Winter warmth

It's winter. The entire garden (not just the north slopes) are covered with a crackly layer of frost every morning, the bird bath has a layer of ice on it, and the chickens have morphed into little plant-destroying terrors. But here is the surprisingly warm round up of what's happening:
1. Strawberry! The first fruit on our alpine strawberries. Hopefully, this spring will bring many more.

2. Cotoneaster. This is not in my garden. This is along a path the dogs and I walk often. I have tried taking cuttings indoors and outdoors, in winter and the monsoon, hardwood and softwood, and failed each time. This winter, I plan to sneak down and take a plant. A crime, I know. But look at it!

3. Tilling. The winter is the time when I resist local ecological knowledge. The thing to do here is have nicely tilled beds around fruit trees and in the kitchen garden. So every year, G hires minions to dig up the terraces. To me, it is a waste of topsoil and microorganisms to expose the soil to the frost. And so, after they are done tilling, I go around the garden like an evil gnome undoing all their stellar work and dumping leaves and sticks (to keep the leaves from blowing away) around the plants. Why do I not use compost instead? One, I do not have that much compost and two, the chickens will eat it all.

4. Wildlife refuge. I do not cut back my salvia and chrysanthemums all winter. They do look a mess, but I am rewarded when I walk out in the mornings and see the little thrushes that roost there. So the mess stays.

5. On the other end of the scale, this bare and sad dug up patch will be a new garden soon. It is in the square courtyard near Mian's bakery where the Kiwi trellis is. And I want a yellow and white garden here. The area is very shady and so the rose will be happier moved. There I will plant ferns and the lovely Hedychium spicatum which grows wild here. But first comes the adding compost and the mulching.

 6. Mullein: My seed scattering experiments failed this summer. (Or maybe they didn't. Maybe I just need to wait till spring). But now I am eager to try taking root cuttings. Gardener's World, to which I have become a trifle addicted during these long winter evenings, assures me that nothing could be easier. Well, let's see.

As always, Six-on-Saturday is hosted by the very talented Propagator. Do head on over to his blog and check out the other gardens!
 

A mixed bag on Saturday

Winter is supposed to be a time of rest. Instead, Mian and I find ourselves Red-Queening our way through the days, scrambling to not fall too far behind. We were travelling for the last two weeks and returned to find the persimmons clamouring for attention.And the 50Kg of Malta we had ordered arrived.  So I am now back to the relentless peeling, pulping, boiling, bottling that means winter to me.
But here is what is going on in my garden:
1. Veggies: Miraculously, we are still eating quite a bit from our garden. True, radishes seem to make up a rather large part of our diet, but did you see anything as simultaneously summery and christmassy as these tomatoes?

2. Raat Rani: Or the night-flowering jasmine. I tried and killed two plants before this one survived in a frost-protected spot. The first blossom is out, and I am in love.

3. Dianthus 'sooty': The jasmine is a surprise, the dianthus is an old reliable. It never has too many flowers, but always manages to produce a scent-filled jewel or two throughout the winter

4. Aphids: Otherwise known as the bane of my existence. I presently have them on my strawberries and my star jasmine. I spray with a mixture of soap water and neem oil, but it is another Red Queen struggle. Does anyone have any other suggestions?

5. Decisions: Here is the view from our patio where we spend most of our afternoons. I am undecided what to do about the suckers around the persimmon. One option is to remove them, of course. Then I get an open view (but lose privacy) and the tree looks pretty. The other is to just thin them out to maybe a half dozen stems and then in a few years remove the tree so that I get a multi-stemmed short persimmon tree which will be easy to harvest. What do you think? And please excuse the poor beheaded plum on the left- that was before my time, and I don't have the heart to take it out entirely

6. Dianthus Imperialis: This is the fortnight of it's glory. And what glory it is! My oldest bunch is now five years old, and for the last three years, I have been planting a stem or two every year. All for this joy.

Please do go on over to The Propagator's blog to visit other Six-on-Saturdayers!

Romantic stuff

Last month, Mian and I celebrated our anniversary. Well, when I say 'celebrate', I am not being very accurate. I was 2000 kilometers away from him that day. Also the weeks preceding and after. My family was horrified. Mian and I were sad, but determined to make the most of it. 'We celebrate every moment we are together', said I to those who asked, ' a particular day is not that important.'
That  was only the partial truth. All days are special, some are more special than others. And to prove it, Mian sent me a photo of the gift he had been  working on for me.Here it is then, the first of my six on Saturday.
1. A pool. I have wanted one for as long as I can remember. And now here it is. Slowly, I will add a bog area and plantings, I will invite wildlife but make sure the dogs still have a clear space to wallow, there will be stools for Mian and I to perch on. But it could not be any more perfect.

2.  Nurture. Mian loves a garden, but he is not a lover of the process of gardening. And so the daily fussing over plants is my job and my joy. But he knows how much the plants mean to me. This time, when I had to be away from home at this always-difficult time where winter and spring war with each other,  he took on the responsibility of cossetting my seedlings.I had only requested that he water and cover them. He has been doing that and more..moving them into the sun, out of the wind, indoors, outdoors,and all over. And this is what  they look like now:

I have the best husband on this or any other planet.

3. Snow. I missed the only snow day of the year.Unless  February is very wet, we face a long and  hard spring and summer. No winter precipitation means increased disease, no soil moisture, no spring recharge, and increased forest fires.

4.  To  prove what a warm and dry winter this has been, everything in my garden  is coming up early. The winter jasmine usually flowers in mid-feb. But here it is now. Beautiful, yes.But also worrying.

5.Every year, I am taught the lesson of being  patient when it comes to declaring that spring is here. And every year, I do not learn it. I could not wait and transplanted some seedlings and divided some perennials. And now frost is predicted.

6. The photo is not very good because it  was taken with  my phone. But can you see a strange outgrowth  near the chick's neck? That's not an outgrowth. The chick was attacked (by something strong enough to  make the wound, and daft enough to let it escape.We strongly suspect the pup was trying to play with it) and now has a flap of skin and feathers. Mian  nursed the chick till it recovered,but both he and I are nervous about cutting the flap off. But 'tis one of those  things that must be done, and done quickly..

And that's it for this week! Will my transplants survive for the next Six-on-Saturday? Will the chick? Oh the drama that is a garden.

As always, please do go on to The Propagator's blog. He hosts Six on Saturday, and you will find an ever-growing list of interesting gardeners and their updates.

End-of-winter work

Every day that passes now tells me that spring is coming. The days are longer, the first winter jasmine is out. And so we gleefully launch into tasks that boldly believe the freeze is over. Here are six end-of-winter happenings in my garden. For more, head on over to The Propagator's blog and his Six-on-Saturday posts!

1. Planting:
Remember the desolate fenced area I had shown earlier? I have now decided that it will be a gold and white seating area.There is already forsythia and azalea, but this year I will add hypericum and berberis, narcissus and lycoris. In the meantime for a quick (non gold and white) fix I have transplanted my phlox. The twigs are to protect from chickens, the pine needles are to protect from frost and sun.

 2. Acorn collection: CHIRAG, that works on all things environmental in the area, has started collecting acorns for the spring sowing. The forests have been decimated by over-exploitation and increased occurrence of forest fires. Regular sowing will help conserve these for the future. Our house has become the centre for seed collection in the neighbourhood. Children have their winter holidays now and are encouraged to collect acorns and bring them over. They get Rs.12/kg, which is a good sum for a bit of pocket money.

3. Bordeaux time: Buds are sprouting on the fruit trees and roses. Which means it is that time of year when I use the household utensils to process chemicals. We make a bordeaux mixture every year to spray the peaches and roses with. One day of spraying, and Peach Curl and Black Spot are held at bay!

 4. Feeding the bees: And last week the Himalayan Cherries were through with flowering. Mian and I opened up our hive to give the bees some jaggery. Not much development since autumn, but atleast they are alive..need to learn more about bee keeping.

5. Winter is still here though. And so I am continuing to sprout grain for the chickens.

6. And in case you think Mian and I are the only ones working here, here's a photo of the Great Tunnel

Six on Saturday- the hopes and dreams edition

Okay. It's that time of the year again- Reckoning time. You know what I mean..the time when you turn the pages of your garden journal back to a page headed '2017!', look at a sketch on which is marked 'winter garden here', and then raise your eyes to the wasteland that still remains. Oh, it's just me doing that? Never mind then.

Because it is also the time of second chances. The time when you turn to a crisp and blank page, head it '2018!' and sketch another map. I thought it'd be fun to share some of my big plans with you..and actually, was hoping for suggestions too.

But let's start with the happy stuff.

1. Nasturti-yums: Believe it or not, I actually planted nasturtiums unsuccessfully for a couple of years, only to lose them to the hens. This time, they are in pots. And they are stunning!

2. Misplaced yucca: Last year, a good friend of Mian's decided to stay with us for a while. I wanted to give him something nice by the entrance to the guest room. Something welcoming that he could look at while sitting on the steps. And so of course, I moved two spiny yuccas from near the path to the doorway. Structural, with lovely shades of cerulean and jade, they were amazing in that spot. So amazing in fact, that I never moved them back. But they have been growing all this time, and will grow even more.

And so this winter I will move them. The question is, where? I have three spots where they will be perfect. And a coin has only two sides..

3. The Iris bed: It looks bare now, and the chickens do damage it a lot, but I actually am quite happy with this. It has a comfy bench, and a nice little succession of iris-mirabilis-marigolds going on.

And speaking of goings-on, please do look at the Madhu-Kochanie Digging Project. I hate to deter them, they are having so much fun!

4. The walk down: It's looking better with the proper path. And I actually have a lot planted there..hydrangeas, magnolia, chaenomeles, chrysanthemums, salvia, weigela, digitalis. They just need to pull their socks up now.I am aiming for a pinky purply shrub walk.

5. The fenced garden: Across the path from the iris bed. Admittedly, it is at its worst now.

It does have some colour in it later in the year. The problem is that barring one each of azalea, rose and forsythia this area is rather annuals-dependent. But it has a view of the mountains, which makes me want a table and chairs there. More perennials needed.

6. The Winter Garden: Blah. Bah. Humbug. I think I will indulge myself in a separate post detailing my woes. But till then, look at the awfulness:

The 'six-on-saturday' meme is hosted by The Propagator. In his words, it's "Six things, in the garden, on a Saturday. Could be anything – a flower, a pest, a success, a project, a plan, an abject failure – anything at all!" So if you want to find out what's happening in other gardens, do go on over to his blog!

Structure and mayhem

It is so good to be back in the garden! Going away, even if the travels are good, is becoming increasingly less attractive. But it is a blessing to be back in time for the winter. Because while my 'winter garden' still has a very long way to go, there is still much going on. This is not a time of lush beauty, but one of rest. A time when the silvery minty sheen on a magnolia bud takes on an importance that demands I stop and stroke it several times a day.
And most of my six on saturday this week will be at that scale. As always, do go on over to The Propagator's blog and read about other peoples gardens- such fun times we have there.

1. Kochanie Bhaloo: I said that 'most' of my six will be on a dimunitive, relaxed scale. But that does not mean spectacularly exuberantly interesting things are not going on. Meet exhibit A

His name is Kochanie (pronounced Kohanya) Bhaloo and he is a Bhotiya pup from a small shepherd's village near the Milam glacier. And now he is part of our family. Big Sister Madhu has taken on the responsibility for his care. Here she is grooming him, both as a way to establish dominance and as a very effective and organic way of getting rid of the lice he arrived with.

2. Bare: I know the magic ingredients that make a winter garden- structure, structure, structural evergreens. My friends have gardens that retain life in this winter due to their stone sculptures, their colourful crafts, and well-chosen plantings. On the other hand, much of my garden looks like this:

I am working on it, I may add. Some Agave plant-lings are slowly growing, rosemary and cotoneaster cuttings are struggling to grow into the lovely hedges they already are in my imagination, and every year some structure gets added to the garden.
And who needs stone sculptures when we have posing roosters?

3. Shakkei: Where would we be without it? The Japanese art of incorporating 'outside' elements such as a neighbours house, a distant view or the fleeting clouds into one's garden design is a godsend for me. Whenever I am despondent because of my bare garden, or anxious because of all the undone tasks, all I need to do is look up.

There they stand, the Nepal Himalayas, highlighted with white, each fissure and ridge sharply defined. 'Yep, I did a good job with those" I nod and move on, greatly comforted.

4. Sprouting: Gardeners cannot live on mountain views alone though. It is a good thing they have pots. Here are my phlox seedlings going strong (touchwood). And I should pot them on, but am afraid of jinxing something that is doing well.

The strawberry seedlings alas are another story. Most died, the ones that survived do not seem to grow beyond their hardly-visible status.


5. Growing: And in the garden too, there is growth. and a reminder of why it is a good thing I do not cut back plants. Under the shelter of last-summers stems, there is hope of the next.
Here are chrysanthemum plants.

Here are salvia.


 Here is a buddelia braving the winter:

6. Harvest: Radish and lettuces.

 

 The lettuce is protected from the frost, the radishes encouraged to get frost-kissed and sweet.
And because size does sometimes matter, here is a photo:

A bitter story

When a good friend ran out of bitter marmalade, she called me. I was the only person she knew who could be trusted to give her traditional marmalade. An acquaintance had gone on a trek last year, in the course of which he dropped in to visit Mian. His chief memory of that long day is that he had eaten whisky-laced marmalade at our home. In a few hours, two young men are coming over home so that I can teach them how to coax lemons into marmalade. So I have a bit of a reputation for making the stuff. And I make a LOT of it.

Which is  why it is surprising that I do not enjoy the jam-making process. Is it the tedium of chopping and stirring, you wonder? Is it the hours spent over a stove knowing that if you look away, the gloopy mess will suddenly burn? Is it the dipping of hands alternately into cold lemon pulp and hot water with disastrous results? Ye-es..all of that does have a place, but the real reason is different.

I detest marmalade-making because the process is the equivalent of the nosy neighbour who visits to pass judgement on your housekeeping. Marmalade making is the pious uncle who discovers that you used your 'no-aromatics' chopping board to cut onions because all the others were in the sink; the  aunty who spies the mustard seed you spilled into the sugar the day you were juggling chai and khichidi; the other uncle who points out that you have 12 jars and 8 lids; and worst of all, marmalade-making is the pesky brat who announces to everyone that you miscalculated the recipe and tried to cover it up by stirring hot water into half a jar of marmalade.

Thankfully, all these jars have lids..

For me, the source of distress all of last year was the case of the  Ginger-Garlic-marmalade. I had opened a fresh jar and immediately smelt it- ginger and garlic where there should have been only lemon and sugar. Hastily, I shoved it to the back of the fridge and opened another jar.

Many months later, Mian reached for a new jar and I watched his face change as he uncapped it. 'Oh is that the garlic one?' I asked blithely. 'That's for when we make sweet-and-sour pork.' Mian, bless the man, did not ask any more questions but put it back in the fridge. As our stock diminished, that jar became more and more prominent till I finally emptied it out, popped the contents into the freezer,and washed the jar.

For this year's batch, I had learnt my lesson. I used two buckets of hot lemony water to scrub every surface and every utensil in sight, I boiled jars and jar lids, I did not eat or cook anything till everything was sealed away. I even used a new dish sponge for the occasion.

One of the 5 batches..plain lemon and lemon + cocoa

And today I opened a jar and there it was..ginger garlic marmalade. Turns out that particular  jar is haunted by the spirit of Kimchi past. I had made it once, and it's ghost lingers in the plastic lid. I had to toss that. Thankfully, it is just the one jar and after 5 kilos, I have declared that marmalade season is Closed.

I've barely made a dent in the tree

A friend has bought me 3 kilos of cabbage. They want to try my Kimchi, they say..