Gardening lessons learned

I've never been big on New Year resolutions. Generally I'm too busy around that time for navel gazing, and anyway the only worthwhile resolution is to remember what your resolutions were, and who can be bothered with that?
So this year I've decided to reflect on lessons I have learned about our garden over the past year in the hope that it might stop them from falling out of my brain.
My biggest learning curve has been to do with rain, or the lack thereof. Having been a cat in a former life I'm not keen on being wet, so predictions of a summer drought always have me secretly smiling behind my hand. But even though it's rather pleasant standing in the garden pointing the hose, there is a limit to how often you want to do that, and after four dry weeks I reached my limit.

Lesson 1
No matter how desperate you are to create new areas of planting, only plant out what you have the time and energy to water.
Otherwise you'll spend every other day scurrying round the garden for hours at a time, dragging a disobedient hose from one tree to another, and wondering whether weight loss may be the only bright side to this inexorable activity. (Obviously this does not apply if you live in an area where normal rainfall occurs.) If you absolutely can't resist buying something new, plant it alongside other new things so it gets watered at the same time.
Lesson 2

Do not believe any advertising for a hose that purports to be kink-free, unless it costs more than $70. That $25 bargain from you-know-where will be anything but kink-free, unless it has been lying in the hot sun all day. If you want kink-free, or at least kink-resistant, pay for it.

Lesson 3
Only attack one manageable sized piece of garden at a time. Clearing a massive area means you will either have to splash out the price of a small car to buy enough plants to fill it, or by the time you've planted a tenth of it, the rest will be covered in gorse, ginger, oxalis, tradescantia and their friends, and you will have to start again.
Lesson 4
If you buy cheap and stressed plants from the specials bin, be prepared to compost, fertilise, mulch, water, sing to and stroke them for several weeks, possibly months, before they show the slightest bit of gratitude. But don't give up.
Give stuff a chance. I planted four exhausted olive trees last April and within days three of them had new growth. The fourth flattened its leaves and went into a coma until it was overcome by the Christmas spirit and spat out several new leaves.
Lesson 5
Experiment with ideas that don't cost anything. I broke a heap of twigs off a knackered hibiscus and simply stuck them in the ground and most of them are making new leaves. One has even offered up a tiny hibiscus flower. I am utterly charmed.

Lesson 6
Plant things that are suitable for your family. Bougainvillea may look great but it's mean to pets, small children and tipsy adults. Spiky plants have an unerring instinct for where your eyes are.
Lesson 7
Don't waste food. I was about to rip out a pumpkin that self-seeded into the centre of the lawn, and while it's not exactly conveniently located, it has grown to the size of Mount Maunganui and given birth to more pumpkins that we are likely to eat in a decade. They'll taste a lot better than the lawn would.
Lesson 8
I have a grey-green ground cover in my garden which has performed beyond my wildest dreams, but neither I nor my favourite nurseryman can identify it.
So do not trash the tags that identify plants you're unlikely to remember the names of. Even if you don't want to leave them on the plants, write on them where in the garden the plant is, and put them in a drawer. Then when you suddenly decide you can't live without another one of those ... those ... What is that thing again? ... you'll know what to ask for.
Lesson 9
If you are painting a wall, a garden seat or anything that has a top and sides, paint the top first. By the time you've finished the sides the top will be touch dry and it won't matter if the cat gets on it once you've gone inside for a gin.
Lesson 10
Do not get wildly overexcited when you find dozens of tiny seedlings under your silk tree. Before you make a complete fool of yourself by lovingly transplanting them into seed trays, check the surrounding 300sq km for wattle.