The Importance of a Garden

Knitting, apparently, is one of the less wise occupations to follow when you have a bit of a crooked back. The osteopath wags a finger and reiterates " no more than 20 minutes sitting at a time!". In practice it depends on what's being knitted ( I find). Hand knitting isn't so bad - a good seat that supports one's position, and concentrating on relaxing, rather than tensing every muscle in order to get the job done - and an hour can pass quite happily. Knitting at the machine is a different kettle of fish. It rather depends on the item. Small things, like mittens, aren't too bad, but get a wider piece on there and the trouble starts. You'd think it would be good exercise - all that side to side, waist whittling movement. But no...even the 20 minutes allowed seems too long. And that's where my garden comes in.

The garden is up a flight of steps, curving among ferns, primrose and London Pride, shaded by a sycamore tree. So that's the first bit of exercise, the first change of movement. Then a short slope continuing upwards, past the mill pond and through an old gateway. And into the garden proper. A brisk walk around soon puts things in order - but then......what a time waster! How hard to get back to the machine when William Lobb beckons with seductive shades of magenta and lilac and grey?



And Cornelia and Penelope vie for attention with their distinctive perfumes? And is that little day lily open yet? And you can't help but look into the huge poppy that has just unfolded, with still crinkled skirts round the frills of it's centre.




There's been some rain - poor Smarty, drooping in the damp like little hankies hung out to dry, hiding amongst the blue campanulas. But what a sweet scent, filling the air.



And then there's the beans to check - have they been safe from the slugs? - and the necessary Japanese Knotweed patrol. Our current approach is to not let it have any leaves, but it takes diligence! The slugs seem to like to graze on it, an unexpected observation, and it means we have to have a love/hate relationship with them, forgiving the ravaging of some more favoured plants.




Where was I? Oh - the knitting. See what a distraction the garden is??