Sometimes, it's even about plants and gardening...

Sunday 30 December 2012

The Empire Strikes Back...?


Among this year's Christmas presents was a gift from my step-daughter that perhaps gives an interesting insight into how wicked she perceives her step-mother to be... 

Knowing me to be something of a Luddite and thus not in possession of an iPhone or similarly sophisticated means of managing my life (and accessing all of human knowledge in an instant), she's bought me a very nice quality diary and personal organiser.

I must confess I am in need of encouragement to manage my business on a somewhat more professional basis.  I haven't ever been in the habit of carrying a diary with me, mainly because I tend to live out of my pockets and if I do carry a bag, it's my small camera bag - chock-full of photographic gear - rather than a 'proper' hand or shoulder bag as a rule.  So if anyone asks about gardening work on a face-to-face basis I inevitably end up writing the details on whatever odd scrap of paper I can find in my pocket or purse (which could be anything from a 'Love Music Hate Racism' leaflet to the back of a Sainsbury's receipt), which might be a laudible, sustainable way of reusing resources, but does look a bit amateurish.

I'm not entirely persuaded that my new Darth Vader 'Don't Underestimate the Force' diary will create quite the wholesome image of 'Sarah's Plants and Gardening Service' that I had in mind when I selected the cheery clean green design with strawberry plant logo for my business card.  On the other hand, I have seen a few gardens where access to a lightsabre might have made clearing the brambles and scrub a quicker and less scratchy process, and frankly nothing short of the power of Death Star itself is going to clear Ground Elder if you have the misfortune to have that in your garden!
I am, however, convinced there will be serious diary envy amongst colleagues at the Citizens' Advice Bureau where I am due to provide some non-horticultural training in the near future, even if we see ourselves aligned with the Rebel Alliance rather than the evil Senator Palpatine - or as he's better known in this quadrant of the galaxy, Ian Duncan-Smith. 

Happy New Year, and may the Force be with you!

Monday 24 December 2012

And a Merry Christmas to both of my readers...

Flooded footpath beside the Itchen Navigation
There's a break in the clouds at the moment, allowing a shaft of sunlight to fall across my keyboard, but the weather forecast suggests that this will be a short-lived phenomenon and the rain will start to fall again very soon.
We've just returned from a pre-Christmas visit to friends and family in Hampshire and West Sussex, which had been slightly less water-logged than North Staffordshire until the night we arrived, when prolonged and heavy rain onto already saturated ground caused widespread flooding and even a few evacuations where flood defences threatened to collapse. 

We escaped largely unscathed, except that a planned walk with friends along the Itchen Navigation north of Southampton came to a premature and soggy conclusion in both directions when firstly, we found the water meadows to the east of Southampton Airport completely inundated, and then the path under water at Allbrook.
Soggy jogger
However, since that was at the very moment that the Mayan Apocalypse was supposed to be in full force, arguably we got off quite lightly under the circumstances!

And it appears to be staying damp for the rest of the week, though at least this suggests that the doom-laden predictions of the Daily Express a few weeks ago that we would by now all be shivering under blankets of snow and temperatures of minus twenty are a pile of pants.  Like almost everything else that scurrilous right-wing rag prints, I'm forced to add.

Anyway, if you've enjoyed reading this blog during the year, thank you for your interest and feedback, and watch out for more bad puns, sarcasm and socialism in 2013.  If not sooner, as it doesn't look like great weather for walking, boating or anything else to tempt me too far from the keyboard.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Tuesday 18 December 2012

Ethics Girl

What I do when I'm not gardening...
Some readers will by now be wondering whether I write posts simply to inflict excruciating puns on an unsuspecting world, rather than to impart gardening knowledge, promote my horticultural and craft work or expound the odd bit of left-wing philosophy.

You've rumbled me, guys!

Not true, actually - the dodgy puns are simply there to grab attention in the same manner as a good tabloid headline, my favourite of recent years being the immortal "Sign on, you Crazy Diamond!" when the bonus-grabbing boss of RBS had to step down.  Which brings me seamlessly to today's dilemma on the subject of business ethics; should I still be blogging with Google in the light of their tax-evading shenanigans?  After all, I don't drink coffee from Starbucks (actually, I don't drink coffee...), I've done no online shopping via Amazon (ever - but I'm a Luddite, of course), I seek out the Fair Trade mark on foodstuffs almost as diligently as I sniff out special offers and try and lead a good, green, sustainable life (ie. I'm mean with fuel).

So don't be too surprised if at some point in the New Year, this gardening blog reappears in a new format with a new company.  Wordpress seems to be the provider of choice for quite a few right-on projects, though whether I can import my old posts or not isn't clear from what I've read so far. 

I hope so, as it would rather defeat the object of teaching Google how not to be evil if I have to set up a permanent link back to them!

Thursday 13 December 2012

Working in a Winter Wonderland


Our frosty front garden
After my previous post's plant-free rant about the Government's shameful attitude to benefit claimants, it's back to matters horticultural this week despite several degrees of frost and freezing fog in this part of the world.

Hardly ideal conditions in which to wield the trowel or secateurs, you might think, but in fact I have enjoyed two days in succession tidying up gardens to help them look their best in winter and seen some particularly beautiful sights in the process.
Frost-covered foliage
It's strange how on a frosty, foggy day the hoarfrost seems to grow as the day wears on.  The plainest shrub suddenly acquires a delicate white edging to all of its leaves; the dry brown stalks of a summer perennial glisten silver in a moment of pale sunlight.  Nothing shows off the vivid red stems of a Cornus quite as impressively as a backdrop of sparkling frost-dusted evergreen foliage.  And everywhere is so wonderfully still and quiet, apart from the sound of the cold ground creaking and crackling under your feet.
Bright berries of Cotoneaster
To enjoy these delights safely and comfortably, I'd recommend at least two layers of socks (woolly tights with socks gives an extra layer on the legs) inside a sturdy pair of boots and definitely gloves, also more than one pair but for wearing alternately rather than together.  When one pair become wet and freezing cold, they can sit on a hot radiator and thaw out while pair number two take over; swap them as required.

Luckily my client yesterday had a blisteringly hot radiator perfect for a very quick turnaround of defrosted gloves and also thawed me out nicely at lunchtime with a delicious bowl of leek and potato soup, garnished with smoked salmon.  I am tempted to make this a standard condition for anyone seeking to engage me as a gardener, but frankly I cannot afford to be quite so fussy!

Thursday 6 December 2012

Behind the Curtains

A bleak outlook
David Cameron, George Osborne and the unspeakably self-righteous IDS have latched on to a soundbite they trot out at every opportunity to justify their hatchet job on the Social Security system.  It’s that one about the hard-working man or woman setting off for their job in the morning and gazing resentfully at the drawn curtains of their unemployed neighbours.

Workshy scrounger! Boo, hiss! 

Before we all rush in and beat the lazy blighters around the head with our rolled up copies of the Daily Mail (or its baby brother, The Sentinel, in this part of the world), let’s look behind the curtains at the people curled up in bed and listen in on their thoughts.

“This time last year I was on site by now, but was made redundant when our firm ran out of work.”

“Buy food, or try and pay off the ‘Wonga’ loan?”

“I miss having a laugh with my mates at work.”

“If we stay in bed for another couple of hours, it’ll save putting the heating on.  We can’t cope with another bill like the last one.”

“Who’s going to take me on - at my age and after a heart attack – with so many younger, fitter people out of work?”

 “I hope the agency have something for him today; me and the kids can’t cope with these angry moods much longer.”

“That smug so-and-so over the road won’t be so high and mighty when his boss works out he can replace him with a ‘trainee’ off the Work Programme who’ll do his job for nothing!”

Oh yes, there’s so much to be jealous of, isn’t there?  Far more to hate about the unemployed than, say, the commodities dealer who can spread famine across half a continent with a couple of clicks of a mouse or the investment banker moving virtual funds around in an electronic world whose actions close a real factory in Saigon, Shanghai or Sheffield.  And let’s hear it for the lady living in a mansion on the profits creamed off from a company that farms out unemployed people to fake training schemes giving highly profitable companies free labour, so taking ‘real’ jobs out of the economy, and the smug director of a ‘Pay Day Loans’ company rubbing his hands at the news of the poor getting even poorer and more desperate.  They’re ‘wealth creators’ and worthy of tax cuts, aren’t they George?

And they certainly don’t want you making hostile judgements about the smarmy politician who not only has never had to try and manage on Jobseekers’ Allowance himself, but doesn’t know anyone who ever has either.  If they and their tabloid editor chums keep up the rhetoric about the ‘workshy’, they hope you’ll forget that the ‘working age benefits’ they’re cutting are also paid to disabled people even Atos accepts are unable to work, and that Tax Credits and Housing Benefit help to support to low paid workers too.

Making all these people poorer won’t force a single person back to work who doesn’t fancy going, because the genuinely dodgy few will find the odd bit of cash-in-hand or low-level crime to keep them ticking over whatever happens to their benefits, and cuts at the DWP mean staff have less than half as much time as they used to scrutinise their availability for work or to offer them proper employment advice on ‘signing on’ day.  And anyway, where are all those jobs?  How many of the ‘new’ private sector vacancies were simply the product of the creeping privatisation of our Public Services.

Let’s get the truth about ‘fairness’ out there and nail these lies. 

It’s time to bring down the curtain on this vicious Coalition government.

Wednesday 5 December 2012

A Midwinter Day's Dream

Fairy reclining on a floating log
I know, fellow pedants; technically, it's still autumn, but it's too good a title not to use when you're writing about a walk round the lake at the glorious Trentham Gardens on a crisp afternoon looking out for the rather pretty fairy sculptures tucked in amongst the trees.
Posing fairy at the weir
Trentham Gardens is fabulous at any time of year and I'm daft not to visit much more frequently, especially since a lot of the year my RHS membership gets me in free of charge.  Jon is a 'concession' as a pensioner, which means we can both get in for less than a fiver, although he was suitably flattered when the guy on the till asked if it was 'two adults' today! 
Stronger than she looks, apparently!
The wind had a sharp edge walking along the open side of the lake, but we were sheltered under the trees for our return to the Italian Gardens end of the lake.  Out of the sun, there was still ice on many puddles, and no shortage of puddles either after the heavy rain earlier in the week.  The Trent was flowing briskly and debris along the banks suggested it had been very high indeed recently.

It was tempting to get a hot chocolate in the cafe, but we were still full after a tasty lunch at PieMinister and had plans to do some Christmas shopping before it got too dark and cold, so didn't divert far into the formal gardens.  These look absolutely stunning if there's a hoarfrost because the gardening team wisely resist the temptation to scythe off all the dead topgrowth of the summer perennials, so if it's a chilly winter, I'm sure we'll be back.

For more photos of Trentham Gardens through the seasons, there are more Flickr images at
http://www.flickr.com/photos/30634865@N03/sets/72157624267204186/