Small Gardens, and How to Make the Most of Them by Violet Purton Biddle
Small Gardens, and How to Make the Most of Them by Violet Purton Biddle
The General Arrangement of the Garden
What to go in for, and what to avoid-Brick walls-Trees, their advantages and disadvantages, etc.
It is imperative that a small garden, such as one generally finds attached to suburban or small houses, should be made the very most of. Frequently, however, its owners seem to think that to attempt to grow anything in such a little plot of ground is a veritable waste of time and money, as nothing ever comes of it. The aim of this book is to show that even the tiniest piece of land can be made pretty and even profitable, if due attention be given it.
WELL BEGUN IS HALF DONE. To begin with, it is well to remember that the tenant of a small garden should not endeavour to represent every feature he sees in large grounds; the poverty-stricken shrubbery and pond just about large enough for a nice bath, are too often seen, and only call forth ridicule. Some landscape gardeners have even objected to the presence of a lawn, where the space at disposal is very limited indeed, but to my mind a little turf is always advisable, for it not only entices people into the fresh air for a game, but forms a good foil for flowering plants, and above all looks so well during the winter.
A long narrow garden is always easier to deal with than a square plot of land, the range of vision not being "brought up short," as it were. It is well to take heed of this fact where there is any choice in the matter. Good brick walls are a great help in gardening, though alas! in these hurried days they are becoming much rarer, the wooden fence being run up so quickly, and at far less expense.
As regards the walks, it is better to have one path wide enough for two people abreast than several unsociably narrow ones. Each path should lead somewhere, to the summer-house, or a gate, for instance: otherwise it looks inconsequent.
Besides the flower-garden proper, a nursery for making experiments, sowing seeds, and striking cuttings, should find a place, if possible; a rubbish-heap is invaluable, too, where all decayed vegetable refuse, road-scraping, soapsuds, etc., should be thrown. In autumn, all the leaves the gardener sweeps up should be placed near by, both heaps being frequently turned over to allow of the noxious gas escaping, and to assist decomposition. The rubbish corner should be at the furthest extremity of the garden, though it need not be unsightly if a screen is placed around it. Privet is certainly the quickest growing shrub for that purpose, but, as it is so common, other shrubs, such as pyrus japonica, arbutus, barberry, and pyracantha, may be used.
THE JOYS OF A GREENHOUSE. If there is no greenhouse, try to obtain one; it is such an infinite delight all through the dark months of the year, and this without any great cost for fuel. A Rippingille oil-stove, with one four-inch wick, will suffice to keep the frost out of a structure measuring 16 × 10, if a lean-to (that is, attached to a dwelling-house). Even this expense may be avoided where it is built against a kitchen wall, though, if the wall happened to face north, only ferns and just a few flowers would thrive. But even these would form a great interest, especially to invalids, who often find their greatest pleasure in pottering about under their "little bit of glass."
A VEXED QUESTION. The vexed question of lopping one's neighbours' trees is sure to crop up sooner or later. However much detriment the trees may be doing, by preventing the free access of sun and air, tenants should know that the law only justifies them in cutting down those branches which actually overhang their own domains. This being the case, it is often the best "to grin and bear it," and lop the trees as little as possible, for we must acknowledge that the fine form of a tree is always spoilt when interfered with to any great extent. If the border would, in any case be shady, so much the better; it will only require a little more attention in the matter of watering, etc. After all, shade from the hot summer sun is absolutely necessary if we would enjoy a garden, therefore it is always well to hesitate over an act which takes but a few minutes to do, but may need years to repair. Where the trees overhang a good south or west wall the matter is more serious; it is then advisable to cut back as far as possible, for roses, peach-trees, and, indeed, most climbers resent the constant drip they are obliged to endure in wet weather. A list of plants which do well under trees in various aspects is given in another chapter.
BREAKING UP. As the eye wearies of the straight piece of lawn with gravel path and border surrounding it, where practicable the ground should be broken up a bit. Some wide trellis-work, painted dark-green, with an arch-way on either side, helps to do this, and lends a pleasant sense of mystery to what might otherwise be a prosaic garden. It should be covered with all manner of creepers, such as clematis, jasmine, roses in variety, and some of the hardy annuals. Very tender plants should not be put on a trellis, as it does not by any means take the place of a wall, being more draughty than the open ground, though such things as the ceanothus will often live through several winters, and bloom beautifully every summer in such a spot, till an unusually hard frost kills them outright. Mulching, however, of which more anon (see Glossary), materially aids in preserving them.
In gardening it is the little things that tell. A mere trifle often makes the difference between failure and success. People will hardly believe, for instance, how important it is that certain plants should only receive soft water, and continue giving the water laid on by the company when all the time gallons and gallons of precious rain from heaven are running to waste. It is only a question of a tank to preserve it, which should be in an unobtrusive situation, though easily get-at-able. Where alpines are concerned, rainwater should be the only beverage, and this reminds me that a rockery on which to grow these gems of other countries is not such an impossibility in a town garden as might be thought by their scarcity.
HOW NOT TO DO IT. The rockery, as seen in most gardens, both public and private, is too often an example of "how not to do it." A heterogeneous mass of clinkers, planted here and there with ivy, and exposed to the full force of sun and wind, is not to be named in the same breath with those at Kew, for instance. Of course, these are not made with bricks at all, but of soft grey stone, rather difficult to obtain by amateurs. Nevertheless, the shape and general characteristics may be copied; indeed, a day every now and then spent in the Royal Gardens at Kew or in any other well planned gardens, is a liberal education in such matters, and a great help in laying out a garden to good effect, though, naturally, everything must be considerably modified.
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Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission-carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.
Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.
At their wedding night, Kayla caught her brand-new husband cheating. Reeling and half-drunk, she staggered into the wrong suite and collapsed into a stranger's arms. Sunrise brought a pounding head-and the discovery she was pregnant. The father? A supremely powerful tycoon who happened to be her husband's ruthless uncle. Panicked, she tried to run, but he barred the door with a faint, dangerous smile. When the cheating ex begged, Kayla lifted her chin and declared, "Want a second chance at us? Ask your uncle." The tycoon pulled her close. "She's my wife now." The ex gasped, "What!?"
One year into marriage, Yvonne realized she was nothing more than a substitute for someone else's memory. When his true love reappeared, Julian tossed a divorce contract her way. "She's back. We're finished," he said flatly. The secret of her pregnancy stayed hidden. Yvonne fought the urge to cry, signed her freedom, and disappeared. Five years on, cameras flashed as Yvonne, radiant in red, strode across a film festival stage with her bright-eyed son. Julian's hands clenched as he watched. "Sir, the boy's four and a half," whispered his shaken assistant. Then, he rushed to the film set only to witness an A-list actor gently wrapping his arm around Yvonne's waist. "I've booked your favorite restaurant for tonight's celebration." The little boy blinked his innocent eyes at Julian, asking, "Who are you? One of my mom's crazy admirers?" He cornered her in the dressing room, his voice hoarse as he said, "Let's remarry." Her lips curled slightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "The curtain's down; it's time to end this scene." But this time, he wasn't letting go.
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