If you look very carefully, you will spot the frog

Frog-tastic

There were two large plastic buckets full of water almost hidden under the ivy near my backdoor - covered in duckweed, as duckweed seems to spread of its own volition - and undoubtedly mosquito sinks.  It was only when I emptied them that I realised they had frogs in - so I had to reinstate both the full buckets of water AND the duckweed and worry about what I had done to remove the ivy.  The frogs, it seems, climb up the ivy branches to get to the water.  Now if i could be sure the frogs would eat all the mosquitos as they hatch, we would all be fine.

Frog lurking on edge of bucket having climbed ivy stem to get there

Mystery moth

Found in the soap dish in the downstairs cloakroom.  I think it is some kind of emerald moth - the moth identity site I looked at gave every moth a greenish cast.  This one was a most beautiful mosaic of turquoise and green.  Rubbish photos taken one handed as taking moth back out into garden to find somewhere more suitable to be.

I kill lavender .... 

What lavender plants should look like - in St Georges Hospital, Tooting

Met a woman in Neals Nursery the other day, she was contemplating salvias (I had to ask) with a friend and said they were a good alternative to lavender.  I confessed to being a serial lavender killer, despite lavender being regarded as hardy, robust, a plant that anyone can grow.  She said that lavender just didn't like the London clay we have round here and I was heartened, possibly even smug, it was not my fault, all those many lavender deaths over the years.  til I went to my mate Denise's for a barbeque round the corner to find her lavender flourishing - so much so she's tied it up in chicken wire and its now taller than a tree.  London clay does not work as an excuse.  

Meanwhile, this year's lavender contenders are down to 17 from the original 24 plug plants.  So far, death is mainly due to being unpotted (de-potted?) by foxes.  My mother laughed to see still rather tiny lavender plants potted up in giant pots - well, it was what I had to hand - and I always live in hope, when it comes to lavender.  Two are even making flowers.  From teeny tiny origins - they were barely 2 cms high when they arrived - they are now approx 8 - 10 cms tall and small bushes (well, potentially bushes)

Lavender plants for sale at Neals Nursery - what most people start off with (sensible people)

.  Hopefully the great bindweed and borage dig out will mean that the lavenders can be planted in the autumn and then we'll see how many survive the winter.  

Teeny tiny lavender plug plants this spring ... 

yup, they really were that small and fragile

There were two varieties of lavender in my cheapo newspaper offer purchase - Hidcote and Munstead.  I didn't realise this until after I had potted them on - and have no way of telling the difference.  In theory, they are for edging borders, tho' I have no intention of edging the borders with lavender.  I plan to plant them in groups, possibly in two different groups with as many plants as possible in each one.  Originally I had planned to plant the whole border with lavender - never a good idea with my track record.  

The vision of my garden as a lavender field in Provence full of happy bees will have to remain exactly that - a vision not a reality.  

Introduction to Bad Gardening blog

yup, that's what I call the lawn - flowering

borage, bindweed, goosegrass ...

I am a bad gardener, haphazard, erratic in attention, failing to follow trends & entirely lacking in that very English virtue of lawn worship.  I have a typical London garden in a typical London terraced house, about 70 foot long and 20 foot wide.  At the moment, there is a lot of borage, bindweed and brambles in it - there is some reason why South West London abounds in giant brambles, which I will track down.  It is south-west facing, has a lot of sun particularly on one side with a brick wall, and the other side is dry shade where nothing but periwinkles and brambles want to grow.  The soil is London clay, which could do with a lot of improvement.  There were trees until a few years ago when fungus got them and I had them taken out.  I'd dearly love a silver birch at the end of the garden with a camellia, which grow well around here.

I don't see my garden as another room on the house - I see it as part of nature, where I commune - and commit murder - with/on snails, slugs, woodlice, ants, bees, butterflies, mosquitos etc, not to mention the local foxes who see my garden as an adventure play ground if not a place to live.  I have a pond purely because there are frogs, and because there are frogs, I don't have fish.  I am fairly traditional as to what I plant - or abuse more like - and a resilient plant is a good plant.

The current dramatis personae include:
- a Perle d'Or rose, given to me by my brother years ago - its almost exactly what i don't like, as its orangey pinky in colour, untidy in flowering with smallish flowers - on the other hand, it is tough, it survives
- red hot pokers - currently in a pot, bought with some newspaper offer years ago and still surviving - they flower pink rather than red but that could, of course, be more to do with the denuded nature of the soil they are growing in
- a Gloire de Lyonnaise rose - from Peter Beales nursery, suffering in a pot and waiting to be transplanted in the autumn, and just pruned rather badly by the foxes the other night so not a lot left except one spike

A mighty borage root - as you can see, it broke off so there was still more, lurking ready to grow more borage any minute now

- the weeds - bindweed, borage and opium poppies in particular tho' this year does seem to have brought forth a crop of thistles of a kind which combines succulence with thorns

This blog is about keeping me on track doing some gardening every week.  My ambition is to have a garden I can have a barbeque in by September.

& just to add to the excitement, gardening has a certain dicing-with-dire-illness as I react very badly to mosquito bites so in theory I sbould only garden when thoroughly doused with insect repellent and wearing abundant clothing.