T is for Tennis Elbow

Contrary to what you might think, I have not been playing tennis. It turns out that you can develop this condition from gardening too - specifically weeding.

Regular readers will know I enjoy an annual battle with the bindweed in my garden and this year it is clearly fighting back with new tactics - for how can I dig it up when my right arm is in so much pain that I can barely lift a glass of water, let alone dig out miles of sneaky roots? It has also brought in its stinging cousin the nettle to join its forces. This plant may well have been the cause of the elbow problem. There was much yanking and strain to the joints and tendons - though miraculously no stings!

May I just say that tennis elbow hurts. A lot. And apparently takes months to get rid of... I am much better today though and no longer reaching for the anti-inflammatories every four hours so I'm secretly hoping its just a strain.

Makes you realise how much I rely on having both arms in action. Feeling a sense of gratitude that I have them.

Letting go...

I've always loved my garden - a heady mix of honeysuckle, jasmine and clematis climbed the fences and dripped their petals on the cottage garden beds. Roses drooped in summer sun after the bluebells and bleeding hearts from spring went back to sleep for another year.

However, it might be time to concede defeat in the battle of the bindweed. No matter how hard I've tried to get rid of it over the years - even to the point of digging up rose bushes and painstakingly removing the deadly tangled roots before replanting - it still chokes every plant, climbs every stem and smothers my roses the second my back is turned.

All this rain did not help. It's like something out of a horror film out there. I half expect some viscious green tendril to snake out of the undergrowth and drag me in there by the ankle.

No, I fear the only solution is to dig everything up and over and start again.

I'm just rubbish at throwing things away though... I keep little bits of string from the labels of trendy surf-dudette clothing, bus tickets from holidays in faraway places, broken jewellery, rusty things I find squashed in the road. I have this belief that I'll find a use for everything. Digging up plants and throwing them in the bin just makes me feel queasy. I'm reaching a compromise position and will attempt to keep the roses in pots while I assess if they are weed free.

However, I accept that it has to be done. Just as I have to let go of the bus tickets and other accumulated junk and the bits of me that no longer (or possibly never did) do me service. Life is a journey forward and we can't move with freedom if we're tied down by the roots of the weeds we should have dug up years ago.

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Sharing the beautiful pink of my climbing roses with Inspiration Avenue's Pink Challenge this week.

Beware the bindweed

"Beware my lord of Bindweed, the green leaved monster that doth mock the meat it feedeth upon..."

Will Shakespeare (if he'd been a gardener as well as a playwright)

Every Spring I do battle. Armed with fork and trowel I dig in and attack, ripping through the advancing roots, weakening defences, flanking, chopping... Every year I make small advances but never win the war. Every time the bindweed just keeps on growing spreading its evil roots underground, sprouting from the tiniest of shoots, mocking me, laughing at my pathetic attempts to keep it at bay.

Last Summer I made a grave error. I gave up. I let it win and it twined its way through my roses, it choked, blanketed and clogged my shrubbery. It took over.

Now I've had to dig out the entire flower bed, wrenching my poor plants out and teasing the bindweed snakes from their roots before carefully replanting and hoping they survive the trauma. It has not been a pleasant experience and my muscles are protesting sorely.

Reminds me of how we deal with our troubles and anxieties. It's hard work keeping them under control, but necessary. For if we neglect what goes on underneath, the nasty roots like depression or resentment will spread and strangle your joy.

Beware the bindweed. Keep fighting!

Not my usual cheerful sort of post I admit, just a train of thought...  Rest assured I haven't been neglecting my emotional roots. All is well in the Wright camp!

Here comes summer...

Well, this is it, the sun is out. I dug out the flip flop sandals today, pulled on a surf chick skirt and top and strutted my stuff in the sunshine. Having fallen into bed at 10pm last night (on a Friday - how sad!), I was up with the lark (or maybe it was a pigeon) and out in the garden. Channel surfing the other night, I stumbled upon the Chelsea Flower Show and something that none other than Ken Livingstone said really got me thinking. He was discussing the therapeutic powers of gardening. So, I approached the weeding this morning from a different tack - this was not painful chore, it was relaxation. And, do you know what? He was right. Well done Ken, all those years in politics not wasted... I had a very pleasant potter and admittedly a small skirmish with the bindweed which had sent in reinforcements while my back was turned, but I soon sent it scuttling back under cover. Soon I'm off out again to allow someone else to unleash their creativity on me for a change - having a hair cut! Living la vida loca!

And the winner is...

Simply take one old Tupperware rectangular container, one son and one competitive Mum. Hand child-sized trowel to small boy and instruct to dig in earth and lightly fill the base of the box (see the joy on child's face at this instruction!). Watch while soil flies in every direction, brush out of hair and think about fetching the broom later. Next, demonstrate how to carefully remove small flowering alpine from plastic pot - by gently turning the plant upside down and softly squeezing the container. Bite back the urge to cringe and hope that flowers feel no pain as the poor thing flies across the patio. Place both plants carefully and neatly inside your soil-filled container. Lift up the one that has fallen over.

Retrieve cress that has been growing on windowsill in ramekins, shaking off the excess seeds that failed to germinate after being slightly excessively packed in. Your next demonstration should reveal how a little concentration and light finger work can safely transport cress from birthplace to new home or... just grab it in your fist and hope for the best. With cress strategically placed to offer feng shui balance, direct son to fill in the gaps with polished white stones. "Why?" Because it makes it look attractive. "Why?" Because I said so.

Place one of the glass ramekins inside the container and then spend half an hour looking for the pretty green stones you bought from a candle shop about 10 years ago and used once. Ask son to place a 'few' in the base of the ramekin. Remove excess then request that the 'pond' is carefully filled with water (using the hosepipe not recommended). Place some dried mango in pond to masquerade as goldfish.

Don't worry if you find yourself staring blankly at slightly boring looking miniature garden. To find creative inspiration, simply head off exploring to see what leaps out and attacks you. In looking for 'life' hit upon something that's been dead for millions of years yet beloved to all small boys.

Install selection of scary dinosaurs strategically around primeval swamp, but primarily gathered around waterhole.

Wait a further 6 days for the day of the school fête and the miniature garden competition.

By around day 4, you may find that the cress is now taller than the tyrannosaurus, so carefully insert more polished pebbles beneath dinosaur feet (giving them a health & safety briefing to avoid sprained ankles on slippery surfaces). Remove mouldy mango and refresh water.

Transport carefully to school and dutifully attend school fête.

Glow with pride as son picks up first prize in the Under 8s miniature garden competition!

Try not to be too disappointed that 'Dragonslayer' didn't win too!

It's War!

Yes, spring is in the air once again, the scent of flowers drifts upon the warm breezes, birds sing happily while nestbuilding and the dreaded bindweed once more begins its assault on my garden. I've had a number of battles with this scourge of the garden over the years - even won a few - but the war has been lost to date. HOWEVER, this year I approach the growing season with a distinct advantage - a spot of free time! The last two sunny afternoons have seen me on the offensive - digging, hacking, pulling, grappling. Filled two big buckets just with the dastardly roots. Regrettably, as with any war there have been a few casualties - some plants had to come out so I could unravel bindweed from their roots, they have gone back in the ground (in an impromtu 'field' hospital!) and hopefully injuries will not be fatal. I can safely say that I dessimated the bindweed forces today. Unfortunately they have green troops the other side of the fence waiting to make their incursions when I'm not looking... but I'll be ready...