Saturday 24 August 2013

Silly Seasons

'Silly Season' is how I believe journalists refer to the month of August: since nothing much happens you can write about anything, even if it is silly.  Well our 'Silly event' this year was the arrival of Tuppence, a black kitten, so perhaps even an illegal immigrant, who stowed away in our car on a trip to Blagnac airport to collect amongst others, Penny, a one year old grand-daughter, which is the explanation for the name Tuppence. He turns out to be a bit of a star, very good with Penny, easily accpted by the two dogs, less so by the resident cats, Fred and Sylvie, and generally extremely friendly. He does not as yet have much to do with gardening. But his arrival has resulted in a major gardening decision, since with the increase in feline numbers I have decided to risk the removal of much of the chickenwire used as a frontline of defence against the invading and invasive rabbits. In our seven years here the local hunt has managed to kill one rabbit, the various dogs about half a dozen, but the cats'  tally would be well into double figures, though consisting of only baby rabbits. This still leaves us with about three hundred, but I am hoping that the mere presence of the cats may at least keep the rabbits away from the flowerbeds that surround the house. As for deer about which I commented in my last blog that I thought that they were on the increase, or at least more active, so far the japanese clochettes provided by Bernard Lacrouts appear to be doing a good job. On verra.

But this blog is actually entitled 'Silly Seasons', which is a reference to the curious weather that we have experienced this year. The first six months were exceptionally wet, the last two have not been exceptionally dry, though with below average amounts of rain, but they have been very hot with the temperatures hovering around 30.c. during the day, and around 20.c. at night.  Predictably one had begun to complain about the earlier rain, despite my vow never to do so, since I spend most of time moaning about drought, but too much wet can be a killer.  Most of my life I have been a lazy planter of trees, never spending enough time creating a large hole or bothering to fill that hole with lovingly prepared soil. But my laziness has in some ways paid off. These well-prepared holes become in very wet weather small swimming pools in our clay soil and newly planted trees can literally drown in them. My advice therefore is to not spoil the trees with large holes and over rich food, but to concentrate your efforts in breaking up the bottom of the hole in an effort to create better drainage, since as most of the readers of this will know drainage is the key to better gardening.

Still on the whole our earlier rain was good news. Newly planted trees that had shown very little inclination to put on significant growth suddenly decided to make a move, and very welcome this has been.  But the last two months have seen a return to drought conditions, or rather very dry conditions since I suspect that anything well established will still be finding water.This has prompted me to think seriously about what plants will thrive in temperatures around 30.c.  There are of course books written on the subject. Beth Chatto's 'Dry Garden' come to mind, and it is time that I had another look at it. Less well-known, but for me rather more useful is Jane Taylor's 'The Milder Garden'. As the name suggests, it is not just about drought resistance, though it does have a chapter entitled 'Hot and Dry' but it does provide one with an exciting list of plants, many of which would flourish in Gascony, though I guess that the nearer you are to the Atlantic, and its winter mildness the more useful it becomes.  Anyway I am tempted in my next blog to draw up a list of sure-fire plants for a Gascon summer, but for a taster I will just mention Maclura pomifera. People I know well were given one; it has flourished exceedingly, but it is now one of the most hated plants in their garden, which suggests that there are disadavantages to it. One is certainly its very aggressive thorns. Another is the fact that it produces suckers.  Its fruits, which resemble a particulerly crinkled grapefruit are also a mixed blessing: attractive in a curious sort of way, but on a mature tree there are far too many of them. But the hotter and drier it becomes the shinier become its leaves, so that while all around them are looking stressed it is the picture of health, and for this reason it is a Gascon 'must', plus the fact that its leaves go a lovely yellow in Autumn.

Meanwhile my impression is that the Lagerstroemias have never flowered so profusely, perhaps the result of our Silly Seasons. Our earlier abundant rains may have reminded them of the monsoons, and now the heatwave. What more could an Indian Lilac ask for?