Birds - The Gardener's Mortal Enemies?

When Mr Shoestring had all that trouble with birds attacking the side mirrors on his car and leaving nasty deposits all over it, I tried to be sympathetic but in reality I was very indulgent to the birds.  After all I thought, they are the friends of the gardener and so enjoyable to watch as they go about their business.  Now I am not so sure.  Having spent all that time and effort on raising my own seedlings, nurturing and watering, transplanting and cosseting through the baby stages of their lives, I was horrified to discover that they had been ripped from the earth by the bird population.  At first I was inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt and tried to convince myself that it might have been the work of the cats.  However having made a serious study of the situation (not to mention replanting my precious seedlings several times in the space of an hour), I have to admit that it is the birds who are responsible for the carnage and destruction.  When I planted out the commelina seedlings I was hoping that they would not become an invasive menace as predicted by some garden commentators.  Now I shall just be thankful to see any of them reach maturity and flower so that I can witness the blossoms.  All that talk about birds being helpful in the garden is just a load of old rope and malarkey, they don’t seem to eat any slugs or snails, only the worms I am trying to encourage.  And as for the mess they can make of a flower bed in a short space of time, it has to be seen to be believed.  Earth, compost and seedlings randomly strewn all over the place, far and wide!  The last straw is when they come close by as you are feverishly trying to replant seedlings before it is too late.  They watch you with their horrid beady eyes in a very knowing fashion, as if to say, “Yes that’s right, you replant them – I shall be back again as soon as your back is turned and pull them out of the earth, just you wait.”  The honeymoon is over, drastic measures are called for.  Maybe some kind of frame over the soil, so that they can’t get their nasty pointy beaks close enough to do any damage.

We have a long weekend coming up and my avian adversaries will be surprised to find their peaceful existence disturbed by Mr Shoestring with his concrete mixer and me with my arsenal of bird scaring devices.  Let battle commence!

The Comfort Of Favourite Tools

This weekend while gardening I fell to thinking about the affection we develop for all the little devices we use every day, and the odd way in which we come to develop our favourites.  (Don’t you find gardening is a wonderful opportunity for contemplation, some extremely important concepts and ideas must have been developed during gardening sessions, I feel convinced of it.)  Now, Mr Shoestring is a great believer in having the right tool for a job.  (I suspect this is partly because he has a fondness for all things mechanical, electrical and gadget-y, hence the desire to buy water blasters, line trimmers, flame throwers which kill weeds, and other works of the devil which are not strictly necessary in a house the size of a dolls’ house with a garden resembling a pocket handkerchief, but I could be wrong; it has been known.) 

Getting back to the matter of favourite tools, this is my favourite trowel.  

It is starting to wear thin around the edges, the paint has come off and still I seek it out whenever I feel a gardening session coming on.  You can probably deduce that it was never a particularly expensive trowel and I suspect it may have been purchased from a $2 shop.  However, I will eschew all other trowels in favour of this one.  The weight, the length and shape of the blade all seem perfect to me.  Because Mr Shoestring is so keen on good design and the correct tool for the job he has often pointed out to me fiendishly expensive stainless steel trowels and suggested purchasing one.  (Though he would not stoop so low as to give me one as a Christmas or birthday present, he values his life too much.)  But I just know everything about my own Precious is perfect for the task at hand.  It will be a very sad day when we are finally parted, even now if it is mislaid in the garden (which happens several times every weekend) I feel slightly anxious and can’t rest until we are united.  Perhaps the handle should be painted a neon hue but I suspect even that wouldn’t stop the periodic separations.  This is just one of the prices we must pay for True Trowel Love. 

Talking to others you find the same story everywhere.  The Dancing Queen tells of the gravy spoon which has become something of an heirloom in her family.  It is worn away on one side from decades (probably almost a century now) of stirring gravy in the pan, and I suspect part of the charm of the venerable spoon is the fact that it brings to mind all the memorable family parties and meals from the past when the spoon was pressed into service.   

As for stitching tools, when quilting I will develop a fondness for a particular needle and even if it becomes bent I accommodate its odd ways and seek it out for every quilting session, until it is lost or broken.  Then what an unhappy time ensues as the search commences for a replacement – all too long, short, thick, thin or just plain wrong!  Then there are the favourite thimbles, quick-unpicks and especially scissors which we feel we must have on hand.  Where would we be without them all? 

The Fountain - One Day It Will Be A Real Thing

Mr Shoestring toiled away creating his new water feature this weekend.  First of all he enlisted the help of some strong young men who happened to be across the road to help him stand the water tank on its side, then he rolled into the back garden.  Then the fun really started.  The skillsaw was pressed into service (its motor burnt out eventually and another one had to be purchased), the merciless sun beat down and the concrete dust swirled around all over the place.  But Mr Shoestring was blithely unconcerned and blissfully happy with progress, which is the main thing.  After all, he is the one who can picture in his head what the end result will be.  He is the work in progress.

Last weekend the concrete base was created

After cutting the concrete tank in half it is placed in position and wooden framing is made which will  bring the semicircle forward from the wall and make the pond longer.  (You can see graffiti left by taggers on the left hand side of the concrete.)

The left over half will make a cover above the back part of the pool - in the photo above the position is marked out with plywood

Mr Shoestring is very pleased with progress and looking forward to the concrete pour, and I have to say I admire the way he persevered in the scorching sun this weekend.  He is even making predictions regarding fish, water lilies, and other aquatic plants.  This has to be a good sign, it means he is confident of eventual success.  

I on the other hand retired to my sewing room and created a new dress for art deco weekend.  Upon completion of the garment though, it was horrifying to observe that a new layer of adipose tissue seemed to have encased my entire body and the end result was not at all what I had hoped.  I had been planning to create another dress using the same pattern, but came to the painful conclusion that had I gone ahead with this plan (using black velvet fabric), I would have resembled nothing so much as a very well fed sealion, sleek and shiny and in prime sealion condition.  Eventually I sighed a sad sigh, flung aside the fabric and turned my attention to the headdresses instead.  (Surely my head would not have become similarly corpulent?)  I have to say the end result of the headdress session is much more satisfying.  Here is Esme, kindly modelling for me

If I can still still squeeze myself into my black and silver ball dress, this should look very effective.

This might do the trick when teamed with velvet rose bedecked evening coat.  (Also body will be concealed by evening coat, excellent.)

After these endeavours there was still time to stitch away on the cantaloupe canvas which was unearthed during sewing room renovations.  It seemed there was still a lot of work to be done to complete it, but lo and behold it was finished this weekend.  This has to be a record, finishing two canvases in two weekends.  To be honest though, this cantaloupe has been a work in progress for a very long time and it is only finished now because of the resolution to finish projects and use up all those donated wools.  

To be transformed into a cushion for the gypsy room, using an old green velvet curtain as backing fabric. 

Now that this project is off its frame it is permissible to commence the next one, excellent.  

This week at a picnic we had one of those nostalgic feasts which takes you back to past times.  We had a delicious pan bagna, something we haven't enjoyed for ages.  It is ideal food for summer picnics, because you can make it ahead of time and take it along to your favoured al fresco spot and the juices will have been absorbing and making it all the more delicious while you are travelling.  Heartily recommended, give it a try if you haven't already experienced its delights!