Decay and the New

Everything decays.  Everything.  I think the scientists and philosophers call it entropy.  That's why it takes so much energy to keep it all going.  Gosh - a bit deep.  Anyway today decided to use my energy on two things.  (Always best else would get overwhelmed with all the things to do).  Spent a good half hour on taking hardwood rose cuttings and then brushing up leaves to use for leafmould next year on the fruit bushes.

Brother Cadfael

I have to admit it was Monty Don that reminded me of how to do them.  Back in the day it would be a garden centre visit but those are past.  No reason why I can't grow my own roses and I have two I'm particularly fond of.  Ballerina is a prolific shrub rose - you often see it at the roadside as it's as tough as boots but very pretty.  Its only downside is it doesn't have much perfume.  Second one has perfume in spades and it can grow pretty tall - it's a cultivar from the fabulous Brother Cadfael from David Austen. I have it peeping through in between a large conifer and a laurel and it is about 8ft tall.  (If you give them something to climb up they will, even though their height is usually described as much less).

Any way as my mate Monty will tell you (I lie, never met him), you just find a large shoot, preferably one that hasn't flowered and you cut it into bits: bottom bit below a bud and the top bit above.  Top bit has to be slanted and the bottom straight so you know the difference and the top doesn't rot off.   He puts it in grit in a small trough in a nursery bed. I just stick it in spare ground in what is known as the sink or swim method.  Potentially I've got 6 roses to plant next October. 

The next job...collecting leaves.  Not all of them because of the hoggies and creatures that want to make homes in them under benches etc., but enough for about 3 bags.  Bit early yet as still waiting for a good leaf fall but when it happens out will come a few sacks and ventilated bin bags. Will water the leaves then tie up for a year. Hopefully this will stop me having to buy barkchips to go under the fruit. 

Locked up the garage after the half hour and couldn't resist taking this picture.  It felt like I was walking under an arch of lollipops.  My apple tree has been identified by my friend and apple fiend Ronnie as Bell de Boskhoop.  It was planted as a Spartan (like them sweet and crisp).  Instead it turned into this giant with canonball apples that are a tad tart for my pallette.  Still they make fab apple sauce when unripe and I'm learning to live with it.  The French, apparently, consider it a delicacy... and these lollipops look great.

Recommended Reading from the Webstore
Grow Your Own Winter Food by Linda Gray
The Garden Organic Guide to Making Compost by Pauline Pears