When Dad entered a
care home, in 2003, and our family home of almost eighty years was put up for sale, Bigbrother
took cuttings from the honeysuckle that had graced the front of the bungalow
for as long as I can remember.
Each of
us siblings now has the honeysuckle growing somewhere in our garden.
I planted mine next to the back gate and
attempted to train it over onto the kitchen roof.
It flourished.
As did the Loch Ness thornless
blackberry Fester planted in the middle of the back fence.
They are both now so huge they have
taken down a chunk of the back fence and even I (the shortest member of the
household) have to stoop to get through the gateway.
I have bought and, yesterday, erected a
metal arch over the gateway, and part of the fence.
Much to Fester’s horror the more
intrusive blackberry runners have been pulled away, or turned back.
When the honeysuckle finishes flowering
there will be hacking back, lifting, twining and praying that it regenerates
from the base. Cuttings have been taken
just in case.
Erecting the arch necessitated using the
short stepladder, which was left on the yard while I fought the foliage.
Then this happened …
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