During recent extensive local garden research (a detour along side streets and peering out the car window last time I went to town) I realised that most front gardens consist of half a dozen shrubs and a tree or two.
This is actually the best garden design for anyone who isn't an avid gardener, or who is an avid gardener but has kids/six dogs/two jobs to pay the mortgage/a crook back, and so doesn't have time or energy for garden beds.
A scatter of shrubs and a tree or two is also a great starter kit for a more intricate and even more lovely garden. Flower beds can temporarily circle the less dense shrubs, then be mown over or whipper-snipped back to lawn if the weeds take over. I circle shrubs and deciduous trees with bulbs of many kinds, as once their leaves die down for the year, they can be mown too.
As can hellebores, which are just beginning to come into late winter/spring hellebore glory. New varieties come in a multitude of bright shades from red to purple and yellow, in doubles and singles and spots and patterns. They are also almost unkillable once established. Plant them now; give a year of good feeding and watering, then mow the whole lot in late spring after blooming. The new leaves will emerge bright and green next winter.
Ground covers like lamium, lawn daisies, dichondra, gotu kola and erigeron can also be mown if you set the mower on high, and the plant is well established. Probably many others can be added to the list that I haven't tried.
Best of all, they can all be free.
This is the time when good gardeners are pruning. This means it is time for those who want a garden to ask for cuttings, i.e. the bits that are being pruned off.
Almost any plant will grow from a cutting, from apples to grevilleas. Some - like roses, hydrangeas, deciduous hibiscus, Federation daisies, tree dahlias, wormwood, basil, tomatoes, all salvias and buddleia - take so easily you just snip and thrust - any hard wood that snaps becomes a cutting. Plant - or push - the cutting about 30cm deep, either in a pot or soil, sand and potting mix or where you want a hedge of them to grow; prune off most of the tops and leaves; water at least twice weekly, and watch dead-looking sticks suddenly turn into a garden. ACT government-employed rose pruners and other garden workers have been known to look kindly on anyone who asks nicely if they can have a cutting or two, or even 20. Avid gardeners will probably thrust at least 10 times as many cuttings into your arms as you want to plant.
Most of my garden has been grown on the "snip, snap and bung it in" principle, but I was lucky enough to have mine begun with cuttings from an elderly expert - and woe betide me if they weren't all in when she visited again, usually carrying a sponge cake made with duck eggs, cream from Jackie the cow (I think the naming was a compliment), and raspberries, strawberries and passionfruit from her garden.
If you are a newcomer to "snip, snap and bung", or if you are trying to propagate the more difficult plants, like most natives, it's best to do it "properly". Buy hormone rooting powder and a good potting mix. Follow the directions on the rooting powder container. Encase the well-watered pot and cuttings in a transparent plastic or cellophane bag, or cover with an old window or sheet of glass - something that will keep the soil moist and hopefully any resident wallabies, snails or possums from taking a curious nibble. Keep cuttings moist - I lost all of last season's new hydrangeas in a two-week heatwave when I forgot to water them - and in dappled light, or at least away from strong sunlight.
Be patient - cuttings can appear to grow, but take at least six months to a year to establish a good enough root system to be transplanted. You can also plant them where you want them to grow, and use a stake to drape a covering over them.
This is also the time to gently dig around bulbs, divide dahlias or iris clumps, or haul out rootlets of mint, hops, yarrow and other spreaders. Smile sweetly at your plant-rich friends while holding out a basket of warm scones, last season's jam, a pair of secateurs, a trowel and some bags to hold your haul. You may not even need the trowel or secateurs.
It's seed collection time, too. Dead sunflowers, hellebores, dahlias, fruit, and even rose heps contain seeds you can plant and grow. Many need winter's cold before they'll germinate. They probably won't come true to type, but unless you have a rigidly planned colour scheme for your garden, instead of cottage type abundance, this is fun, not a problem.
I found the first generation progeny of my bright double hellebores were boring slate green single flowers, but their progeny has varied and fascinated me ever since. Our fire-engine-red dahlia is a chance seedling. Most of our fruit trees are seedlings too, which means I am stumped when asked what variety they are. The safest answer is that of the art world: "This is a Eureka-style lemon", like a painting may be "in the style of Monet" - ie not worth a few million dollars. My "in the style of" lemons, apples, avocadoes etc though are better than the originals - they are the ones that have survived here, from drought to heatwaves to the snowflakes last week.
And best of all - they were free.
This week I'm:
- Not quite dancing among the snowflakes, but wanting to, with snow dapples on one side of the house and blue sky and golden grass on the other.
- Working out summer's necessities: lots of parsley, and celery mostly for the leaves; a few zucchini; a few tomatoes; masses of silver beet; 'some' kale, the feathery kind. Melons, corn and pumpkins this year, or wait for the superb ones grown by Harrison's nearby?
- Getting the salvias hacked back so we can walk through the garden without machetes.
- Laughing triumphantly at the vast dead lengths of choko vine. That choko thought it had conquered the garden and was probably planning to invade Queanbeyan, if not New Zealand, but was vanquished by a few nights of frost. Now to keep its ambition in check this summer...
- Wishing I had remembered to ask Linda for her hydrangea prunings three weeks ago.
- Buying a white and purple orchid for a friend, in a white and purple pot, because it's hard to go wrong giving an orchid.
