about everything I want to achieve before the ground freezes. I have realised today that visiting the allotment on the way home from work is becoming less and less of an option as the evenings close in plus work is so full on that by the time I leave all I want to do is have dinner and go to bed.
I have had to give myself a good talking to today and remind myself that gardening, even the allotment, is a hobby and not a job. I mustn’t get myself in a state about what needs doing or my precarious returning enjoyment will vanish again. I have drawn up a list of the jobs that need doing over the next few weeks at the allotment just so I can clear my head and quantify the chores.
Aeonium schwarzkopf
As for the garden I was wondering if I had bitten off more than I can chew. I stood there this weekend looking at what had been the pond which is now a large hole full of mud and wondering what on earth possessed me to think that converting it into a bog garden was a good idea. I had to remind myself sternly that the pond hasn’t worked well for the last few years and how much better a bog garden will be for the Ligularias I love and not to admit defeat at the first hurdle.
So this evening I didn’t go to the allotment, instead my eldest son and I came up with an action plan for the weekend for the plot and I had a quiet wander around the garden to clear my head. I ended up in the greenhouse which is my favourite place especially as the nights draw in. Here my collection of succulents is safely ensconced to protect it from winter cold – one job off the long list but an important one. I love these succulents they are so easy to look after and so delightful to look at and they remind me of the enjoyment I should be getting from my garden if only I could be patient and not so hard on myself. Then maybe ‘The Patient Gardener’ might not be so aspirational.
Helen, you’ve summed up exactly how I feel about gardening: passionate, absorbed, over-ambitious and frequently overwhelmed! I always feel much better when I’ve had at least an hour’s pottering so am frustrated at the darkening evenings, although I’m lucky to be able to keep Fridays free for gardening. Action plans are very useful, how lovely that your son helps out! Thanks for sharing your feelings with us, you’re not alone! Caro xx
Oh thanks Caro I am relieved you like the post and it relates to you as well. I never know when I write one of my rambling posts whether its going to annoy people or not
I find that when I am going through a period of depression, I don’t realize it until I snap out of it. It is often the garden that helps me, although I think it is just being outside too. As I read your post, I was going to suggest that you commit all the things you need to do to list, make a plan, and then pursue one thing at a time. It seems like you figured that out though.
thanks Carolyn – I’m a great list writer I find they help clarify things and enable me to prioritise better
The succulents are beautiful, especially the schwarzkopf.
I enjoyed your “rambling” post.
Getting it down on paper – well out there in blog land will help I’m sure. Being hard on yourself is something no-one should do but that doesn’t stop us! Lovely healthy looking succulents, they often look so tatty but yours look perfect. Christina
I’m glad you like the succulents they have been outside all summer generally ignored which they seem to like
What you need to do is save as many jobs as possible until May. Why May? Well, when we all come to Malvern, you just invite us all to stay an extra day, and dish out the jobs!
Hi Jane – I’m not sure I’m going to the show next spring so I’m afraid there wont be any invites to mine sorry
I enjoyed the rambling too!! It’s a funny time of year isn’t it … and seems to have turned particularly suddenly this year – has quite taken me by surprise (or does this happen every year and I block it from my memory?)
It has turned suddenly and early. Our students graduate in early November and the photos always have autumn leaves as a backdrop, I think this year they will have bare trees
Sounds practical – as long as mosquitoes don’t burst out of your bog.
well the state the pond has been over the last year I think if I was going to get mosquitos I would have had them by now!!
Be kind to yourself. xx
That’s a good, contemplative post. I’m glad you find yourself coming back to life. The mysterious succulent is Aeonium tabuliforme. I saw it growing vertically on the north-facing rock faces in Madeira — where it looks surreal against the black basalt. I never managed to get a photo of it because it was never safe to stop the car.
Oh thanks for the id – will write that down in my notebook before I forget it. I can imagine it would look amazing growing vertically on a rock face. Maderia is on my very long list of places to visit.
Hi,
I really sympathise. In the weeks before we went away I almost broke my back trying to get the garden dug and everything into the ground, along with sleepless nights worrying over everything to do. On the final day I had to stop, and tell myself that everything that had survived so far was unlikely to be killed off by one more week in pots, as long as they had access to rainwater.
We returned to find everything suddenly going wild, of course, and haven’t had much time to get into the garden and get back on top in the past couple of weeks, with work and family things and then the best part of two weeks under attack from a viral fluey thing. I have found myself scanning the things to do in my head over and again in the middle of the night, which is not good in terms of restorative sleep. Snatching a quick breath of fresh air in the garden at lunchtime was suddenly not a pleasure, but an overwhelming panic at everything getting out of hand.
Hopefully I can spend most of this weekend out there turning things round, and then employ your list suggestion to commit everything that remains to paper in manageable chunks, and fingers crossed I’ll be sleeping better next week!
Thanks for sharing your frustrations.
I find I get very protective of weekends, I’m at the malvern show this Sunday and then I have no plans for the forthcoming weekends and I intend to keep it that way so I can enjoy my garden for a change
The flip side of gardening. When life gets in the way and your source of delight becomes a burden. Miserable – and something I understand all too well. I am employing powerful blinkers on my brief trips up to the plot at the moment, grab produce and run for home before I can get overwhelmed by the weeds that need clearing and the stuff that needs sowing! Sounds as if you have a good approach though, taking a step back and making a plan. I have a new mantra. One bite at a time – like eating an elephant. I’m sorry that your new-found excitement about the garden is being challenged so early on, but thank you for sharing it – and your perfect succulents – it’s real life gardening. And three cheers for greenhouses, the perfect refuge for the beleaguered gardener!
I did laugh at the idea of running to the plot, grabbing stuff and running away. I’m not quite at that stage but on verge of it!! I like the idea of a bite at a time and this will be by new mantra
I became a slave to our last garden in the end and I didn’t enjoy it as much or find it therapeutic. Gentle potters became a frantic rush round achieving little. It was overwhelming.
In this garden I think it will still be there in one form or another in spring (weedy and overgrown probably) and as long as I do the important tasks like mulch the beloved melianthus, it will be fine. A little and often works best for me at the moment.
You are right and I am trying to avoid becoming a slave to the garden. I have told myself, like you, that everything will be there in the spring so not to worry
Hi Helen
What a wonderful post – you capture how it feels so well. It’s so difficult when you’ve got so many thoughts, ideas and plans whirling around in your head that you don’t know where to start. And that’s paralysing. Lists are a godsend, but don’t let them dictate to you (she says, speaking from bitter experience). You’ve been through a lot in a short time, so I’d echo Lyn’s wise words and be kind to yourself. Enjoy the garden – and the greenhouse! Sian x
Helen, I almost always bite off more than I can chew in the garden. I’ve come to simply assume that a project that I originally imagined as a one-season project will actually take 2-3 years. I guess I’d rather take my time, do it right, and have time to enjoy the garden as well as to work in it. The bog garden may not get done as quickly as you had planned, but that just allows more time to refine your vision for it
! -Jean