Somewhere towards the end of winter, dedicated gardeners become slightly... odd. It may be caused by "soil deprivation syndrome" - failing to get our hands grubby for three months, or breathe in the scents that increase our levels of feel-good serotonin and decrease feel-stressed cortisol.
It may also be shock from temporarily having clean fingernails, at least till spring. Whatever the cause, even the most sensible gardeners are tempted by the end-of-season bulb sales, forgetting our aging backs and aching knees as we dig hole after hole to plant another 20 daffodils and 50 gladioli that had been on special and absolutely unmissable.
I have heroically resisted the temptation to plant yet another heritage apple tree, at vastly reduced prices. We do not need another apple tree, nor do the local birds, fruit bats and possums. Friends and family carefully paste on fake smiles each time we arrive with another bucket of excess apples for them to munch or cook... though I notice that an apple tea cake with just the right amount of nutmeg and cinnamon never appears unwanted, nor does anyone refuse a third helping of apple crumble made with giant apples that cook into a light, delicious froth, or a French-style apple tart with the slices still decoratively arranged over the pastry.
I virtuously haven't even bought another plum tree, but I did splurge just a little, well, maybe a lot, on bulbs and Federation daisies, a new variety that looks like the old hardy big white daisies but is supposed to be even more floriferous, assuming the wallabies and possums don't eat all the flower buds in the looming hot dry summer.
This is the time to think of garden jobs that look good and occupy a gardener's hands and mind, but don't involve planting, especially anything that may need to be watered every evening if summer is as harsh and smoky as the wombats and I suspect it will.
Think mulch, instead - not the lucerne or cane pulp kind of mulch. Putting that around your trees or shrubs or vegies now will attract frost just as the new buds are emerging.
Instead look at the decorative stone mulches. They are as effective at keeping warmth and moisture in and weeds out, but they last forever and can look superb too.
The only caution with stone mulches is to edge them carefully so the lawnmower doesn't throw one up and break a window or land in someone's eye.
A white or grey pebble mulch can look gorgeous around a pot plant or covering the surface of hanging baskets. It really does help stop the soil from turning to water-repellent semi concrete. Once the soil in your pot or hanging basket has hardened, your precious water will just seep down the edges, avoiding any contact with plant roots.
One gorgeous Canberra garden has arranged larger grey-blue stones to look like a creek, meandering through their native shrubs and flowers like banksia and kangaroo paw, with tufts of poa tussock and reeds here and there along the edges to look as if they grow by flowing water. It looks enchanting and is basically zero maintenance, except for pruning the native shrubs once a year.
Native shrubs do need regular pruning. I know the shrubs grow naturally in the bush without human hands helping them, but they also look naturally messy. You just don't notice their dead twigs and faded blooms because the bush is big and your eyes are taking in the whole picture. Once that shrub is in your garden, those twiggy bits just say "mess".
But do not prune your natives yet. Don't prune ANYTHING yet (toenails, hair and beards may still be trimmed). Pruning stimulates new growth and new growth may be killed by frost. Dead buds can host moulds and fungi that may travel further up the branch and even kill young shrubs.
Wait until the ground feels warm. Don't be seduced by midday mild breezes. Those plant roots will be cold at midnight, and the buds possibly white by morning, and then brown.
This IS a good time for the other garden projects you haven't got around to, This "new normal" warm winter gives us gloriously sunny days to work in the garden.
Consider a cubby, the kind made with a dozen planks and a ladder, not the pre-fab kind that the kids will use twice and the rats, mice and occasional snake may decide to use as their new residence.
Kids need a cubby they've helped build, even if they just hand you the hammer. You can pretend a plank-type cubby is a submarine or a rocket heading to mars. A pre-fab cubby will always be a not-quite house, a shed by any other name, and boring.
Or plan a pergola. Every house needs a pergola, even if I have removed the top of mine because it had become a highway for possums and bush rats. Ours just should have been a little further out from the house. Grapevines, hop vines, roses or kiwi fruit will clamber upwards, shading you in summer and providing a delightful place to sit and drink something cool. The leaves will fall in autumn - brilliantly orange-red if you choose an ornamental grape, or giving you fruit if you're growing a male and a couple of female kiwi vines or grapes.
Plant an arbour over the front gate so the scent of roses welcomes any guest, while large items can still be brought up the driveway. Grow strawberries in the middle of the driveway - they won't mind if a car is parked over them at night, as long as it doesn't leak oil.
Browse giant pots in the garden centre, keeping firmly away from the plants section so you aren't tempted.
If cash is limited, ask your local café for any large empty cans about to be thrown out, the kind filled with bulk olives or baby potatoes. Place a few holes in the base, then paint the cans all one colour, if like me you have the artistic ability of an exceptionally inept cane toad. Or get the kids to paint and decorate them, which will give you at least two hours free to put your feet up with a coffee and The Canberra Times.
Think of a garden feature you have envied, be it a frog pond or a trompe l'oeil painted wall to make your garden seem to extend into a Bordeaux vineyard or even to dinosaurs wallowing in a pool in the Cretaceous period.
Consider a solar-powered wall fountain. There will be sunlight to spare this summer, and the sound of recycled trickling water will be a comfort, as would that grey-blue stone creek that never dries up, but wanders for decades through your garden.
