A SHED BY ANY OTHER NAME...

This is a shed:

 

Beautiful isn't it?

 

Unfortunately it isn't our shed.

 

Our shed looks like this:

 

 

Not in the same league.

 

That's because our shed is ugly.

 

However, even ugly sheds serve a purpose. Ask any male. He will tell you a shed is a sacrilegious place, an alpha chamber housing important handyman stuff.

 

That may be true for some sheds. It is not true for ours. Our shed, like so many others, is a giant dumping ground. It is the final go to when the hall cupboard groans 'enough!'

 

Last time I looked (and I try not to go in there for obvious reasons) I fought my way through several half started timber projects, a collection of unrepairable electrical items (kept because the parts might come in handy) and a box of treasured memorabilia from long ago footy bus tours of the outback (stubbie coolers, framed underpants etc.)

 

So what happens when there is a need for something specific?

 

The search will be long and hard but the item will never be found. The final defeat comes with a trip to the hardware store to buy a replacement.

 

Final score: Shed 4; Handyman 0

 

So sheds might be a necessity but ugly sheds steal the focus, sucking the beauty right out of any landscape.

 

For instance, this is the garden along the back fence. In spite of endless days of scorching heat, it is starting to look just a little bit tropical.

 

 

 

The acalyphas 'Musaica' have grown to a commanding height and the orange heliconias and multi coloured cordylines are starting to fill out the gaps nicely.

 

 

 This garden should not have to compete with an ugly shed.

A quick scan of the internet convinces me that with a little bit of tweaking - OK a lot of tweaking - our shed could morph into a quaint pseudo cottage (good gardens are all about illusion after all.) But I'll need some supplies.

A set of French doors is first on the list. Consequently our weekends are spent scouring second hand shops for a bargain (Ian loves this part especially when it means missing sport on TV.)

Eventually we find what we're looking for deep in the undergrowth of an old furniture yard (getting them out was a nightmare.)

 



As soon as we hit home I get to work.  After giving them a good scrub I have the look I want - clean but rustic. And because we don't want the shed walls showing through we coat the back of the glass with mirror finish paint.

 

A bit of trellis to hide the ugly zincalume fence extension and ...voila!

 

  



 





Ian is ready to pack up his tools and hide them back in the shed never to be seen again but I am not finished yet.

 

A cottage, pseudo or otherwise, needs a window.

 

Family comes to the rescue and to Ian's relief (second hand stores are not his thing) his son donates an old casement window to our cause.

 

 

This window is way past rustic. So we reglaze it, sand it back and spruce it up with a fresh coat of paint. We enlist the help of another son (thank you Chris) and the window is proudly screwed onto the shed.

 

A couple of strategically placed pots of beautiful Mandevillas and some Japanese Box by the door and I am a happy woman.



 



Well almost happy. While the outside of the shed looks suitably glamorous, we still can't find anything inside!

 

 

 



IT'S NO PICNIC HANGING ROCKS

Take a pile of rocks.

 

Not any rocks but a carefully tracked down collection. Rocks of the perfect colour and shape that make your heart beat faster when you finally discover them after scouring every landscape supplier in the Redlands.

And what do you end up with? 

 

a) An education into the hefty price of stunning rocks?

b) The realisation that stunning rocks weigh a ton?

c)  A wrecked patch in the lawn where stunning rocks lie while you figure out a way to shift them?

Maybe, but most importantly you end up with a landscaping dream!

Yes, for the past few months Ian and I have been busy getting our rocks off. Or to be more accurate getting our rocks on. 

You may remember from past blogs, the slight rise in the back garden -the jungle waiting to be tamed?



Amazon country

In a fit of gardening enthusiasm, I figure it will be the perfect spot for a rockery.

Ian isn’t totally convinced at first but, never one to rain on my parade even if it does tend to be on the scale of a Macy’s Thanksgiving extravaganza, he eventually agrees.

A simple weekend’s work. Clear the area, throw down a few rocks and stick in some plants.  Easy.

 

Perhaps…

First comes the clearing. A couple of hours work?

Try a couple of weeks.

I actually bend the crow bar on a cluster of subterraneous tree roots. And some of the climbing weeds have their origins in the neighbouring street.

But, this is my brainchild and even if the area looks worse than when I started I must press on without complaint.

Half cleared

 

With the weeds finally gone it’s time to dig out any plants we want to keep.

Ever tried to relocate grevilleas that don’t want to move? The ones in this bed decide they are there till the end – theirs or ours. We finally win the battle but my relationship with grevilleas will never be the same. These days just the sight of a grevillea root brings me out in a cold sweat.

Unfortunately a cleared area can look quite daunting. This one is no exception.

Ready for a rock concert

 

More like a council waste depot than a garden. But it’s all or nothing so now begins the hunt for the perfect rocks.  As I may have mentioned this takes some time but eventually we locate our gems.

Moving them is another story, and one that we finally achieve with the help of Troy the bobcat man.



On your marks...



Troy is an eternally patient man. He doesn’t even flinch when I change my mind several times on rock placement.

In the end, we are really happy with the outcome.

Now it looks like a rockery

 

Even Tess approves and decides it’s the perfect place for a spot of sunbathing

 

 

We leave the ground to settle for a couple of weeks, then comes my favourite thing in all the world. Planting.

I decide green is the colour of choice to complement the light rocks. I want varying shades. First up a tropical standard - Dwarf Philodendron Selloum.



Lush, tropical and only grows to around a metre and a half

Variegated Tri Star Jasmine- a perfect choice to ramble over rocks

 



Sannantha Compact Baeckia

I had one of these Dwarf Baeckia Virgata growing in my rockery in Mackay. It forms a beautiful green mound and gets tiny white flowers throughout the year plus it’s a hardy little begger. Recently renamed 'Sannantha Compact Baeckia' it’s hard to find but well worth the hunt.





 

 

 

 

 

 

To add an artistic touch I plant a flat bottomed jug with sedum green mound in the hope that it will spill out of the pot and grow over the rocks. Fingers crossed for that one.

After that it’s just the usual suspects, Variegated Mondo, Cycads - for their gorgeous deep green - and a Dwarf Brunifelsia to give occasional colour and fragrance.  And, as always, we finish with lots of mulch. 



Our work here is done....sort of



We might have wrecked the front and back lawns and we’re probably both on our way to knee replacement surgery, but I think the end result is more than worth it. Can't wait for things to start growing!

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HOW DOES MY GARDEN GROW?

It’s time to take stock.

 

Time to evaluate where we are and how far we have travelled.

No, I’m not talking about trekking the Himalayas or precariously negotiating the path at Caminito del Rey; I’m talking about my creative goal, my obsessive urge – my tropical garden.

 A tropical garden that has been sadly neglected of late.

I’m afraid it’s true. Life, or rather work, has gotten in the way of my ultimate dream and my gardening muscle is in danger of becoming weak and flabby (or weaker and flabbier). I need inspiration, a horticultural shot in the arm; and, now that the nights are drawing in, a few extra hours of daylight wouldn’t go astray either.

So I’m doing a tour of the garden, camera in hand, in an effort to regain my momentum.

First stop, the ugly backyard fence garden. This was how it looked before…

And now…

This was my first garden makeover.

The bed was cut out of the lawn and mulched to within an inch of its life. Even with all that ground work, the plants have struggled. Having to compete with massive gum tree roots plus the hard depleted soil has seen quite a few specimens give up the fight forever.

But, like any obsessive gardener, as one plant withers, I put another in its place. There is no such thing as sentimentality when it comes to gardening.

 

Even so, I have to admit to shedding a tear when my Licuala Ramsayi (nicknamed Gordon) curled up its toes. I loved that palm and tried everything short of giving it mouth to mouth to revive it. Now there is a Rhapis palm where Gordon once lived, and I’m watching it like a hawk.


'Gordon'Ramsayi before his demise

Fortunately for this garden, the mulch has started doing its thing and Ian’s irrigation system (the one that’s has seen our water bill go through the roof) has given the bed a much-needed boost.

 Plus, I’m delighted that some of the ugly fence is finally being camouflaged. Hopefully, by this time next year, it will be completely hidden.

 

Next, the front garden.

Before…

 

And after...

 

This area has really improved.  It had reasonable soil to start with and just went from strength to strength when we added the mushroom compost and forest mulch.

The Heliconias give the tropical lushness I am after and the palms, after a shaky start, are growing well.

This is also the bed with the wicked yuccas.

We cut them back quite severely but these plants never give up. For every cut limb they shoot two or three new potential eye stabbers. I spend endless hours cutting off the new growth, only for the tree to sprout again when my back is turned.

But fear not, armed with my trusty chainsaw, this winter will see me once again go into battle.

Next up -the pool garden.

How it was...

How it is now...

 

 

This is the sunny area of the back garden, so the new plants have taken some time to adjust. And while they were busy acclimatizing, the agapanthus attempted a complete take over.

I have dug out numerous clumps of these hardy little beggars and replanted most of them up the back. I use the term ‘replanted’ loosely as I’ve literally just thrown the clumps against the trees but miraculously they survive. Try doing that with a rose bush.

While the palms and cordylines are doing well, I did lose a Dianella and a couple of crotons plus something ate my black Mondo grass, but, since they were planted at the height of the long hot summer, I probably got what I deserved.

 And lastly, my hillside garden.  At the start…

 

And now…

 

 

 

This was the most time consuming of all the work I’ve done so far. But it’s my pride and joy. And even though I still have a way to go before this garden is completely finished, I'm loving filling in the spaces.

Being on the side of the hill adds such depth to a garden bed, and the tropical plants thrive on the dappled sunlight. 

A quick tour of this section finally restores my gardening mojo and my imagination runs wild for my next big project - the huge side garden out the front.

I tell Ian what I'm thinking.  Why don't we mound it up and make a  hill? It wouldn't take much would it? Just a few truckloads of soil?

I think he's pretending not to hear me.

 

 

 

 



 

 

 



 

 



  

INCH BY INCH...

The final part of the hill challenge is about to begin.  And if it’s anything like the first section, it’s not going to be pretty.

Rocky terrain, a tangled mess of tree roots, and soil tough enough to test the burrowing skills of a fat-arsed wombat means we’re probably in for a rough ride.

To keep positive, I focus on what we have already achieved in the hill chase. The plants in the completed section are not just surviving, they are looking lush and happy, probably more luck than judgement, even so it gives me the push to continue.

 



Overall the work completed is only about a third of the whole and there’s nothing worse than a job half (or in this case a third) done, therefore we need to get working.

Ian looks a little unsure when I tell him my plan. Especially after he googles up the forecast and sees that the next few days are going to be sunstroke weather.  

Plus the poor man has other jobs on his agenda – jobs that I may have organised for him (like installing an irrigation system) so he is torn. 

I reassure him that I can finish most of the hill by myself and will only need him for the tricky bits and his face returns to normal.  I’m sure Don Bourke never had this trouble getting good help.

Fortunately it is not as steep here as in the first section, instead it gradually slopes back to ground level as it curves around the lawn.

 

And because we cleared out a lot of scrub previously, the going isn’t so tough (not that I’m about to admit that to Ian who is knee deep in irrigation pipe and having his own dramas judging by the language coming from the shed.)

Having said that, there are stubborn weeds and a prolific, stealthy grass of some description that puts up a brutal fight.  However, it is no match for a crazy woman with a mattock and soon I have taken control and am ready for planting.

 

 

This is the part I love!

I  have spent numerous hours thinking about what I want to grow here and, as a self-confessed plantaholic, I have quite a selection at hand. I can’t wait to get them in the ground.

But there is a snag.

This is crowbar country. Even after giving the area a good soak, digging a decent hole is a punishing process.  I need help. 
And who better to call on than the man who can wield a sledgehammer with more gusto than a frenzied teenager at a carnival?

It takes a while but between us, Ian and I carve out holes in the hill, fill them with good soil and painstakingly plant the backdrop.

Always there are palms – all the usual suspects: Foxtails, Cascades etc. Also a Bamboo palm, a Chinese Fan  (planted way at the back because it grows so tall) and a couple of favourites from Mackay – a  Rhapis Humilis that almost didn’t survive the journey,  and a couple of Christmas palm seedlings grown from seeds from my old garden.

I know they’re small but I’m hoping they will take off in this shady environment.

Then I start filling the gaps.

For colour the good old faithful Crotons, Mammy and Captain Kidd and some unnamed species from my cuttings collection.  A wide variety of Cordylines including Aurora, Florence and Halole Jade add some sophistication.
 

 

 

 

Under the trees it is Bromeliad heaven so I throw some in and, because they’re doing so well in the first section, a couple of Birdsnest and Silver Lady ferns.

  

 

This is a big rambling garden and I know I will be spending a lot of time filling in gaps and balancing out the colour, but for now I have the bones in place.

Next comes the icing on the cake - the mulching.
Section by painful section...

                                                                 
Because my plans always change halfway through and because we happen to have a few bits of sandstone paver lying around, we - that is I - decide it might be nice to put a decorative paved border in front of the garden. This will make a break between the lawn and the garden bed and provide a little interest.

We also add a few tufts of Mini Mondo grass to soften the edges.

 

We  strongly believe in rewarding ourselves after a job well done. .. or a job badly done. ..or even a job not done. 

 

 

Actually, rewarding ourselves is probably what we do best!