Sometimes it seems easier to do the horrid jobs on beautiful days. Piecemeal I am trying to weed the Fragrant Cloud rose bed, sounds easy huh? A recent survey has named this as the most dangerous and difficult area in the garden. It has been neglected for a couple of reasons, thorns and deer. The roses cheek by jowl making it pretty inaccessible except in an armoured suit and deer just eating the roses anyway so who cares (very bad attitude, not to be encouraged). Anyway it is presently carpeted with a varied combination of weed; wild violets, cymbalaria, dandelions, thistles and even echiums (I know very exotic weeds). Yesterday myself and Bosswoman began tentatively to tackle it, time flew as we chattered like a couple of fish wives. There was no singing but there definitely is a gap in the market for a rousing weeding song – just a hint Lady Gaga. Today I continued the slog on my own, not so pleasant but slightly less painful as I remembered my kneepads (some work from gravel path). Let me go off on a bit of a tandem, as a good friend of mine used to say, is it just me who can’t work out the right way up for knee pads? Anyway the percentages are improving, I am sure there is more cleared soil to weed infested nightmare. It may seem that my job is all glamour but today, on too many occasions for good temper, I was attached at both ends, backside and hair, to the yet to be pruned roses. It is too early to prune them as it will spur them into new growth, vulnerable to the inevitable frosts, expending valuable energy they should be saving for next spring. So a prickly minefield has to be endured, I must admit my secateurs were almost drawn in anger several times.
On a lighter note, Painted Lady and Verbena bonariensis, need I say more.