The Lawn

This was how it all begun. I so wanted fresh raspberries and blackberries. With cream great, in pastries even better, and your own supply to pick from the bush when they were ripe. Spring raspberries, Autumn raspberries and blackberries from July until September, just perfect. Then Mr. Swiss and I were sort of 15 years younger and still quite lively. However, as the years went by, the plants multiplied, grew stronger, and decided to spread and spread and spread. They were growing in all available space in the garden, mostly in the lawn. One fine day in Autumn I decided (or we decided) somehow we are too old for this sort of thing. It all started when I took a garden fork in my hand and started to prod around. Suddenly I had the complete roots of the blackberry bush on the fork. Fantastic, I thought, and carried on. within an hour or so there were no blackberry bushes to be seen any more. The raspberries were easier and they also disappeared. within an afternoon in Autumn we were berry free.

This was an illusion. I raked over the earth  and left it a complete Winter. It snowed on the ground, the ground froze and come next March I had a bed ready to plant a lawn. My first step was to speak to my friends boyfriend in England. He was a retired gardener, so I got advice about how to plant a lawn. He asked what is the earth like? I told him I put a fresh layer on every year all over the garden, so he found just perfect. Now I should flatten it all a bit, scatter grass seeds all over it, press them into the earth, give them a good soaking with water and make sure they stay nice and wet. Also put something up to keep the birds away. No problem, I went to the local supermarket and bought some coloured plastic tape to put up. Mr. Swiss did mention in the meanwhile I could call in a gardener, but I decided for the small plot of land I did not need Capability Brown. Anyhow I went ahead and this is what I had afterwards.



Now I know it looks a bit uneven and somehow not evenly sown, but I was not intending to play lawn tennis on it, and daisies just belong in a lawn as far as I am concerned. Anyhow then the waiting begun. Not a few days, or even a month, but about two months. Then one morning I went to the window to study the progress (I was doing it every morning when I got up) and lo and behold a wonder had happened. There was a greenish shimmer on the earth's surface. A lawn was born. It was then a time when we had very little, or no rain, so I was busy with watering this special patch of earth at least once a day to keep up the good work.

As this was a matter of agricultural planning, I had left space on the edge for a flower bed. Well sort of. At the same time the local supermarket had opened a new department with the latest developments in flowers, so I was a regular customer. I decided for something plain and simple and here is the result.



Admittedly there are two or three suspicious patches where nothing seems to be growing, so it seems I missed out a couple of bits in between, but what not is can always happen. Up to now we have sewn fresh seeds to fill up the emptiness and I am sure one day there will be lawn. It also seems that I missed out the edges as we have a garden of shamrock growing there, but I just call that my tribute to Ireland.

Would you like to see the rest of the garden? Yes, I am sure you would.



This is the bit to the left of my Wimbledon Lawn - all from me, as here there was also once just lawn.



This is the bit to the right of my new, fantastic, wonderful Wimbledon Lawn.

This is the front bit of the garden, opposite the kitchen entrance, as it is my herb garden. I am sure the cooks amongst you will recognised some of the plants: basil, savoury, sage, spearmint and peppermint, oregano, parsley and thyme. The chives are just out of the picture.



I would add that the curse of the blackberries and raspberries has not yet been completely exoristed. The still show their selves now and again. So if I ever feel sad about the loss of those wonderful blackberry and raspberry tarts, I could always let them grow again.