The ‘If only…’ Club

My other half as accused me of being a little too preachy with some of the sermons, sorry articles, I have written over the last number of weeks and to be honest, she has a point. It seems that the older I get the more opinionated I get, and I am constantly trying to find an outlet to blow off some steam. She has stopped listening to me or just nods absent mindedly at me, my young son ignores me and my one-year-old daughter is more intent on pulling the cat’s eyebrows off than paying me the slightest bit of attention when I’m off on a rant. That just leaves this column, so my-my, aren’t you all so very lucky.
And so, this week I’m going to give you my two cents, or possibly five, on the first steps of garden design and planning, which start with the house itself.
When planning their house, most people spend time and money getting every detail right on the inside. From the position of internal doors to the layout of the kitchen, and from where to put the fireplace to what type of fixture to use in the bathroom, it’s all perfectly thought out to the last detail. Unfortunately many people don’t even consider the garden until the last cushion is placed on the couch and everything inside is finished. It’s around this time that people look out their windows or doors and start using ‘If only’ at the beginning of each sentence.
‘If only we had a window in that wall we could see the river from here!’
‘If only we had planted that hedge a year ago it would be growing by now!’
‘If only we had put the patio door in the other wall our deck would be in the sun!’
‘If only we had faced the house that direction we would have a mountain view from the living room!’
Hindsight is probably the most useless and unhelpful of attributes, and we all know plenty of people who use it to full advantage to say ‘I knew that would happen!’ after the event, so don’t give them ammunition. From the position and size of each and every window to the orientation of the house, planning is crucial if you want to stay out of the ‘If only…’ club.
A few years ago, when we went about choosing the house we wanted from the development we now live on, we studied the site plan long and hard. We had a choice of about 20 houses, all of which were the same shape and size, but their positions weren’t. The end houses were gone, not to mention out of our price range, so we looked at the others carefully until one stood out above the other. Firstly, the rear garden was going to face south. Secondly, it would be situated on a slight bend that meant that the plot on which the house would stand was wider at the back than at the front giving a much bigger back garden. And thirdly, it would have a downward sloping driveway, which meant that as long as I kept my handbrake in good working order we had the advantage of looking out from the front window onto a bank of plants (no lawn), even when we were sitting down.
So even when you are buying a house off plan where they all look identical, not all houses are really the same. I know this all seems like common sense but when you are wrapped up in the act of purchasing the house you can easily forget details like this.
Building your own house gives you more flexibility in a lot of ways and it certainly gives you a lot more choice with regard to the actual position and orientation of the house. It amazes me why people always seem to position a house parallel to the road instead of positioning it to make the best use of the sun, the view or any other logical reason. Maybe it’s to do with planning regulations where there is a row of houses but I think it’s more to do with what is perceived to be the ‘norm’ in building a home.
Also, of course, you can dictate where the windows go (Within reason. Mrs Mulcahy mightn’t want you looking in on her doing Pilates in the back room of her house next door.), so you need to look at framing the view from each important windows as if you were taking a photo. That mountain should be at least in frame when you’re sitting on your couch watching the sun go down with a glass of vino.
The back of the house or wherever you plan to put your patio should be south, or better still, south-west facing to catch the last rays of the evening sun. A shaded patio might work well in a country with more sunshine than Ireland but here it will become an unusable, moss-covered, snail exploited waste of space.
So, keep all this in mind when you start talking with your architect. Dictate where you want those windows and where that patio door should go. Any architect who knows his stuff will already be aware of all this anyway. Visit the site and position yourself where you will be sitting and visualise where every aperture will go, turn the house if planning allows so that you have the best aspect for the use of natural light, both inside and out. Think it all through before you even consider what shade of cream to paint the guest bathroom.
Please don’t be one of the ‘If only…’ club. It has enough members already and the cost of joining is too high.
Here endeth the lesson. I’ll try to leave the sermons to those who are better at them from next week on.
Maybe.

Forget-Me-Not Flowers?

I don't want to sound like a grumpy old man who starts every sentence with, 'I remember when......' but I get the feeling I'm going to come across that way anyway. OK, so I am a little grouchy, or so I've been told, but I'm only in my early forties so I don't think I qualify as old. Although it is all relative. My son, who at four and is only concerned about his own age and his friend’s, asked me what age I was and when I replied that I was forty-one he said,
'Wow. That certainly is a big number! It's nearly fifty!'
(Yes, he's four so every sentence ends with a question mark or an exclamation mark. Often both.)
Anyway, I remember when (I know, I know) houses had proper flowers in their front gardens. I'm only talking about the seventies and eighties so it's not that long ago. Yes, I know people still plant flowers but it's usually a couple of hanging baskets full of Trailing Petunias or a window box full of Lobelia and Busy Lizzies. Don't get me wrong, that’s all fine if it floats your boat but it seems to me to be a bit boring and repetitive. Sure, they will flower all summer and are certainly bright and cheery but that’s not how it used to be.
I guess up to the late eighties, garden centres, free time and money were scarce and people grew plants that they could get for free from their neighbours or relatives. At least they knew they’d grow well in their own garden. And so they spread from garden to garden, getting bigger and better each year and requiring very little maintenance. Just getting cut back in Autumn when they had finished flowering, sometimes by a stray lawnmower or sheep. Take a wander through some of the older estates in any town or pre-nineteen-nineties houses in the countryside and you will see what I mean. This time of the year these plants are all in flower and looking wonderful but you rarely see them in any of the new estates or houses.
These were mostly perennial flowers, basically plants that die back each year but return bigger, and better, the following year. Plants such as Peonies, Irises, 'Real' Geraniums (as distinct from the summer bedding Geranium that is actually a Pelergonium.), Easter Lilies and even perennial Sweet Pea. That’s a plant that I remember rambling through the hedge in my granny's garden.

Then in the nineties we got a little money and were being influenced by The Small Gods of Gardening from both sides of the Irish Sea.
‘Flowers aren’t hip or cool!’ they said.
‘Use leaf colour, texture and shapes!’ they said.
‘Pull out all those stupid plants your granny gave you!’ they said.
‘Trust us. We’re on the telly so we know what we’re talking about.’ They said
And like sheep following a shepherd, even if it’s towards a slaughterhouse, we obeyed. Or at least I did.
I planted my garden in the nineties and it’s all angles, grasses, leaves and the wonderfully termed ‘architectural’ plants (or weeds as my other half calls them). I was, and still am, very happy with the garden but I always felt it was missing something. I couldn’t put my finger on it until I was working with a garden centre in Wexford last year, berating them about their signage or something, and spotted a batch of ‘Real’ Geraniums, purple-blue ones that I remembered from years before in my mum’s garden. Suddenly it dawned on me what my garden was missing; plants with a history or story, and something that jogs your memory about people or places. So slowly but surely I have introduced these plants into my garden, so that at least in a few years time, I can tell my kids about the plants and how I remember them from when I was their age. (I’ll probably have to wait until they’re out of their teenage years when I’d probably just get a shrug and an ‘Uh, so wha’ dad.’)

I think another problem is that people of my generation can often remember these plants but have no idea what they are called. When they go to garden centres they either can't find them, get blinded by tray after tray of summer bedding or are too scared to ask staff about 'the lovely plant my granny had with flowers like a big bluey-purple buttercup.' (Which would probably be Geranium magnificum that I mentioned earlier by the way. My mum had one either side of the gate in our home place, which she shared with many. The plants that is, not the house.)
My point is don't be afraid to ask. Bring in a piece of the plant, or a photo, or just describe it. Any plantsperson in a garden centre should know what you are looking for if you provide enough information. Plant them now, even if they are going out of flower, and by next year they will be fantastic, with loads of flower and colour.
Here are a few of my favourites to get you going, but what you should do of course, is track down the plants that you remember from when you were young.

Iris – All are showy and easy to grow. Lift them and divide them every few years and they will grow and grow. I like Iris ensata (Japanese Iris) and they are worth searching out in any good plant orientated garden centre.

Peony – These have gigantic blooms in a range of colours. They can look a little weedy in their pots when you buy them but give them a good home and they will knock your socks off! Search out the dark red varieties.

Perennial Geraniums – These come in shades of blue, pink and white and are one of the easiest plants you could ever grow. My favourites are the bluey-purple Geranium magnificum I mentioned already and a golden leaved, magenta flowered variety called ‘Ann Folkard’.

Lady's Mantle (Alchemilla mollis) – This is a great low growing, yellow flowered perennial that's claim to fame is it's nice yellow dainty flowers and the way the water sits in it's leaves, like little crystal beads.

Catmint (Nepeta) – This is another low growing plant that has loads of pale blue flowers all summer. This also drives your cat loopy. You have been warned!

When planting any of these just make up a mix of compost and slow-release fertilizer or chicken manure pellets, mix it with the soil that you're packing in around the plant and water well. Don't let the weeds grow around them and trim them back when the leaves start to go brown in the Autumn.

Wouldn't it be great if in twenty or thirty years time our kids or grandkids were saying, 'I'd love one of those plants that granddad has, the one with the big blue, buttercup shaped flowers. That will always remind me of him.'
Remembering is important.

By the light of the silvery moon…

I was putting out the cat the other night and as I opened the door and forced the struggling mass of claws and fur into the cold, crisp night I was taken aback by the clearness of the sky. Growing up in the countryside with a lack of streetlights and general light pollution I was used to impossibly starry nights or a full moon bathing the countryside in its silvery, ethereal light. Now that I live in an artificially lit urban sprawl I rarely get to experience the same breathtaking displays of twinkling stars with the background glow of the Milky Way as it washes across the sky. These days I’m lucky to see a fuzzy moon, the Evening Star and a few other bright objects if the sky is clear, many of which are man made. As are any Milky Ways I see incidentally.
This night was different. The moon was three-quarters full and you could see every pockmark and blemish on its surface. Towards the south, straight in my line of vision were the three stars of the Belt of Orion, brilliant and clear, as were the rest of that constellation with Betelgeuse twinkling pinkishly on Orion’s right shoulder and Rigel marking his left foot, as clear as I have ever seen them. There were other stars visible everywhere as I looked up through the canopy of growth on the pergola over my deck. The whole effect was marred only slightly by the cat trying desperately to get back into the house, only to find his way blocked by the size nine boot on the foot of a leg, attached to a body, which held my literally moonstruck face. I was speechless, and to think people say I’m not a romantic soul!
Well one person says it anyway.
I’m not the first gardener to be affected by the moon and stars. Planting by moonlight and by the phases of the moon has gone on for thousands of years. Our ancestors must have felt it influenced the sowing of crops in the same way that they worshiped the other celestial bodies for other reasons. In the hippy-dippy days of the last century, and also this one, there’s been a revival of these theories again, but I have to say I’m not convinced.
There are many books, articles and websites that claim that planting by the phases of moon or by the movements of the stars and planets – biodynamic gardening - can help to increase the quantity and quality of your crops but I just don’t buy it. Many of the theories they set out are conflicting, and although it’s obvious and logical that the moon can influence the tides and that it stops our planet spinning towards the outer reaches of space, I think that’s it really. Claims have been made about moisture being pulled to the top of the soil or around the plants themselves like seawater being pulled around the planet but that doesn’t seem to make much sense. And as for how a collection of stars that form a shape only noticeable from our little planet can affect things? Well…I guess you can see I’m not a big fan of astrology either. Call me a Doubting Thomas but I would really have to see some bona fide proof. But if any of you want to do some experimenting then feel free. Just don’t blame me if the neighbours avoid you on the street when you’re seen planting onions with the moonlight glinting off your hoe.
What I do agree with is a moonlight garden, as in one that looks good by the light of the moon. If I had the space I would certainly have one section of my garden themed this way, although it’s easy enough to incorporate a few lunar landscaping ideas in to any garden.
Moonlit gardens are easy enough to achieve, as all you need are plants that look or smell good in the moonlight. The most obvious plants are those with large, pure-white flowers that reflect the moon’s glow. Good options would be white Cosmos, single white roses such as ‘White Wings’ and white flowered Cistus. Silver coloured foliage is also a good bet so plants such as Cotton Lavender (Santolina chamaecyparissus), Lamb’s Ears (Stachys lanata) and somewhat invasive Snow-in-Summer (Cerastium tomentosum), that one has the added bonus of white flowers too. The blooms on some plants close up at night so there might be a bit of trial and error with your selection.
Fragrant plants such as white Lilac would be a good choice, as you would get both the flower colour and the fragrance. White Buddleia would be another good option for flowers and scent. Clematis armandii and Summer Jasmine (Jasmine officinalis) are strongly scented, white-flowered climbing plants. That’s just a few options but really the choice is endless.
Have a think about it. Picture a moonlit night with flowers glowing ghost-like in the garden and wonderfully subtle scents wafting through the air as you sip your white wine on a balmy August evening. You lie back on your sunlounger and stare at the stars as the twinkle back at you. A shooting star streaks across the sky and you make a wish. All the while the cat is purring gently on your lap and the sound of soft music, playing low and crackly on your old vinyl record player, spills out from the living room. You nod off to sleep only to be woken by a kiss from your one true love…
And she says I’m not romantic! Huh!

Bunny boilers? No, burners

The weather has been so unsavoury and unpredictable over the last few weeks that my thoughts haven’t been on the garden, apart from watching the birds decimate the last of the berries on my ‘Kiftsgate’ rose and the local cats sticking their tongues to the pond, both of which were just mildly entertaining to be honest. Really the priority has been to catch up on some work on the computer, making sure that the fridge is fully stocked and that the house is toasty warm. Keeping our home warm is pretty easy these days, as it just means flicking a switch on the gas boiler. Although I am getting worried about what our bill will be like when it arrives and cursing the fact that I hadn’t the foresight to invest in Bord Gais shares in the autumn.
Heating homes has been an issue for everyone this year and our neighbours in Europe have had the same problems as we have had. But one country in particular has come up with a novel way of heating homes.
The Swedes have been burning rabbits.
Now we all know that Sweden is famous for Abba, large blue and yellow furniture stores, boxy cars and peace prizes, not necessarily in that order mind, but this little fact about bunnies came as a bit of a surprise. Ok, just to clarify things, it’s not as if you can go into your local shop and buy a bag of coal, some firelighters and a bale of rabbits bound together briquette-like with a strong piece of orange strapping. These rabbits have come from the parks in Stockholm where they have become a bit of a nuisance.
Over the past number of years many of the parks have been plagued by rabbits, which have been happily munching their way through the plants that try to grow there. Any of you who have had a few rabbits in your garden know only too well the damage they can wreak in a night of foraging, so you can imagine that the groundskeepers were not entirely happy providing breakfast, lunch and dinner for an army of bunnies. The ‘wild’ rabbit population in the parks has been exacerbated by people who had bought a pet rabbit, got bored with it and let it out to play with its cousins in the local park, and then ran like hell.
Something had to be done, so for the past number of years Stockholm has organised a cull of the rabbits in a bid to reduce the population because, as we all know, if you have one male rabbit and one female rabbit you soon end up with…well, you do the maths. This of course created the problem of what to do with thousands of rabbit carcasses and although I can personally attest to the fact that they make a fine pie, this must not have been to the taste of the locals. Then one enterprising person thought up the idea of burning them as a biofuel. So now they freeze them, transport them to a large bioenergy incinerator and ‘convert’ them to heat for people’s houses.
Now just in case you think its just rabbits that are being picked on I should also add that they burn other animals that for one reason or another can’t be used as foodstuff too.
Now I know many of you will think of this as cruel, but having thought about it for a while it seems to me a better use that going to landfill. If the rabbits are a problem, which evidentially they are, and they are being culled anyway, which is also the case, then is this not the best solution to the problem? If it were rats I was talking about would you even think twice about it? Or perhaps my compassion gland, or whatever it is, is no longer functioning after years of abuse.
It does of course raise other questions, such as whether the energy used to cull, freeze, transport and then burn the creatures is more than what they produce but that’s a question for another time. And it’s for the Swedes to worry about, not me or you.
Maybe we are all too squeamish about the whole thing? Perhaps we should recycle more animals and pets in this way? In years to come, along with our other recycle bins and basket for glass we’ll have a container for the goldfish, those mice that you caught in the traps last week and, dare I say it, the pet moggy?
Now don’t shoot the messenger. I’m not saying I’m for the idea, I’m just putting the thought out there, just so you won’t be shocked if it happens. After all, I’m sure the whole world laughed at the first person that came up with the idea of recycling mobile phones.
Anyway, next summer if you’re in a park in Sweden and you see all the nice flowers and shrubs growing and flourishing there, think about the bunnies and what became of them.
To be honest, I’ll still be thinking about the rabbit pie. I’ll send you the recipe if you like?