I decided early Saturday morning I had to buy two more blueberry plants. They were selling for $20 bucks each at Mitre 10. So expensive! They were big ones too.
Well, the Warehouse is my friend, because I went there and they were selling them on the clearance stand for $6 each. Not only that, they had six packs of dietes - wild iris, or African iris, for $1, lisianthus for $1, and cyclamen for 20 cents. So you can guess what I did.
I even bought a bag of mulch for $10, and it all came to just $23.60. Bargain!
I planted them all today, so now my boggy patch is now full of plants. Hooray!
I wire fenced them so the chickens wouldn't dig them up, clearing up my daisies, planted two onions which were shooting, tidied my lilies, and pulled out the cherry tomato. I placed the tyres on top of each other, ready to put potatoes in, which some seem to be sprouting - the jersey bennes of two seasons ago.
So..that was my day.
Of course, mum saw. But, what's she going to do? Pull the plants out? I didn't buy any roses. Besides, my green manure wasn't a wild success in the boggy patch. I did think though, if it was going to be permanently boggy, to put venus fly traps there. I would have to get them from the little shop of horrors.
I'm going to sit down to watch the rest of Audrey Hepburn presenting Gardens of the World. Or maybe read Xanthe White's book Natural Garden Design. I thought what kind of gardener I am...if you could categorise me. I don't really fit into the self-sufficency class. They're all we wannabe urban farmers. I don't have the muscle for that. I like things beautiful. I do like things ornamental, but I'm not a rose gardener - a rosarian, they call it. I'm not a landscape architect. Those people are all lawns, pavers and low-maintainence designer plants. I'm not really a collector, like those bromeliad mad people. Or a herbalist, although I like herbs. I think maybe I'm a secret gardener.
