Six on Saturday – Rumours

There have been rumours that a smidgeon of the wet stuff might, and I emphasise, “might” be on its way. For this I will be grateful, although it will be a drop in an ocean of want. Things have progressed beyond wilting and irritating watering marathons into horror. This morning there is the scent of smoke in the air. How some people cannot acknowledge the seriousness of the situation is a complete mystery. I am amazed by the foolishness of my fellow humans and the apparent ease that they believe convenient untruths. Habitats, native flora and fauna, livelihoods, homes, ourselves and are neighbours are all in jeopardy. It is not about getting a healthy suntan. Some, unfortunately, are still relishing the bronzing opportunity.

SoS is about our gardens and our lives around these sometime oases. The truth is that I am loathe to venture out into my garden these days. I don’t have the resources to irrigate my whole garden, there will undoubtedly be fatalities, but I believe these losses are insignificant considering the catastrophic destruction already rent in the country. These times are extraordinary in the land of fair to middling.

I wasn’t going to be doomy and then it happened, I couldn’t help myself. If you would like to share other SoS perspectives, likely more jolly, from across the world pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations, I’m sure there will be a smile somewhere.

We had better get on before we are all despairing.

Salvia ‘Neon’ is ticking along quite nicely, although very leggy. Again the pink is not remotely like real life.

I’ve got a few zinnia in a planter which get the odd dribble of water. I’m a big fan of these annuals. They are possibly not a fan of me.

In the front, I loathe to call it garden as it more like a corridor, amongst the ferns and hostas there are a three pots of begonias. They are doing just fine with a little help from spent kitchen water. Sometimes it pays to loiter close to a kitchen. In my experience, it is often a good choice.

A hypericum hedge, in situ when we arrived, has recently had a trim. I’m not a big fan of St John’s Wort, for ridiculous reasons. No sign of stress here though. Cut me and I will flower.

New Guinea Impatiens, again in the front, never let me down.

Rosa ‘Absolutely Fabulous’, like most of the roses is doing ok, in the flowering department anyway.

Forgive me my grouchiness, I know I am preaching to the choir. Please humour me and tell me a joke.

Six on Saturday – Mickey

It rained and we celebrated. Tuesday, on the way to work, there was a proper downpour, the windscreen wipers were confused. When I reached my destination, I rang OH “Is it raining there?”, “I’m afraid not, just grey and threatening” was the answer. Disappointment. On the way home at the end of the day once more it did its best. This time our garden was blessed. In truth it barely touched the surface, but in the moment the joy was real. I’m hoping that our Six on Saturday leader, Jim from Garden Ruminations, has similarly been rewarded. Every little helps. Let’s get SoSing, I cannot neglect my rain dance duties.

Magnolia stellata has produced a flower. I’m not sure that I should be pleased about this. In my travels I have noticed a few other magnolias having a second flush, I know this is not unusual but there seem to be more than in past years. Everything is out of sorts.

I always do this, I get so excited by a new flower that instead of waiting for it to come to peak beauty I share it when it is just getting going. This is Cuphea ‘Sweet Talk Lavender Splash’ (please forgive the ridiculous name). I like it. I’m sure it will get better.

Gertie is having another go, she really is a super trooper.

When I saw a plant labelled “vinca” in the garden centre I took a double take. No normal periwinkle, this is Catharanthus roseus, a fabulous plant that I have grown before. Native to Madagascar, and indeed once called vinca, it possesses many medicinal wonders traits and of course is rather beautiful. Unfortunately, it is also extremely tender. I will enjoy it whilst I can.

One of the chosen ones, ie the watered few, is Abutilon ‘Souvenir de Bonn’. The flower is thanks enough for its exclusive care.

Although I am over the moon about the fruit on Melon ‘Charentais’ I am less than thrilled that it appears that Mickey Mouse has moved into the greenhouse. He has been nibbling on the ripe tomatoes and gnawing on my prize melon. Of course there is no firm evidence that Mr M is the culprit, but I have strong suspicions. Lupin seeds have been chomped off as they germinate. Classic mousey behaviour. I can’t blame wildlife for finding solace in a nice juicy tomato, but please spare the gardener’s favourite!

Six on Saturday – Tricky

It is almost as tricky as midwinter to find subjects for Six on Saturday at the moment. I am hopeful that the crisp and dry victims of this drought will spring Lazarus like from their parched graves. This might be foolish, we will see. It is all new ground for us temperature softies. All we can do is our best. I’m sure that is what all of us SoSers are doing, whether it is enough remains to be seen. My special “estate agent” shots have managed to show only the vaguely attractive, ignoring the rest whilst weeping snottily into my sleeve. I was tempted to show you the carnage but, raised on Dairylea and Disney, decided the more positive is best shown. If you would like to find out what other challenges are being faced across the world pop over to our mentor, Jim at Garden Ruminations. Let us shake a leg, there is watering to be done.

Although a little cooler this past week, flowers seem to be going over very quickly. I don’t even recall this Rosa ‘Peace’ being in bud again, now it is in full blown beauty. Seize the moment.

I have said before that I try to avoid plants with challenging names. This is one of the many that have made my rule a fallacy, Erodium manescavii, which although the foliage has browned up a little, seems to be weathering the inclement weather very nicely.

Earworm warning: Its been a good year for the tomatoes. These are Cosmonaut, my first year of growing them and I’m very impressed. This is a Ukranian heirloom variety named after a Russian cosmonaut who died returning to Earth in 1971. Lots to chew over there.

A recent addition to the clan is Fuchsia ‘Coralle’ which has been given priority treatment. At times like this there have to be Teacher’s Pets and those that are left to fend for themselves. Harsh but unavoidable in our garden where the watering can rules and the water meter snipes.

Ageratum mexicanum is a little beauty; a lilac raggedy lovely.

Finally we have Dahlia ‘Labyrinth’; such a joy monster and surely enough to lift the darkest of spirits.

Six on Saturday – Frazzled

It has another challenging week. I am very bored with the relentless heat and lack of rain. I am even more bored with the weather people telling us that it is going to cool down. Which quite frankly is fibbing. My garden is frazzled. I am frazzled. Still, there have been good things going on. Peggy had her birthday. It can be no coincidence that it falls on the anniversary of the Storming of the Bastille. Ninety eight and still giving me gip, still happy to do a little storming. Our SoS shepherd Jim at Garden Ruminations is guardian of the Six on Saturday community, pop over to his site to find contributors from across the universe. Shall we proceed, there is watering to be done.

The first sunflower of the year is standing up well to the stresses of our current clime. Although much has drooped in the borders, and I am loathe to water them, the garden is full of insects at the moment. With gritted teeth I must confess that the teasels are the main attraction at the moment.

I really struggled with my photos today. I went out twice, both sets were rubbish, quite frankly my dear I didn’t give a damn. See what this weather is doing to me! Rosa ‘Grace’ is having a second flush. I couldn’t get too close because I had a teasel in an inappropriate place. It give me a chance to practice my most flowery language, most of it directed at the Teasel King.

This canna was a gift from Welsh John. I have forgotten its name and I was too battle scarred to face the spikey ones again to find the label.

On safer ground once more, Salvia microphylla ‘Trelissick’ is fairing well. After the winter it was looking very ropey so I took some cuttings with the plan to replace the mother plant. Cuttings – fried, Mother – thriving.

I do love a gazania, my annual of choice, along with cosmos and marigolds. Even they are struggling and they get an ocassional dribble of water to keep them going. I have begun to daydream about Ice Cold in Alex.

Whilst all else struggles, a pile of garden compost, exposed to sun and wind, has germinated a sunflower. You have to respect the effort.

The seventh and most important picture this week, although illicit, is of the most magnificent Maggie. The dearest and most beautiful lass, and an integral part of my nephew, his lovely wife and little girls’ household. Tragically and heartbreakingly she died this week. Her soul was pure and flowed with love and fun and mischief, and this magic rippled through our family in the most joyful way. There will be some people who don’t understand the delight and the agony of sharing your life with a four legged friend. It is undoubtedly worth it, but at times like this it seems otherwise. The cost of loving sometimes seems too harsh. I hope you are in a better place, Maggie Moo, eating roast potatoes and gravy. We will miss you, lovely girl.

National Garden Scheme – Concerns

My morning inspection at Blaen Cwmdu Farm did not go well today. I was left with more concerns than ever for our NGS September opening. I’m sure this will not be the last time I will feel this way. In fact it is probably healthy. Torture is traditional in the lead up to the big open day, becoming incrementally more painful as the weeks pass by. Remind me again why we are doing this?

The problem is that everything is looking too good. Despite the weather, or perhaps because of it, everything is flowering well and early. Too well, too early. By late summer/early autumn surely all will be spent, exhausted, shadows of their former selves. Husks, desolation and weeping gardeners are all that will remain to entertain our visitors.

Of course, all is not lost. I have been trying my best to combat the dreadful prospect of public ridicule. Dead heading, of course. I’ve also been chopping back perennials as soon as the last bloom even thinks about fading, then feeding and watering well, in the hope that they will feel fit to perform an encore. We also have plenty of late seasoners, including salvias and dahlias, ornamental grasses and foliage plants which should provide plenty of interest. Just in case, I will also practice my cartwheels and tap dancing in the slim chance that a diversion is needed.

The cardoon’s violet flat top is in full flower for the first time and will by September have morphed into a stand of tanned sculptural thistles. Earlier, I went looking for an apian photo opportunity knowing they are catnip for bees. Trying to angle my phone to capture the ecstatic insects, I noticed something unfamiliar fluttering in the corner of my sightline. A hummingbird hawk-moth! I was absolutely thrilled. I felt honoured by this apparent approval from a hhm. And it was also a reminder that this is a garden teeming with life, supported by our planting and the wild areas that surround the more formal places. It occurred to me that this is far more important in the scheme of things. This is why we do it.

The fear of what is or what is not flowering in nine weeks time must not sully my time in the garden. It is good now, far from perfect, but we have come a long way. And I’ve always found perfect to be boring. By September it will be splendid and if for some reason is isn’t then I’m sure the cake will be wonderful.

Six on Saturday – Here we go again

On a personal level, it is hard to be a gardener in this weather. Relentless watering whilst attempting to be frugal with supplies, relentless rehydrating of not only plants but self. Skulking in the shadows as much as possible, worrying about which plants will survive and if precious ones will succumb. Wondering exactly what constitutes a client’s definition of “I’ve done the watering”.

On a world level, it is scary stuff. What we are experiencing here at the moment is so much more than just a few uncomfortable nights and Waterers’ Elbow, we are on fire and it is only going to get worse. “Plant more adaptable plants” they say – unicorns that can cope with excessive winter wet and extreme summer temperatures and drought. No talk of soothing our affliction by planting shade trees, baning plastic grass, reducing our greedy consumption. Some are griping about not being able to wash the car with a hosepipe, let me tell you, that is going to be least of your problems. Time to look on the bright side? It is going to be tricky today but I will do my best. If you want to see how other gardeners are coping with their particular lots, pop over to Jim at Garden Rumination for some more positive messages.

Ever optimistic nasturtium. I spotted this one lurking in the shadows when I was putting the washing out this morning. It doesn’t look quite so special as I thought. The teeth look splendid though.

These pretty pinks, again, don’t appear quite the same as the image in my head or indeed in my eye.

There are far too many teasels in this garden. They are OH’s favourites. He is greatly looking forward to the return of the goldfinches. I have, often surreptitiously, culled them. Still they dominate, still they come up, still I weed them. In true wildlife photographer style I waited patiently for a bee to come and pose on this flower. After 30 seconds I got bored, you will have to use your imagination.

Tagetes, fabulous. Makes me feel a little better.

Other worldly, intriguing, wonderful; your name is eucomis.

I grew this Dahlia coccinea var. palmeri from seed last year. It over wintered well and has begun to flower. I do love an orange flower.

Today I watched swifts carousing above the garden, joining the house martins that have been in town for a few months now. They were enjoying the insects that our full to bursting garden have encouraged.

Today I publically bemoaned the obsessive mowing on the estate where previously meadows had been allowed to thrive.

There is so much we can do. We must keep keeping on.

Lighthearted, fun-filled Gill is having a break at the moment. Hopefully she will be back next week.

Lost and Found

I hold my hand up, my name is Gill and I am a plantaholic. Our garden is very small and juvenille, just three years old. Already it is packed to the gunnels, perhaps a little over the gunnels. There are plants in the borders, in terracotta pots, in horrid plastic pots, in a barrel, plants waiting to go in the ground or to be potted on, some waiting to go to clients, plants in the greenhouse, some in the narrow strip at the front of the house and down the side in the resting/holding area, plants absolutely everywhere. But still it is not enough. There is a self inflicted duty of care, however, all these lovelies should be cared for and nurtured. Often I fall a little short of the mark.

My memory is just fine, where most of the garden residents are concerned, but occasionally I will wake in the night and think “whatever happened to ….”. I have been mourning the loss of Fuchsia fulgens, a plant that I grew and loved at Cliffe and managed to source again last year. It did well in its new home and flowered beautifully, I just couldn’t believe that I didn’t have winter-cossetted backups. But then again, it could have slipped through the net. Must try harder.

It is time to introduce you to one of my horti-drug dealers, Alan from Alan’s Tropical Plants, from whom I have in the past satiated my need, if only temporarily. On Wednesday I was taking a sneaky look on his website and Fuchsia fulgens was in stock. As this was where I had got my last specimen, one click and it was in my basket. No harm in taking a look at what else tickled my fancy. Oh dear, it seems a lot. I took a deep breath, deleted more than half whilst gently weeping, and pressed “buy”.

Friday, returning from watering the greenhouse, a virtual spotlight highlighted a Fuchsia fulgens-esque plant in a group of pots. I peered closer and low and behold, a very healthy looking, just about to flower FF, had been hiding in plain sight! For weeks I had been confusing it with another fuchsia. Silly Gilly.

On the off-chance that my order was not quite set in stone, I emailed Alan to confess my stupidity and asked whether or not I could swap out FF for something else. Luckily, I had a long list of suggestions that had earlier been deleted from my shopping list. Very quickly I had a reply, “no problem, which substitute would you like?”. More decisions, I plumped on a salvia, a gal can never have too many salvias. This morning a cheery knock at the door behind which was the smiling face of Paul the delivery driver presenting me with a beautiful box of goodies. And what is more, Alan popped in a freebie from my previous list.

The worth of these fine folk, and all those like them, should be sung from the rooftops. Healthy happy plants, slightly left field selection, fantastic service, local business and reasonable prices. When compared with many other, often large and corporate, concerns, they are crossing the finishing line whilst the rest are lagging behind studying their profits. I am very happy I came across Alan’s nursery, I am yet to visit in person, it is not too far away, but it is definitely on the cards. There is no doubt that I will be back on-line, having a look, just in case there is something I fancy. I also have no doubt that there will be.

As to what these new acquisitions are, you will have to wait to find out. For the moment the itch has been scratched. It can’t last.

Six on Saturday – Did I miss anything?

I was AWOL last week: stuff happening, good and otherwise, mainly good, often mundane, in my fleeting absence did I miss anything? At this time of year the weeks fly by in a blur. I’m not keen on this seasonal hyperdrive. Why should these summer days be will’o’the’wisps when the inclement one are extended? It seems cruel. Let us get on, before we know it it will be next week. If you wish to know more about Six on Saturday then pop over to Jim’s manor and all will be revealed.

Francoa sonchifolia has popped its head through the chaos known as The Bed of Anarchy. Top marks.

I lost quite a few bits and bobs last winter, one of which was Digitalis isabelliana ‘Bella’. As a grown up and very sensible gardener I had a cutting in the relative safety of the greenhouse. This survivor is now flowering. It is not offering up any propagation material. I probably should remove this bloom and let it bulk up. Not so much the grown up now am I?

Another fabulous daylily, Hemerocallis ‘Yabba Dabba Doo’. I am rather fond of dark, dark flowers.

Did I ever know the name of this watsonia? Possibly. Does it need dividing? Definitely.

Tulbaghia cominsii is new to the garden this year. I wasn’t sure that it would flower, but I’m very pleased that it did.

I’m thrilled that the Colquhounia coccinea has flowered this year. I think it enjoyed the hot weather. Such a beauty.

There we have it, another six, another Saturday. Happy Fourth of July!

Six on Saturday – Pottering

I think it was a good week. I can’t remember it being anything other than that. I did some gardening, some not gardening (rained off) and some peripheral stuff. No drama, just pottering along. Which is fine by me, although perhaps a little boring for you. If you would like to join the Six on Saturday Society, the first 50 years are subscription free, or just have a nose at what is happening in a select group of gardens across the world, then pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations. Let us get on.

I cannot pretend that I bought Pelargonium ‘Crocodile’ for was any other reason than its wonderful name. It turns out that not only does it have the most intriguing foliage, the flowers are the clearest candy pink that you ever did see. Sometimes things work out for the best.

The hairy seedpods of Meconopsis ‘Lingholm’ are looking promising. I must be ever vigilant and catch them at the perfect moment. Chances?

Where there is a will there is a way. Salvia ‘Nachtvlinder’ has squeezed through the lemon verbena and Broussonetia papyrifer to find the light of day. Darwin would have been proud.

A new addition is this little Sorrel ‘Red Lava’. Pretty and tasty. I’m not going to say “like me” although I am very tempted.

The label on this little beauty is long gone. I’m going to call it Rhodohypoxis baurii which is a half guess. Whatever its name, it has lastest well this year, flowering for far longer than usual.

A great joy in my horti-year is when the daylilies begin to flower. This is also the time when I recommend Pollie for anyone who wants to dive into the spectacular world that she inhabits. I came home from a day away to find Hemerocallis ‘Nona’s Garnet’ making its annual appearance. It was a “halt you in your tracks” moment. Fabulous.

There we have it, another six completed. Next week I shall be sad as the solstice will have passed. I will try to be chipper.

National Garden Scheme – An uneasy harmony

Another week has passed and we are inching, or should that be centimetering, towards Blaen Cwndu September NGS opening date. The summer solstice looms, reminding us, all to clearly, of the inevitable decent into autumn. I hate midsummer. Perhaps hate is too strong a word, but it certainly unsettles me. The switch in my head flips from “all is possible” to “all is unlikely”. Things seem a little bit more complicated.

I often think it unfair to label our garden adversaries as “pests”. They are just doing what they can to survive in this world, just as we are. We should try to live in harmony. Then the slugs eat the beans and the aphids infest all, the caterpillars eat the verbascum and my rose tinted glasses tumble to the ground and are stamped upon. Suddenly it all seems a little bit more difficult.

Then a rose such as this begins to bloom and I realise that perhaps things aren’t so bad after all. We are all in the same boat; wins and losses, success and failure, we are in the lap of the horti-gods. It generally evens out in the end. What will be, will be. Please keep reminding me.