Outside the Backdoor

Observing what can happen in your own garden even in suburbia!


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As the backdoor closes on another year …

In this Betwixtmas world between Christmas and New Year, what is there to do outside the backdoor?  It’s either frozen solid or sodden, or worse still, both!  We’ve had several mornings where heavy rain has fallen on icy ground, leaving me wondering why people all round the country are paying for the pleasure of ice-skating when they could just take a slide outside!

It is a time, however, for reflection and for planning.  In January Outside the Backdoor celebrates two years as a blog and I’m delighted to say that my WordPress statistics suggest that in 2017 I more than doubled both the views and visitors to the site, which is very rewarding, making it seem all worthwhile. So thank you to everyone who has shown interest and please do keep reading!

So as we look back over 2017, what have been the highlights of the year from Outside the Backdoor?  Well I can’t resist starting with an update on my yucca situation.  Back in October I wrote about Yuccas and me and, at that time the original stalk from which we had taken this year’s cutting, had been unceremoniously dumped behind the garden shed.  It wasn’t our intention to leave it there for long but you know how it is.  Imagine our astonishment when in the depths of November we were having a general tidy around the garden and John spotted that the stem was sprouting!  We brought the pot back indoors and now we have a very healthy set of leaves emerging.

Unexpected yucca sprouting 1 (c) John Malone

And the yucca story doesn’t stop there.  When we took the previous cutting, possibly in 2014, we used the old stem as part of the fill in under our fence to prevent the foxes tunnelling their way through.  On a foray to the far end of the garden to inspect holly in the hopes of a berry or two for Christmas, John spotted that this stem is also shooting!  What is going on?!  These yuccas are obviously a good deal tougher than one might think!

Unexpected yucca sprouting 2 (c) John Malone

 Another highlight of 2017 was definitely crab apple Laura who regaled us with spectacular blossom and a very generous crop of fruit in the autumn, resulting in many jars of jelly and a good contribution to church sales!

Crab apple jelly 2017 (c) Elizabeth Malone

Top of my local highlights list comes my new hot border.  Dug and planted up in the Spring, it provided us with a stunning array of golden yellows, burnt oranges and fiery reds through into the autumn.  In fact, the final flowers of the last rudbedkia only gave into the frosts in early December.  This border was really rewarding and I am only left wondering why we didn’t create it sooner.

New hot border ‘outside the backdoor’ (c) Elizabeth Malone

In this period of looking backwards and forwards, there are two things I’d highlight from 2017 that I hope will come to pass in 2018.  The first is a definite as it is already sitting outside the backdoor now waiting to be planted properly.  We have acquired two new roses, one of which was inspired by our trip to Denmark earlier in the year and in particular to the spectacular gardens of Egeskov Castle.  The Garden of Life, with its journey through time was exceptionally beautiful and we spent a disproportionate amount of our visit here admiring its planting.  The White Garden was also stunning and both had a rose in common – a creamy white rambler with a gorgeous scent which we had seen flourishing elsewhere in Scandinavia.  Courtesy of Peter Beales’ website, Rosa Helenae has since appeared in my Christmas ‘stocking’ – well, heeled into the veg plot as a temporary measure, to be more precise!

The White Garden, Egeskov Castle, Denmark (c) John Malone

What hasn’t arrived yet, and it is probably only a ‘yet’, is a pot or two of Stipa Gigantea.  A week away in early autumn was spent with a view of this golden grass greeting us every morning.  We saw it in rain, wind and occasionally sunshine and left with a strong sense of ‘must have’.  It is on the new year shopping list!

Stipa Gigantea at the Fishing Lodge, Netton (c) Elizabeth Malone

What better way to end 2017 than devising a shopping list for 2018!  And I’ve not even started browsing the seed catalogues that have dropped onto the door mat over the Christmas break – how timely!  So as we say farewell to 2017, let’s look forward to the garden flourishing in 2018.

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Dark at breakfast, dark at tea

"The Advent wind begins to stir
 With sea-like sounds in our Scotch fir,
 It's dark at breakfast, dark at tea,
 And in between we only see
 Clouds hurrying across the sky
 And rain-wet roads the wind blows dry
 And branches bending to the gale
 Against great skies all silver pale ..."

John Betjeman’s Advent 1955 is one of my favourite poems of the season.  I don’t have a Scotch fir but I do overlook the tall poplar trees along the railway line and they certainly bend in the gale, their skeletal forms looking particularly wintry against the early morning skies.  But it’s that “dark at breakfast, dark at tea” line which for me sums up the essence of this time of year outside the backdoor.  It’s the fate of the working gardener.

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As I head off to work at 7:30am, it is just getting light and I am sometimes treated to spectacular sunrises as I approach the station.  By the time return at 6.00pm it has already been dark for a couple of hours.  Closer to Christmas, the walk home is brightened by the various lit decorations and last year I found myself running my own ‘best door wreath’ competition in my head!  However, this means that I don’t see the garden at all during the week and my first view outside on a Saturday morning can be quite a revelation!  For example, the sudden realisation that the winter clematis is in full flower or that some over-eager bulbs have started to shoot.

Over the past 6-7 years, we have ensured that we plant winter flowering shrubs near the house so that we can easily catch a glimpse of them either from the dining room on a cold / wet day or see them illuminated by the glow of the Christmas lights.  For the last two winters, I have made a deliberate effort to plant a large pot with a winter flowering display that will catch the light, using pale cream or lemon violas, white hellebores and either silver or gold leaved ivies, avoiding anything with dark petals or dark leaves that won’t reflect what light there is.  I’ve positioned it beyond the kitchen window so that it catches some of the light from the house when we’re cooking.

I will also enjoy the moment when we can head outside to decorate our Christmas tree which has been sitting in its pot all year waiting for its moment of glory.  It’s grown a lot this year, entertaining us with its bright green shoots in Spring and growing by at least six inches!  We started this tradition of an outdoor tree on the patio when our cats were kittens but now it’s become a habit and we actually rather enjoy having the tree outside and the way its decorations sparkle in the winter sunlight or twinkle away as the wind causes the branches and lights to quiver.  We will also weave white lights around our olive trees on the patio and through the hawthorn, although this might be a bit of a challenge this year as we’ve just had the hawthorn pruned back quite substantially which, in itself, is letting more light into the house.

I am the first to admit that I am quite a fair-weather gardener so I would be lying if I said that I am looking forward to the long Christmas holiday so that I can get out into the garden and do stuff but I always hope for a few dry days in the run up to Christmas so that we can raid the garden for Christmas greenery without the need to dry it off before bringing it indoors.  Any holly that has real berries will decorate inside whilst holly, ivy and laurel will make up some swags to adorn our side gates.

However, I am looking forward to the long holiday as it will enable me to be at home in the daylight so that I can really appreciate what is sitting just outside the backdoor.  I will enjoy sitting in the warm looking out at the active birds flitting between feeders.  If it’s mild, I may even spot an occasional bumble-bee seeking food amidst the clematis flowers or ivy, and like many of you I’m sure, I will sit mulling ideas of things to do in the Spring!