‘I’m a Goldilocks gardener, but it’s time to wage war on weeds’
Salt Of The Earth, a gardening column by Sam Hawcroft
I have to admit, I’m a bit of a Goldilocks gardener. By that I mean that the weather usually has to be ‘just right’ before I get out there.
Windy? Nope. Rain? Nope. Cold? Nope. Heatwave? Nope – although I do admire Monty Don for coming out in all weathers and regularly appearing on Gardener’s World with rain-soaked hair plastered to his face.
Mind you, he’s got a BBC TV contract to honour.
However, on the hottest day of the year I did feebly attempt to replant a bed that had previously been full of self-sown plants such as Spanish bluebells, foxgloves, toadflax, aquilegia and cow parsley.
I left it because it looked quite nice in May, but by mid-July it was a tangled, faded mess.
It should have taken me an hour or two, but I kept having to take cover from the searing heat.
In the end, over that boiling weekend I managed to rip it all out and plant a selection of pollinator-friendly perennials bought with my birthday vouchers (oh yeah, did I mention I share my birthday with none other than Monty?).
In went salvia, achillea, argyranthemum, sedum, a lovely hibiscus from my mum, plus a couple of hostas for foliage interest.
I also put in a few begonias to fill in the gaps, in a vain attempt to prevent one of my cats, George, using the bare earth as a litter tray. (I thought that cats were supposed to do that in neighbours’ gardens, but he clearly hasn’t got the memo.)
Filling a space of about two square yards cost me £60, which brought to mind TV gardeners who blithely talk about “popping” plants in here and there. But this isn’t cheap, and planting up whole areas from scratch can be extortionate.
I really need to get to grips with taking regular cuttings, as they’re the best way of achieving free plants (and as an insurance policy if you lose some to a harsh winter) – but the process can be hit and miss, and not exactly speedy.
Some plants take far better than others – rosemary is really easy, and I’ve also had success with clematis, lavender and, in particular, diascia personata; after taking cuttings of the latter in spring 2020, it was ready to plant out the same summer, and this year it’s a yard high and going nuts.
I’ve also been trying as hard as possible to keep control of the weeds - without using harmful weedkillers - and get rid of them before they set seed, but that’s easier said than done; it should be a weekly chore but inevitably, life and work takes over and before I know it they’re everywhere.
I know that the definition of a weed is a plant in the wrong place, but… there are some truly invasive offenders that I’ve started to foster an irrational hatred of – and I’ve long been thinking of listing my top 10 most despised, if only to get it all off my chest.
So, here goes:
Brambles: I have a real love-hate relationship with these. The fruit is ace, but the plants are truly evil! While some weeds prefer certain areas of the garden, brambles are not fussy; they will spring up everywhere and rapidly snake around borders if you don’t catch them early. Inch-thick fully grown stems, with their vicious thorns, are the stuff of nightmares.
Cleavers: also known as sticky willy, this spreads through hedge and border like wildfire. It does pull up very easily, but it gives me a nasty skin rash so I usually need to put a hazmat suit on before going in to remove huge thickets of it. Apparently it’s edible and can be used as a brew; I’ll stick to my Yorkshire Tea, thanks.
Nettles: these are a sign of rich, fertile soil. A back-handed compliment if ever there was one. They terrify me, because the sting really hurts and stays with you for a day. They are beneficial to insects, particularly butterflies, so I do leave a few patches untouched, and they are also edible and rich in vitamins and minerals. I once made a Greek spanakopita with some young spring nettles; sadly, the other half wasn’t that impressed that I’d made his evening meal out of weeds.
Horsetail: there’s a video on the Gardener’s World website titled, “Can I eradicate horsetail?” Spoiler alert: no. If you’ve got this in your garden, admit defeat. Its roots can be several feet deep, often creeping underground for yards. You’d have to resort to chemical warfare, and even then, it’s not guaranteed to finish it off for good. Just pull it up or mow it when you see it, which will weaken it over time – and learn to live with it, is my advice.
Shining geranium: this red-stemmed annual proliferates in spring; it’s easy to pull up, but, by heck, it’s annoying. Next year I’m thinking of paying a small child 50p for each one they can pull up; that’ll be a nice little earner for the right candidate.
Geum urbanum (or wood avens/herb bennet): a perennial invader whose presence I’ve begun to take personally. Gets EVERYWHERE.
Creeping buttercup: yes, the flowers are nice, but, as its name suggests, it’s invasive and hard to eradicate as it’s got deep roots. I’ve got a problem with it in one area of heavy, damp soil – just what it likes – so I’m going to have another go at digging it out and then add some compost and grit in the hope that it’ll get the message and shove off.
Creeping thistle: I’m including this because it’s a bit ouchy. It seems to pull out reasonably easily if you grab it right near the base, but it’ll spike through even quite tough gardening gloves. That said… the seeds are an important food source for a variety of birds, so I’m happy to leave the odd patch alone.
Bindweed: we do get this in a couple of areas, but, like horsetail, it’s near-impossible to eradicate, so I just detangle it, pull it up and put it in the garden bin. I don’t see it as the worst weed, though, not by a long way. And its flowers are nice.
Grass: I’m not sure whether it’s couch grass, Yorkshire fog, meadow grass, or a combination of all three, but the stuff invades the borders to such an extent that I feel like giving up on it. I try to keep the lawn edges tidy…ish – but I think I need to accept this is a Sisyphean task.
Ahhhh… that was almost as satisfying as a spot of weeding.
I’ve recently started off a compost bin (I’ll talk next month about how my composting journey is going), but I rarely if ever put weeds in it as I’m petrified I’ll end up spreading them about the garden even more. And the blasted things don’t need encouraging…