Weeding the Web

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day: summery and strong

This combination of Johnson's Blue geranium and a venerable double-flowered pink peony (unknown) look stunning in the sunlight. Can't really do them justice.

To see who else is enjoying what, visit May Dreams Gardens for this month's round-up of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.

Which is best - shoes or boots for gardening?

There are those who Make Do, and those who Make Right.

Putting up with a a hot tap, for six months, that needs rebuilding each time you turn it on is definitely Making Do [blush].  Researching thoroughly to find the perfect remedy to a problem is not (read: fundamental difference between Husband and self).

So, as I stepped back from the flowerbed onto uneven paving and fell off my garden clogs for the umpteenth time, I thought perhaps I should borrow some husbandly application before I twisted something.

What is the ideal gardening footware? A shoe challenge at May Dreams Gardens got people thinking (ouch to Ellie's favourites on my brambly bits) and, chances are, like them, you're building an ever-growing pile of old shoes by the backdoor. I spotted the flaw early on. Old shoes leak.

For some time, I used lace-up leather walking boots that someone had given me. Too much work.  I fear I wasn't up to the constant cleaning, polishing and dubbin-application that they desperately needed after being toe-down in mud.

Laces become unpleasantly soggy when jammed into wet clay (I garden mostly on my knees). And having to labour to get shoes off just encouraged me, in opposition to my admonishing self, to tread mud into the house when the doorbell rang.

No, gardening shoes need to be low-maintenance, easy to put on, easy to shuck off.

Clogs (I do love them) tick these boxes and are great for slipping on to cross the garden, but their soles feel unequal to the narrow edge of a spade, so I don't use them for digging, and (vide my undignified sprawl on the grass) support-wise they leave a bit to be desired.

What about wellies? All boxes ticked, not to mention trousers protected. But - how shall I put this? - some girls are more developed than others. I'm talking calves here! Give me an average welly and it jams halfway to my knee. (Although, more sophisticated models have an  adjustable girth.)

And memories of sweaty heels left naked by socks inching past my toes aren't enticing (though, of course, now you can get socks that tuck over welly tops).

Then I got another childhood flash.

My mother's Wellington boots weren't, to my hide-bound childish gaze, quite proper. They were white when they should have been black. And calf-length when they should have been knee-high (my calves, you realise, are Not My Fault). But now they make perfect sense. Easier to kick off, easier to access socks, easier to tuck in trousers.

So are calf-length wellies the answer? I'd have to try them. For now, I'd love to know what shoes/boots you favour, so please leave a comment and let us know what works for you in the garden.

Meanwhile, that quiet sobbing is me, as I realise I'm turning into my mother.

That scream of terror is my husband...

This post is sponsored by Burnhills.