Letters Across the Pond: Sylvia's Pocket Handkerchief garden

Dear Jodi,

As you say the response to our letters has been lovely, I really should start this Dear Jodi and friends. I intend to incorporate some of the questions and comments into my letters to you. This letter will be more about my garden which is so different from your, first and foremost in size. Think pocket handkerchief!


When we were looking to buy a property the demands of the family took precedence over a garden, so I spent the first few years thinking the garden was awful and not bothering too much. But a garden of any kind and size will "get me" eventually and I would have to start digging and planting. I will try to describe the garden as it was nearly 11 years ago and as it is now. I don't have any early pictures and even now, due to the size, the pictures don't show the whole garden.

Small gardens can be just as difficult to describe as large garden, especially when they go around the property, so have at least 4 separate areas. Add in paths, borders,shrubs and trees and there are a lot more.


The thing I hated most was the open plan, no walls, fence or hedges are allowed and because we were a corner plot we had front and one side open to all the dog walker. The dogs thought our grass was an extension of the field and who can blame them? The front garden had no path to the front door, though only a few feet between pavement and steps to the front door. It was nearly all grass on a steep slope, though not large walking from top to bottom (actually side to side) I could get out of breath! Mowing was difficult, not that I mow, add in the side and back garden and taking all the clippings to the tip it was a chore. The top side wasn't much better, though it had a nice rowan tree and a boxed forsythia. The previous owner had cut all the shrubs into boxes, it took years to grow the ones I kept into a more natural shape. This side slopes steeply to the bungalow which made mowing difficult, at the end is the drive and garage.


Turning down hill was a gate to the back garden, the gate was between the garage and an wall covered in ivy. The back garden had been terraced and had a couple of small borders around the grass. One side is the bungalow with two garage walls opposite, ours and next doors. The bottom side was a hedge of Laural above a steep wall and 7ft drop to the bungalow below. This left one narrow triangle on the bottom side of the garden with access from the front only, about 3ft to 7 feet wide, just gravel and empty, with nothing between us and the drop to next door, though this is less here.

Now let me take you around the garden nearly 11 years on, show you the changes and how I have come to see all the opportunities this garden offers. During the last year we have made some major changes so there is a lot of tidying and planting to do. Starting in the triangle area at the bottom of the garden, this is now open to the back garden and has three small compost bins, a fence and gate to the front garden. Through the gate and you will see we put in a path to the front door, not that you as a friend will ever use the front door! Below the path is the part of the garden that has changed the least, though we have added a wisteria on the house wall, see all those flower buds? Between us and the road is a Robinia tree and some shrubs giving some privacy. Over the path a river of grass invites us up the hill and around the corner, but first note the two borders on either side. The big border by the road is looking ragged now and needs to be re developed, it is manly perennials and sunny. The bed along the bungalow wall has awful very stony soil, I dug a lot of builders rubbish out of here. Despite the awful ground this bed seems to grow anything, it is warm and sheltered. I do hope that agapanthus will recover, it has been in a few years and this is the first year that it has lost its leaves.

Around the corner following the grass. Oh! I am not sure I want to show this to you, the ground is very steep so last year we put in a woodchip path and it looks very stark. I wanted a curved path but due to the length and width of the garden it really needed to be straight. Still it does terrace the slope a bit. Yes, that is a big compost bin but one day it will blend in more and I needed it. This area is mainly shaded by the bungalow, so I can grow woodland plants here, the rowan and conifer trees give it that feel. The primroses do look lonely on the bank by the path but they will have company soon, they remind me of all the hedgerows around here that are full of primroses now. The borders we have put in right around pavement edge do discourage the dogs, they rarely come in now. I think the owners have got better at keeping them off my plants. We do have a neighbour whose house looks out this way and he has been known to shout at anyone letting their dogs foul the garden!



Wheres the ivy wall? Well it nearly fell down. So my son helped me take it down, leaving 2 feet and he put in this lovely fence. Yes, it is in a different position, further into the side, giving me more back garden. Come through the gate, see the bit between the fence and the wall, this is going to be a vegetable bed. Do you like my new raised bed, its 9 feet by 3 feet and I must get some seed in very soon. Do you like my new path to the back door, all this area used to be grass but we put the gravel down last year. I mainly use this area for pots, though I do have 3 fruit bushes in front the low wall. I over winter and grow on plants in those two small plant houses, the ground is lower there so they are protected all around by walls.


One more piece to show you, mind the steps. This area is going to be nearly all garden beds, when I finish digging and planting, with gravel paths to move around and give the area some structure. That ? willow in its circle does dominate but it is lovely to look down on from the living room window and the birds like it. Do you see that my snowdrops under the willow are finished? I did enjoy the picture of your first snowdrop - the first one is so special. This garden is a mixture of sun and shady areas, with everything at the bottom being more moist so I can grow a variety of plants here. Did you notice my new fence, taking the hedge out (which was difficult to cut the other side due to the drop) has given me more garden as well as access to the compost bins on the side.


I hope you have enjoyed your tour, I hope you come to know this garden better especially the plants that I grow. I do like this garden now, it offers so many different planting environments, so many opportunities and challenges. I dream of a larger garden, but I don't manage to keep this one weeded and cared for all year, so for now I am happy here and it does have lovely views over the hills and cliffs.
All the pictures I took this weekend (5 April) but it was sunny and I had problems due to the shadows. We have had a long spell of sunny, dry weather but it is due to break today with some heavy rain. The garden is very dry so I will be glad of the rain but hope that at least some of the Easter weekend I will be able to get into the garden.

Best wishes Sylvia

Mother Nature Throws a Wet Tantrum

Never underestimate the determination of a spring-flowering bulb to get itself back on schedule. Yesterday afternoon, I walked around the yard (where I could get through and not end up with too-wet feet) and discovered the lower garden was relinquishing its snowdrifts quite nicely. In the morning when Longsuffering Spouse went out to do chores, there was snow all over this bed. By 2 pm, the snow-waves had receded and these little fellows were making their presence known. 

Snowdrops are nothing if not determined. I can almost hear them talking. "Okay, the snow is leaving. All together now, push..."

"...and...OPEN!"

These little fellows had to come through ice, but they were coming and that was that. 

Now, it was lovely mild yesterday and then it started to rain last night. And it rained. And rained and rained and threw it down. Today, we went up to Cumberland county to the annual bull sale at the Maritime Beef Testing Station. No, I wasn't buying a bull or shooting the bull...I have enough of that to deal with, what with the current government of doughheads in this province. I was on assignment. It was interesting, but only to those of us who happen to be interested in agriculture and where our food comes from. I'll save that for another day. 

I slept most of the way up, and we went the highway anyway. We decided to come back via the back road in Hants county, one we know very well. We'd heard about some flooded conditions. Well, how bad could it be? 

Um...quite bad, actually. This particular washout was going to be fixed before nightfall, but it had a mate on the opposite side of the road. Can you say, "crumbling infrastructure", you idiotic Fiddling Fool premier? (I don't like OR respect 'Rodney, can you tell?)

Lovely drive by the seashore. Only thing was, this was down in Hants county, probably about 15 minutes from where Nancy Bond lives; and this is supposed to be a meadow with a small pond and brook. Today, well...more like a lake! I don't know that the Peepers will be out here today, not just yet. 

On the opposite side of the road, more flooding. No barn is an island, except when the waters come along. Some of these areas are off tidal rivers that spill into the Minas Basin of the upper Bay of Fundy, so when the tide is high, the water is...way up! 

Another spot that is regularly a field with a brook...not a lake with trees sticking out of it. Hubby was driving, I was shooting through the windows of the car because really...we didn't dare pull to the side of the road, after having seen the earlier crater. 


Coming down the main highway near Hantsport, we saw the RCMP (our provincial highway constabulary, as well as that serving many communities) had blocked off the first exit into that town, which lays alongside the very tidal Avon River AND the Halfway river. This is all new highway infrastructure...and the whole area around the exit/access roads is underwater. Probably part of the road too, down in the flood plain area. We couldn't tell, but we doubled back at Bishopville and looped around for another look. 

This is the road leading into town, the other end of that highway pic above. All that water isn't supposed to be there--on either side of the road. But it looks like the Halfway has a jam somewhere, and the water couldn't get back out to the Avon and the Basin. The tide was going out, so I hope this all lets go before the tide comes back in again...


We carried on homeward, and arrived before dark. Yesterday despite the snow in that lower garden where the snowdrops were poking through, Hamamelis 'Diane' had decided she was clear enough of snow to explode into bloom. Today, she looked even happier.  

And the tenacity of the snowdrops paid off, as the last of the snow had melted off and they all started popping up with great enthusiasm. Yea for snowdrops, always. The late, great garden and cat lover Beverley Nichols wrote in one of his books that snowdrops were best observed laying flat on the ground looking up at them. Mine are a little too tiny yet for anyone but an elf to be able to look up into, and it's far too boggy. But...spring is waking in earnest. 

My proof? Oh, looky here, Frances! 'Ivory Prince' Hellebore has made it through winter and all that snow again. Yippee! Now, I'll drag the Christmas tree off the back deck (where it has been stuck since New Year's Day due to a winter's worth of snow.I'll chop it into pieces and put it around the hellebore to protect him from whatever April is planning next. 

Because yes, although it's spring, it's spring in Nova Scotia. And the only thing predictable is that this is an unpredictable season. 

Whispers of Spring in Pine Grove

A few housekeeping observations, if I may; I've been unable to do much blogreading or commenting this week because the place I've been staying at night has not-very-speedy internet. Better than dialup, but not much. So I'll play catchup this weekend. Also, these photos are from my iPhone, since I didn't have my real camera with me yesterday. Hence they couldn't be focused or corrected for exposure, for obvious reasons. My iPhone is awesome as phone, iPod, mail client, webbrowser, etc. As camera...not so much. 

I smelled it yesterday when I came out of the place where I stay while on my project in Liverpool. A warmer hint on the air, a sweetness in the salt tang of the Atlantic at my feet. Come lunch time, even though wearing the wrong shoes for the trip, I jumped in the car and went to Pine Grove.

Pine Grove is this exquisite jewel of a pocket wilderness in Milton, just outside of Liverpool. It's owned and maintained by BowaterMersey, a timber and paper company located in Brooklyn and a large employer in Queens and Lunenburg counties. They have four pocket wildernesses, some quite large, in southwestern Nova Scotia. Pine Grove is one of my favourite places to go, with its mature pine forest, quiet trails, and waterways. 

There's still a bit of snow in the more shaded parts of the forest grove, but most of it is long gone, as it is from most of the south shore. 

There's still ice in the pond, but it's disappearing quickly; another few days of mild, SPRINGLIKE weather should take it away completely. The ducks swimming in the water, and walking on the ice, didn't seem too concerned by any of it, or by my presence. 

Can you see the ducks, at the open end of the ice? (IPhone camera also has no zoom capabilities. It is what it is. )

In less than a month, that ridge at the far end of the waterway will be ablaze with colour, as the PJM and Ramapo rhododendrons and azaleas burst into bloom. Liverpool and Queens county are about a zone warmer than the Fundy hill where I live, so they're a few weeks ahead of me. Which is rather wonderful, because I'll get a dose of spring on days that I'm here, and it'll help me cope with the toying-with-our-affections that is April in Scotts Bay. 

There's this wonderful grove of ornamentals planted by Captain Dick Steele of Bayport Plant Farm, including a host of magnolias and some rather choice evergreens. The magnolias will begin blooming in about six weeks, I'm guessing. We'll see how far off I am. 

Before I even got up the little knoll into this grove, I could smell this hamamelis on the air. And I have to tell you, the joy that suffused my heart was amazing. You'd have sworn I won the lottery, I was so happy. 

I could have happily stayed here for the afternoon, roaming around the paths, sitting in contemplation of buds and catkins and birdsong. But duty called and I tore myself away and headed back to my wordsmithing. 

But I'll be back to Pine Grove on many days over the coming weeks, because this is a piece of pastoral tranquility that everyone should share. Next time, I'll bring my real camera, I promise. Likewise, I promise to catch up with some of you over the next few days. 

Scientists Announce Breakthrough with Blue Poppies

I was intially greatly disheartened to read in the latest issue of Green Thumbs and Green Hearts: The Magazine of Gardener Envy that botanists and geneticists have finally made a breakthrough in developing an easy-grow Blue Poppy. Seems these wise guys have managed to clone a Meconopsis that doesn't rot, throw hissy fits if the weather and soil and humidity and moisture levels aren't exactly to its liking, and that spreads quickly and blooms like gangbusters.


I say initially disheartened because after all, I'm stumped by tomatoes and hollyhocks, but blue poppies? These, I can grow, thanks to my cranky Fundy climate. What can be my claim to gardening competency if these lovely but moody plants become as easy to grow as, say, goutweed? 

Well, it seems that there's one small flaw they haven't worked out yet. The newfangled ones grow well, and get lots of flowerbuds. But they only bloom at the dark of night, and as soon as sunlight hits them, they begin to change colour. First they turn purple...

And then all too quickly, they change completely to look like another genus and species, the lovely but common as dandelions corn poppy. 

Whew. Guess I don't have to give up my bragging rights just yet. At least, not til you check out the date of this post, of course....

Letters Across the Pond: Of Sandals and Snowdrops

Dear Sylvia: What do snowdrops and sandals possibly have in common? I'll tell you in a little bit. First, let me say again how glad I am that you suggested this correspondence. Judging by the response we have been getting to your first note, others are very glad too. 


Yes, that was my sandal-clad foot, stepping cautiously across some melting 'glacier' in our yard. We live in Scotts Bay, Kings County, which is technically part of the Annapolis Valley. However, a valley is formed between several hills or mountains, and ours is no exception; the Valley, the agricultural heartland of Nova Scotia, runs like a plough furrow between the North and South Mountains. The North Mountain runs like a dinosaur's backbone along the western coastline of Nova Scotia from just above Digby to its terminus at Blomidon/Scotts Bay. If you look at a map of my province, about half-way up the western coastline, you'll see a little comma of land curling out into the waters of the upper Bay of Fundy, home to the world's highest tides. Inside that bowl is Scotts Bay; the curve of the comma is Cape Blomidon (picture above), where sleeps the mighty M'kmaq god Glooscap (Kluskap).


Being on the Fundy, we're subject to fog and somewhat moderating temperatures, as with any marine climate. IN the summer, it's a blessing sometimes; the Valley may be sweltering with temperatures in the high 20s and low 30s C (80s-90s F) but we are often much cooler, if the fog is in. In the winter, we often get much more snow than other parts of the province, because we get so many 'flurries where winds blow on shore; we catch them from all directions, being technically an isthmus surrounded by water on three 'sides', and being on a hill to boot. My garden can be as much as three weeks behind those in the Valley. But there are also milder AND colder parts in the province. Our province is darn near an island, connected to the rest of the continent only by the Isthmus of Chignecto and the tidal dykelands which joins us to the neighbouring province of New Brunswick. A few years of global warming and we may well be an island too.  

TS Eliot called April the cruelest month, but for us that period runs from mid March until mid May, when spring usually decides to stay with us in earnest. Until that time, she flirts with gardeners, farmers and others. Today, the temperature has hit an astonishing 16 degrees C (about 62 degrees F) and I had been wandering around inside in my sandals. Longsuffering spouse cajoled me into coming outside and walking around the edge of the yard, but I had to walk on snow in a few places. Somehow, that didn't bother me a bit. 

You can probably see that we get a lot of wind; some spots in our acreage are showing bare ground, while in other places the snow is still several feet deep, the result of having been sculpted into huge drifts five feet deep and more. 

Our land is composed of clay, rock, and springs, all of which conspire together to produce some truly spectacular frost heaving. Here's Longsuffering Spouse inspecting the lawn chairs he built a few years ago. He decided to rope them all together and put them on our little back deck way at the back of the yard, near the pasture. They all stayed put, but the deck looks like it's going to launch into the Bay at any time. It'll flatten out as the frost in the ground subsides and things settle down. 


The past two months have been annoying for my Morgan horse, LeggoMyEggo. He has had to stay indoors when it's been icy, and it's been icy a LOT. He's very happy to be outside with his idiotdonkey, JennyManyLumps, and he was hoping I'd come out into the pasture and play Fierce Wild Horse tag with him. Not in sandals, thank you buddy. 

We are a long way from celebrating too many blossoms, although in the Valley there are plenty of crocus in bloom where snows have receded. Generally those spots are south-facing yards, of course. However, tippytoeing around the back yard, I did discover a few valiant shoots coming up in one garden that catches a lot of west light. 

And out front, in the garden with the best drainage, this tiny, valiant Galanthus greeted me. Most of the snowdrops are still buried under two feet and more of snow in the lower front garden, but I've been adding more snowdrops every fall, and this bed is now snow-free. 

You can imagine my joy at finding this tiny fellow, barely an inch tall. He was worth the snow in my shoes and the cold feet. And the winter. And the winter yet to come, because it is only late March. But spring blooms in my heart, and I know we'll make it through. 

cheers, jodi

PS (Tuesday morning, 31 March.) March is going out-like-a-Tasmanian-Devil, with a snowstorm/rainstorm/icestorm/yuckstorm swatting most of the province for the past two days. It's never boring, our weather!

Whoops, I done Gone 'n Dunnit....

Sunlight is such a balm to a winter-weary soul, isn't it? Couple it with springlike temperatures, and you can hear the collective sigh of relief from Maritimers who really needed a wee bit of respite from it all. And sunlight looks so lovely glinting off petals and catching the dustings of pollen, too. Hmmm. Where might this be?  

If you squint just SO, you can pretend that this flowerhead of lavender is outdoors, and not in my office with a medley of rhododendron leaves outdoors making a nice living mosaic in the background.

I swear the darling miniature daffodils are lasting splendidly because my office tends to be quite cool except when the sun is shining through the windows. They're such dear, happy, flowers, and their scent says spring, but not cloyingly so the way some think that other narcissus and hyacinths are. (I love them all, but I do understand that some fragrances can be a bit...overwhelming. 

There have been bunches and bunches of standard yellow daffodils for sale as cut flowers in the past week or two, but I prefer to buy the bulbs, let them grow and flower. I'll plant these outside and if they grow, fine, if not, they can compost. They've already given me huge delight for the few dollars I paid for them. 

The day of the snowstorm, when I went to town muttering and sputtering, this handsome and good-sized succulent ghost plant (Graptopetalum, but not sure of the species: paraguanense, probably) caught my eye and climbed into my cart before I could talk myself out of it. A kalanchoe followed suit, but this plant is just such a glorious crassula, I had to show it to you. It was a rescue mission, after all: it was getting overwatered and under-sunned, and now it's recuperating with the rest of my succulent obsessions. 

Today, I suggested to my dear longsuffering spouse that we go for a drive. I bribed him with brunch in Berwick (at the Union Street Cafe) but told him I wanted to go to a nursery and get this specific plant that y'all talked me into. 

Yup. One of the clivias came home with me. A small one, not nearly as expensive, and flowering nicely. Your advice, wisdom and good sense convinced me that I'd do just fine with it. It's in my office now, catching a little sunlight, and smiling. 

Well, we're both smiling.