Cutting back the hedge

When we first moved in here, there was a sort of hedge and fence around the garden. Overgrown elder, dead elm, and a mix of fence materials ranging from corrugated iron panels to iron railings to lengths of loosely anchored chicken wire. It was a mess.

We spent our first year getting rid of the scraps of makeshift fencing. We talked to our neighbours and got their agreement to put in a proper fence, one that straightened out the boundary rather than wandering in a wavy line.

The second and third winters we planted a hedge all the way around, both sides and across the top. Bare-root trees; mainly British native species, chosen for a mix of attractive bark, fruits for the birds, nuts for all kinds of wildlife and bright leaf colours in autumn. We planned to keep it trimmed to six feet in height.

It was slow getting going. Six or seven years after the original hedge went in, some of the plants had managed to get to six feet tall. The next we knew we had some seriously tall trees. It’s settled into a constant battle in autumn and early winter – cutting down the plants to as close to six foot tall as we can get. Whoever encouraged us to get dogrose and hawthorn as a kind of natural barbed wire should come back here and give us a hand.

It’s been mild and sunny most of the day, and there’s been bees bothering the flowers on the elaeagnus. I’ve found one borage plant still stubbornly flowering in the hedge, and the honeysuckle’s back in flower. More like early spring than November, and I’m not going to complain.

Wet days

We got some work done in the garden, at the expense of wet feet and damp knees. It’s a sombre time of year. The brilliantly coloured leaves have largely been blown off their trees and into soggy browning piles, everywhere is damp and there are very few vegetables still growing.

Whatever prompted me to grow cabbages this year was spot on in one way – they’re coming up a treat, close-packed heads and all. Now I have to face the fact that I don’t use enough cabbage to make full use of them. I have offered them elsewhere, but it seems they aren’t that popular. This week’s challenge is to find a recipe for cabbage that we enjoy eating. Any suggestions, Mr Slater?

On the plus side, it does mean a lot of time to get on with Nano. We swapped prompts in our writing group and I spotted one that gave me an idea. Eighteen thousand words on, it’s still going strong. Which is what I’m going to do now.

What started all this?

I’ve been part of an OU graduates’ writing group since 2010, contributing to their anthologies of short stories and poetry in 2014 and 2015.

I didn’t take writing too seriously while I was in paid employment – holiday diaries, OU courses, small competitions. As other members of the group began to succeed in their writing careers, they suggested that I might join them in the blog race.

I have a few publishing credits – a dozen short stories in various anthologies, a couple of competition wins and shortlisted places. I’m hoping to publish my first novel early in 2026; the first two chapters took third place in the Scottish Association of Writers’ Constable Stag competition, and I have been working to improve the whole work ever since.