End of year….

    Well that's just about the end of another year and I cannot say that I am sorry to see the backside of it. It just seems to have been one of those periods of time when if it can go wrong it bloody well will do so (as have the years before it), whole heartedly arse and good riddance to it is what I say. Because I have only recently started to scribe once more on these hallowed pages the events of the last few years are not 'out there' and I don't think that I shall be trawling them up from the depths of time to recount them with you for the past is now done, the future lies ahead and the now is the important part m'thinks. If I do manage to continue scribing here I may well recount to you some of the events of the past for context to some of my tales, but we shall see.

    Tis a funny time of year this be, I am always very low at Christmas yet the few days betwixt Yule and the waxing of the New Year fill me with some hope that life will become easier but at the same time I still hear the Black Dog just whispering in my minds ear that it will never be plain sailing. Within these in-between days I have managed a couple of days of work, much to the protests of my back and knees and I am thinking that there is going to be plenty more of the same with the forecast of more stormy weather coming our way. Perhaps the northern gods have sent the storms as a reward for me not giving up as yet, or perhaps it is just global warming? Whichever it is I am grateful for the chance to earn some coppers for my purse, and I am thinking that Odin is perhaps keeping an eye out for me (well he is not likely to keep two out is he!)

    But there is indeed a decided difference to my mindset as I look to the coming year that is hard for me to put into words. But perhaps it is suffice to say that I feel within my not so youthful body, a yearning to make it better, happier and more piratey, gar. After all the Northern gods do not look fondly upon those who just lie down on life's road without a bloody good fight do they. 

    Oh and just a quick update on the Orc's Workshop, as well as some more tidying in the between days I have repaired and sold this heavy duty strimmer...

    And already have my next project on the bench, although this one is no quick fix as a total refurbishment and rebuilt is required and coupled with the fact that it was stripped to its present state at least two years ago so finding the parts and fitting them back into the puzzle should be fun, not....

    So finally it is just left for me to wish you all a New Year that smiles upon you and yours and grants you peace, health, happiness and the chance for a little piracy.

    Hopefully I will see you in the year ahead for more tall tales and unwarranted ramblings..

John

  

Oh the bloody shame of it….

     Hoping to have some respite from seasonal gluttony, my sloth like physical state induced by the usual non too healthy Christmas fare and descended relatives, I decided to take myself to the Orc’s Workshop this afternoon. This was in the forlorn hope of doing something productive and perhaps clearing my fuddled head. Unfortunately during the last few months I had taken to using the workshop as a sort of dumping ground for all manner of future projects. You see I have this addiction of ‘collecting’ items that I am sure will either come in useful, be restored for a handsome profit or just because they are nice and shiny. Surely there must be some sort medical help for such an horrendous affliction that leaves a man incapable of using his workshop for its intended purpose. Just think of the riches the scientist who came up with such a cure would be showered with, a Noble prize would be the very least of the honours bestowed upon her I am sure. And yes I did say ‘her’ for there is no possibility of a man coming up with the cure, it just goes so against the primitive man’s way of thinking I feel!

    Anyway I feel that we are losing the wind here and there is a need to get back on tac m’thinks. Opening the door to my refuge and place of deepest meditation I was confronted with this unholy and damn shameful site….

My head is bowed in shame…

    I consoled myself with the thought that at least I would not have allowed the inner sanctum (barely glimpsed on the left side of the above picture) to fall into such neglect and disarray. I mean it is the nucleus of my thinking (scheming), design (doodling), coffee imbibing, working of mechanical miracles (hitting lawnmowers with various hammers) and general brilliance (lots of swearing ). There is absolutely no way that I would disrespect the Norse gods and risk their wrath by dishonouring the inner sanctum of the Orc’s Workshop, absolutely no way at all….

Bugger..

    So it seems that my proposed birthplace of world trade domination is in a ….ahem…. a little bit of a state and is not really the place to work in comfort and in an organised manner. I thought of just retreating and closing the door behind me, perhaps hoping for an act of a certain Norse deity striking it down with his mighty hammer leaving me just to claim an exorbitant fee against the shysters from the dark shadows known as ‘insurance companies’. But then again the state of the workshop is completely down to my actions and the Norse Gods do not help those whom fail to help themselves. So rolling up my sleeves, figuratively so ‘cause without any source of heat the workshop is a bloody cold place this time of year, I cleared off the chair of meditation from its debris and set too making a plan of action. The full list that this induced is far too long for me to write here but it involves tidying and organisation (yes I know that’s bloody obvious), structural repairs, insulation (the walls are only a single course thick for Odin’s sake!), floor levelling, better workstations, improve the electrics and a friggen decent heat source.

    Oh and I did make a start upon tiding as at the very least I require a workbench on which to perform some minor miracles if the workshop is to progress…

And breathe..

    I have a sneaky feeling that the work ahead will not be without issues and certainly a lot of time will be spent moving stuff from one side of the workshop to the other for me to be able to facilitate (ooohh big word) the changing of the w’shop from its present state to a functioning area. I also know that my use of the Anglo Saxon language will give the w’shop’s air a lovely blue tint.

Til the next time stay safe and enjoy your life.

John t’ shamed

Bah Humbug..

     Wishing one and all a very Merry Christmas and the all the very best for a wonderful New Year..

Credit G. Lawson

    Hell fire you don’t know how much that hurt….

The longest night…

     Tis soon that time of year when we are kept in the dark the longest, the winter solstice. For the vast majority of people, I feel these days the solstice passes by with little, if any attention or fanfare. For myself it is an evening that I keenly look forward too, not for the naked dancing and frivolous fornication around a blazing fire of green oak logs sprinkled with pine cones for their heady aroma (oops said to much again), or any other Druidy type celebration for that matter. Nope, actually it is because the long nights do indeed affect my mood greatly and the realisation and expectation of the longest night being upon us and that the daylight will soon start to lengthen seems to lift my spirit with the promise of better times ahead. That and the fact that longer daylight hours means more work hours for moi. 

    Speaking of Druidy goings on brings to mind an occasion in my youth, many years ago. It was Hallows Eve and myself and a rather lovely female companion had decided to take a trip up to the top car park at Moel Fammau, a local spot notorious for dimly lit evening rendezvous of the errr.... romantic nature. Arriving there at a suitable late hour the car park was covered in a right pea soup of a fog, not an uncommon thing up there and also not unwelcome at such times. The hour was indeed late and we were fully engrossed in our hot and sweaty ...err ...political debate when I could have sworn I heard the crunch of many feet upon the gravel of the car park. Startled from .... discussion... I looked out when several people, just shadows in the fog, strode past my faithful Vauxhall Viva with flaming torches held high. Now I don't mean torches powered by bloody AA batteries, no these were actually flaming brands burning against the foggy air. I don't think that I have ever before or since moved as fast as I did that night, clambering into the drivers seat (well politics should always be discussed in the rear seat as any gentleman knows) and firing up Bertha's engine (the car's not the young lady's). Turning on the headlights the scene that unfolded was something out of one those Hammer House of Horror movies, there must have been at least twenty five of these white robed, flame wielding and hooded figures marching towards the path that leads to the Fammau's Jubilee tower ruin that sits atop its summit. Christ I thought it's the bloody KKK, either that or Frankenstein's monster has got out again. I can honestly state old Bertha broke the land speed record on the twisty road down the Fammau and then on to the town of Mold. It wasn't until we were approaching the very well lit street leading to the young ladies family abode did she softly whisper those never to be forgotten sweet words into my ear "are you putting your bloody cloths back on before my dad comes out?".

    It wasn't until I was returning to my own home that I realised the date and that some daft sods were stomping up Moel Fammau with burning branches to bloody well enact out Druid rituals. I had half a mind to go back up there and give them a piece of my mind  but a depleted fuel gauge and a 5am start (it was about 1am as I trundled home, not an unusual occurrence in those youthful days) saved the buggers from my wrath.

    So what was going to be a somber post upon how the dark days of winter affect my state of mind and how the promise of the lengthening of days is a tonic to the system turns out to be one of many frivolous stories of my youthful escapades, who would seen that coming, not I for sure! Perhaps the next post I will not drift with the wind and get back on course, wherever that's supposedly going.

Till the next time take care and live your life well, after all tis not a practice run.

John t' Gardener

Plant favorites, I of a series…

     Now that have I finally got used to the idea that I am a professional gardener, well in as much that I earn a crust gardening, I thought that I would give an insight into the type of gardener that I am. So I think that firstly I will start off with a series of posts talking about my preferred plants.

    So the plant to have the honour of beginning this series is Symphytum grandiflorum (and yes I have to look up the long Latin namey thing) or as I know it, Creeping Comfrey.

Creeping Comfrey

    I only became aware of this plant a few years ago but it has since become a firm favourite of mine. What at first glance seems to be something extremely uninteresting and very easily overlooked Creeping Comfrey is, in my opinion, a wonderfully versatile plant that should be one of the first plants to consider for shady areas of a garden or a wildlife garden.

    It is a relatively low growing and clump forming plant that does ok in a sunny aspect but I feel that it grows far better when used as ground cover under trees and large shrubs. The most commonly seen type has pale yellow/creamy flowers which open from red flushed buds. Though for me there is a less common form with blue tinged flowers, again from red flushed buds (pictured) that I really like. Locally it flowers from about mid spring through to summer and one of the benefits of having this plant in a garden is the amount of native bees that it attracts. A large clump of Creeping Comfrey in full flower can attract bees in such numbers that you can hear the buzzing of happy pollen collectors from a fair old distance. I love taking a break from my labours and  just sitting with my flask of coffee and losing myself listening and watching the frantic comings and goings of these wonderful insects that seem to defy all rules of what should be able to fly.

    As mentioned this is a wonderful plant for shaded areas and is an excellent ground cover. The RHS description states that this plant is deciduous but I do find that it is quite common for it to retain quite a number of leaves through the winter. I do like to cut the tired foliage off in the spring just as the new, vibrant leaves are beginning to form. Leaving the tired leaves over winter may not be for the Gardner who likes their garden to be prim and proper but I feel that the left leaves provide cover for a host of invertebrates at this time of year. 

    There are of course some downsides to Creeping Comfrey as with all plants, perhaps the major one being the plant’s ability to cover large areas in ideal growing conditions if left unchecked. This may put some folk off growing it, especially in small gardens with limited space. I do find however that planted in a reasonably sized terracotta pot that they do fine. Another disadvantage, at least for me, is that they are classed as ‘non native’ and I do prefer, when able, to opt for native derived planting as I feel that native flora is better suited to native fauna having evolved together over eons. I was surprised to find that care should be taken when handling this plant as it is classed as being poisonous, though I have never suffered any ill effect from handling it. Then again there many plants that are poisonous and it is just nature evolving defences from predation. For myself the positives of this plant far outweigh the negatives, certainly our native Bees find them an excellent food source and with a little forethought they can be incorporated into many gardens.

    I know that this is not my usual style of blog post but I hope that you have enjoyed this post and any feedback would be appreciated as to whether or not I should continue this series. 

John t’ Gardener

Scribing detritus, and the need for a spell checker....

    I am truly not sure what this post is going to be about but I thought that I would give my typing fingers (both of them) some exercise and see what scribing detritus I come up with. That and the fact that I am trying to contribute on a much more frequent basis here than the one post every couple of years or so. Oh and talking about scribing detritus does anyone of my very rare readers know how to get a spell check to work on blogger because I have not a bloody clue and my spelling can be rather entertianing at times to say the least!  

    I seem to never fully get a grip on the things that trigger my depression, the triggers can be the smallest of things to something quite dramatic. I never know what will set my mindset spinning downwards in an uncontrolable descent to the dark places, sometimes a memory from the past, a seemingly trivel event in my daily routine or a combination of bad weather and/or injury that prevents me earning my pittance of a wage gardening are a few of a million and one things that can call the Black Dog back into my mind. But, I have to be thankful for the brighter lights in my life that draw me out of the dark places I so often find myself blindly wandering within. These include my incredable partner G, without whose support I know for certian that I would be long gone from this mortal coil, Bramble the aging pain in the arse spaniel that makes me smile inwardly everday and the fact that I do earn a pittance of a wage gardening which is a far cry from the life of a factory grease monkey. So yes, there are still bad times but they are slowly becoming outwieghed by the good times which is a marked improvement from my life a few years go when the good days were so very few and far between.

    Speaking of work, tis been a little full on this week after the storm that swept over the land t'other day. From felled trees to damaged fencing and flooded borders to mountians of debris to be cleared from folks gardens. Not my usual line of gardening but enjoyable all the same, the shear physicality of the work is very energising to say the least. Though I have to admit to aching in parts of my rotund body that I did not even know existed! I hit an age milestone next year and I really do need to think about reducing the heavy work load, such as slabbing, major earthworks, laying raised beds with oak sleepers etc. Since snapping my coller bone G has been on at me (in a good way) to look at ways to still provide an income but without killing myself slowly with the heavy grafting side of my work. She has a point, I have to grudgingly (now that doest not look like it spelt right at all) have to admit. But a problem that I have is my mind, it has all these wonderful ideas that I could turn my hand to, all revolving working in the Orc's workshop but trying to find the mental energy to actually clear out and organise the workshop into a functoning area always seems to elude me. It is as if my head does not want to let me make those first steps into making more changes within my life.

    Having said this though I think that I had what might be called an epithany today. I was working (yes I work Sundays as well as every other day ending in the letter Y) at a lovely client's garden today when good fortune smiled upon me in the way somebody would say "come to the darkside, we have cookies". The client in question has a daughter whom has her own share of mental issues which gives us some common ground on which to converse, with me trying to help by being positive and offering advice based upon my own experiances with depression. So today Lauren (the daughter) was showing me a Christmas wreath that she had made and was wondering if people would be interested in purchasing such things. Oh I should explain that Lauren is a talented artist but because of her 'mindset' she has no confidance in herself as regards to building a portfolio or business through her art. So, anyway we looking at this wreath and personally I think that there is definitly a market for this, er more bespoke type of decoration....

Credit Lauren Jane Williams

    Tis not the best photograph but it does give some idea of the wreath. It is made from natural materials with no wire, paints etc and I absolutely love it. Whilst we were talking about possibilities it was mentioned that what was partly stopping her was the state of her workshop/garage. Now we are back off the tangent and closer to the point, so I was asked if I could take a look at the workspace and perhaps offer some advice. I smiled inwardly at this knowing the shocking state of my own workshop but hey ho I have never been one to turn his nose up at the chance of exploring the site of possible hidden treasures. I have to admit that when the door of the workshop was raised my jaw bounced off the floor, it actually made the Orc's Workshop look like a clinical laboratry that had just had all its equipment removed and then given a deep clean. Once I got my head around the sight I managed to climb my way in and took stock. Now I am not an art expert, actually I do not understand the concept of it at all. I personally think that most art is akin to the Emporer's new clothes in that if art critics say it is wonderful than it must be so. But how the bloody hell can a banana duct taped to a wall be art and actually sell for millions of pounds? it makes absolutly no sense whats so ever to me. Give me a a good picture, preferbly of a stormy seascape and that is what I call art. Anyway back to the pit of despair (workshop), it was filled with old furniture left there for years by a relation who has resided in the Americas for the last centuary or so but the main bulk is Laurens old art projects that have been left in this dark place forgotten except to the hords of rodents that now call it home. Like I said I am not an art person to say the least but I really could not get my head around it, perthaps because so much was piled upon itself and that time and rodents had obvously had a hand in its ruination. Actually there was one piece that caught my eye, and I can only describe it as the perfect breast in size, shape and nipple ratio ahem I digress. But then something did catch my eye under all the ruination (at last I hear you wail), the merest glimpse of red metal. There, in its resting place since been driven into the garage probably over twenty years ago was a Westwood ride on lawnmower complete with all accessories. Further frantic rummaging uncovered a rotavator, petrol 20 inch cut lawnmower and a set of long reach hedgecutters with perhaps more still to uncover. I must say I nearly peed m'self with excitment. Turns out all the equipment was left there after the client's ex-husband just got up and left one day with no ryhme nor reason that they could fathom.

    So the upshot of this meandering dialogue is that I have been commissioned (sounds better than asked) to help clear and organise the workshop. This involves skipping what requires skipping, helping to sell the furniture, organising and repairing the workspace and moving the rodents to pastures new. In return I will be in possession of said gardening equipment (and hopefully the piece of art that I have now entitled 'non-grease nipple and support') which finally brings me to my own point and the fact that in the New year I shall have all this machinery to restore meaning that I shall need a workspace. Aha the penny droppeth and now you finally see where I am going with this. The Orc's Workshop must be a functioning workshop early next year and I now have the incentive to make it so. 

    With this renewed zeal to get the workshop ship shape I can then turn my thoughts to making the Orc's Workshop a place to forge profitable new ideas which in turn hopefully allow me to take the back breaking side of my gardening work out of the equation. Having said this also today I have just taken on a work commision do lower about one hundred feet of leylandi hedging from around twenty feet high to around ten feet high, oh and the hedge is about 10 to 12 feet wide, at the same time hard pruning several massive, and I mean really big Rhoddendron shrubs that must be several decades old judging by their massive limbs in the New year. Ah well I guess my poor back will just have to cope for a tad while longer.

    And with that I shall end this rambling and wish you all good health,

    'till the next time, John the Gardener

    

   

Primitive thing…

     There are somethings that just draw out the primitive caveman within me, and this is one….

Burning storm felled Larch debris today

    Between the flames of a fire and the moods of an ocean I seem to find the places where I am most lost and yet most at peace within the same span of time.

Back to work...

     Well tis been a funny last few weeks, and I don't mean funny bloody ha ha. Started off by damageing muscles in my lower back (though I don't recall ever having any muscles to be honest), anti inflammetry tablets provided by my doctor (yes I did get an appointment) managed to.... er... loosen up my bowels to such an extent I felt uncomfortable being more than five feet away from the toilet for three days! so they were swiftly binned, then we got about ten inches of snow here in the village which I know to you hardened Nordic folk is not worth mentioning but here in dear old blighty it's basically the appocalypse. And then to cap it all we got that bloody storm that put paid to any work plans last weekend with winds recorded locally at over ninty miles per hour. And finally I'm at present operating with the use of only one eye as I managed to loose one contact lense down the sink drain last week, you couldn't bloody write it! (oh I suppose I just have).

    So this week has been my first attempt at working for some time and guess what I have been doing.....

 

    Yep, not quite to return to work on light duties that I could have expected back in the days of being a grease monkey. Ah well I'll just have a soak and start again tomorrow.