If You Can't Beat Them

As our temperatures plummet yet again (what is it with New Zealand spring weather that it's so unpredictable?) there have still been a few sunny moments where it's been possible to get out in the garden.

I'm no gardener but I delight in all the signs of new life - apart from the weeds, of course - and everything that screams that a warmer season is not too far away.

Considering that while in Australia we had to go out and buy clothes more suitable for the warmer temperature, it's not been easy to be patient as New Zealand turns on a few more days that are decidedly more suitable to Antartica than our supposdedly temperate climate. But there is hope ahead ... if these beauties can be trusted.

And while the daffodils are finished and the Dutch irises almost so, there are other discoveries to be had. Meanwhile, I'll enjoy a garden that is dominated by my favourite colour and colour combinations.

Spring in New Zealand means blossom on the fruit trees ... which means winds to blow all that gorgeous blossom to smithereens ... which means any fruit that actually sets is more precious than gold. However, it looks as if we'll have more than one plum on our tree this year. I can't remember if this is the tree that we, in all innocence, planted believing to be a Black Doris Plum only to discover the plum - while delicious - was yellow-green skinned and white fleshed. No searching of catalogues has revealed the true identity of the plum (perhaps it's our very own personal cultivar?) but we decided to keep it anyway despite it not fitting into our carefully laid plans of what to plant for best cross-pollination and eating appeal.

Given our experience with the Back Doris that wasn't a Back Doris we were afraid that our Black Dragon wisteria was going to be a white dragon if the initial signs were any indication. I am happy to report that we were wrong and that there is the tiniest hint of "blackness" about to burst forth any day now. Having put off planting a wisteria on our pergola (due to ideas about said plant being hard work), we finally relented and are now anxiously awaiting our first display of glorious hanging racemes.

As much as I complain about our winter, it's not cold enough to kill off all the weed seeds ... or all those self-seeding plants that fill the cracks in our concrete and any bare patch in the garden, and then, after the first season, take over the whole garden.

I've been removing as many as possible but I have a feeling, especially given I managed to disperse seeds over an even wider area, that it's a losing battle. Oh well, if you can't beat them, join them, as my mother used to say.