This week presented both challenges and achievements. I had a short stint in the doldrums which has now been replaced by my usual “annoyingly positive”. The sun shone and the hail hailed. Jumpers were on, jumpers were off. Work has been great. Things are eventually moving in a happy direction, but sadly Welsh Ann had to be cancelled due to more car problems. Cars; my nemesis, or one of them anyway.
Less rambling, more Six on Saturday! Check out Jim to find others sharing their gardens and thoughts.
The unforgotten tulips are still cocking a snook at my pot emptying abilities. No complaints here, it is an added bonus.
Can we better early season acer foliage? Unlikely.
Anemone nemorosa ‘Robinsonia’ is not flowering well this year, but enough to remind me just why I love it.
The hellebores have had a splendid season. Not only floriferous but long lived. We are standing on the precipice and it feels good.
Spuds! The annual totally uncompetitive, just for fun, to the death, spud growing competition has commence Chez Nous. This year the variety is Pink Fir Apple. May the best person win, who is called Gill.
Finally, the most popular and most worthy, Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’. It symbolises a line crossed and I am very happy for the fact.
I’ve checked and recounted and there are six photos and it is Saturday. Job done!
The prospect of Storm Kathleen hovers. She is the 11th named storm of the year and will undoubtedly bringing mayhem and destruction in her skirt tails. Which is ample excuse to have taken photos on Friday when the weather, though gusty and showery, was a little more well mannered. Looking out of the office window this morning, there is no sign of chaos or even a breath of wind, perhaps this is the proverbial “calm before the storm”. Perhaps she changed her mind, oh fickle storm! If you wish to get weather reports from across the globe, and the odd plant or six, pop over to Grand Master Sos, it will be an education. Shall we begin?
First we have Impatiens omeiana, looking it’s early season best, reveling in the persistent rain. It should have been moved, I don’t like it where it is because the leaf is too similar the rhody next to it. But wasn’t because I didn’t do it. Mañana.
It is mushroom compost time of year again. Welsh John gets a couple of pallets and myself and Welsh Ann have 10 bags each. It is delicious. You know if you know.
Erythronium californicum ‘White Beauty’ – not quite white but definitely a beauty.
We have a pair of wood pigeons who visit the garden, they are called Mr and Mrs Einstein. They potter about looking a bit vacant, eating fallen seed from the feeders. It seems that fresh hosta is rather tempting.
I was going to call this blog Bring Out Your Dead but thought better of it. Space in the greenhouse is becoming sparce and these pelargoniums have been ejected due to not making an effort to live.
Finally we have Ribes x gordonianum, syn R. x beatonii. More understated than Ribes sanguineum, but just as lovely.
That is all, hope the storm passes you by unharmed. Must rush, my boiled egg is ready!
Are we there yet? Not quite. After a balmy t-shirt day yesterday, today the wind is bitter and showers are forecast. I must remind myself it is still March and be patient. Easier said than done. Still, plants continue to nudge above the surface and buds are swelling, in spite of the gardener’s fussing. And it is becoming increasingly easier to produce a Six on Saturday. Ever a sign of progress. If you would like to meet other SoSers, and indeed the Grand Vizier himself, then pop over to Jim’s and you can enjoy them at your leisure. Shall we shake a leg?
This year I didn’t buy any new tulips and last years’ withered and rotted. My lack of enthusiasm was partly due to the millions I planted in other peoples’ gardens and I am not a keen bulb planter. A few have popped up that I missed when bringing them in for storage. Here is one, name unknown, Survivor would be apt.
The Anemone blanda, have been battered and bruised but soldier on regardless. I love this little beauty.
One day a sweet little seedling, the next a rampant, plant-suffocating mass of orange and yellow. We will never be without nasturtium and I’m very pleased for it.
Omphalodes cappadocia, a wonderful name, a beautiful plant.
Finally, our mini Magnolia stellata has its first flower and I am a very proud parent. Pink tinged and perfect, it is all I had hoped it would be. On an adjacent branch, a sibling is waiting for its time to shine. Just two this year. I am hopeful for next year.
All done, who knows what is waiting in the wings for next time.
I forgot the viola! Thanks to The Prof for pointing it out. This is a viola, another self-seeder, this time in the colocasia pot in the greenhouse. Quite how I could have forgotten it, I have no idea, it is so pretty.
The incessant inertia of winter’s chilly wind and rain is eventually showing signs of let-up. In the past week there have been hints that all will be well. These might have been mere glimpses of hope that the ground will one day not be sodden, a jumper will not be needed and the bare earth will be covered. And a glimpse is all I need. Shall we get on Six on Saturdaying? If you are new to this SoS malarky, Jim at Garden Ruminations will set you right, all are welcome.
The Pyrus ‘Chanticleer’ is flowering well after its severe flat top in the autumn. On many occasions throughout the gale-full months we have said “thank goodness the tree was pruned”. It is still No. 1 hangout venue for the sparrows, great and blue tits and starlings. Sometimes a sparrowhawk comes to play too.
This colour!
The peach is flowering very well, could this be the year we actually get a fruit? It will get my undivided attention, I will answer to its every whim and fancy, I will (as Jean-Luc Picard would say) “make it so”. There may be tears.
Muscari latifolium, possibly the best grape hyacinth in the world.
This year we seem to have lots of self-sown honesty, Lunaria annua. The first summer we were here I planted ‘Corfu Blue’, obtained from plant maestro Welsh John. I am sure these are this plant’s offspring, how much they look like their mum, I can’t tell you. Still, they are very pretty.
Finally, this Ribes sanguineum ‘King Edward VII’ was purloined at dead of night from The Prof’s garden. And yes, I was wearing a balaclava and black catsuit.
That is your lot, have a great week and look out for the glimmers.
Another balmy week, with mixed fortunes. Things are moving on; every day a little longer even if not a little brighter. Seeds have been sown, pots watched, germinations welcomed with joy. The garden is sodden but the greenhouse is an oasis. Still, the threat of cold lingers. That is about it. Our Six on Saturday host is Jim at Garden Ruminations, pop over to his site – just a minute, not yet! Wait until you’ve read mine. I’ll remind you again at the end, just in case you forget. Let’s proceed with sixing on Saturday …..
First we have the anemone that has been trying to flower for a few weeks. I don’t think this photo would appear in any advertising campaign. Battered and bruised but ten out of ten for effort.
The Pyrus ‘Chanticleer’ blossom buds are swelling expectantly. It won’t be too long before the local pollinators are enjoying their bounty.
As Shania sang “you’re still the one I run to”, my favourite daff, Tête-à-tête, is just beginning to flower.
I have left most of the seed heads in situ, for the wildlife to enjoy, harvesting only those I needed for myself. This dahlia is now attention seeking, having been ignored by both the gatherer and the birds, it has decided to do it for itself. Vivipary, the name for this phenomenon, is a rather wonderful word, don’t you think?
I do love a hyacinth and I do love blue. I doubly love this.
Finally Ipheion uniflorum ‘Wisley Blue’, which is looking rather pale and interesting at the moment. I don’t remember it flowering last year and it is looking rather jammed into its pot. The question is “is it flowering because it is happy, or is it flowering because it is sad?”. And “if I repot/divide up will it flower next year?”. Fraught with uncertainty.
All done, the end of another six, you are dismissed. Now pop over to Jim’s and see what the gang are up to.
After a self-awarded sabbatical, I returned to work this week with a squelch. Still, it could have been an awful lot worse, it could have rained on Wednesday as well. This positive thinking is 100% due to having had a month off. I am refreshed. Ask me my thoughts again in a couple of weeks. Only joking, my mindset has swerved from “we’re all doomed” in late December to “anything is possible” in early February. There is no place for medians. If you wish to find out more about Six on Saturday and revel in other SoSers’ gardens then pop over to Jim’s at Garden Ruminations and all will be revealed. Now, star jumps everyone, it’s nearly spring!
First we have Apple Mint, putting on some new growth after a mild but wet few weeks. I’ve got a few different mints; ginger, chocolate and pineapple but never use them for anything other than decoration. Ideas anyone?
I was surprised that this yellow flowered Eccremocarpus scaber has cocked-a-snook at the freezing conditions earlier in the winter. The temperature fell to -4.8C in the greenhouse, so I would imagine it was much colder out in the wilds. It was grown from seed and in turn produced lots of its own seed last summer. I have redistributed some of this wealth, hoping others might enjoy this exotic and apparently tough specimen. I’m going to sow some myself and will be interested to see what colour they turn out to be. Yellow was a bit of a surprise.
Photinia ‘Pink Marble’ was bought specifically for winter interest in the garden, which was definitely lacking last year. It is looking a little rough around the edges, possibly frost damage, and it hasn’t grown as much as I had hoped it would. Still, where there is life there is hope, and a nice feed and some kind words and I’m sure it will try much harder.
Hands up, who forgot to put the sempervivum under cover? Hands up, who, even though they specifically meant to put it under cover after the photo was taken, forgot once more? Mañana
Another plant bought for both its winter interest ie evergreen foliage and general loveliness, is Lomatia ferruginea. Again, I was hoping for a little more growth, but it was in competition with the usual thugs that I like to hang out with, bidens, dahlia, salvia and other ne’er-do-wells. I will pay it more mind this year.
Finally, Galanthus ‘S. Arnott’, the epitome of snowdropicity. The late winter blooms have taken a severe battering recently, fallen crocus and Iris reticulata are sad sights to bloom-starved eyes. This tough snowdrop has held its own against the elements and is all the more precious for the fact.
All done, Six on Saturday complete for another week. Have a good one!
A few years ago I started, with great aplomb, the Great Monthly Book Giveaway. I was to give away a book each month and write about both recipient and tome. Even if you couldn’t be bothered to follow the link, you clever folk would have guessed as much. It fizzled out after a short while, I was possibly distracted by a kitten or puppy, or perhaps a plant sale. To mark nothing in particular, I have decided to relaunch the concept, with less expectation of myself, as The Random Book Giveaway. This could refer to either the randomness of the book or the frequency of my gifts. All bases covered.
First we have the book, The Library – A Fragile History by Andrew Pettegree and Arthur Der Weduwen. I have been interested in manuscripts, both aesthetically and historically, for many years, have read several books on the subject and have admired examples in all their glorious splendour at The British Library. This book was a natural progression and is as comprehensive as it is captivating. It covers passion and politics, war and wealth, heartbreaking wonton destruction, acquisitiveness and art. Through the centuries, from scrolls to digital readers, it is a thoroughly entrancing and accessible read.
Next we have the recipient, Maggie. I first met Maggie when she worked at one of my favourite places, for both the plants and people, Marwood Hill Gardens, in North Devon. We were forever bumping into each other at various horti-events and she was always kind to point out if I was wearing a piece of clothing back-to-front or inside out, which admittedly is not a rare occurence. Despite all this, we didn’t become proper friends, not in the “here, have my number, let us meet for coffee/wine/chat” kind of way. However, I always felt it was on the cards, just around the corner, she was fun and bright and I liked her. Then we moved to South Wales and the moment passed.
Or did it? As luck would have it, we found each other again on-line and discovered we both had an interest in manuscripts and the like. Who’d have guessed? We took an on-line course together, on Anglo-Saxon art, although I played truant often, true to form. Other things too, it seems, we have in common; a love of art and poetry and wildlife. Virtual friends we will have to be, for the foreseeable future. But I think that is OK, although I will miss the coffee/wine/chat and it will be tricky when it comes to righting my wardrobe. It will have to suffice.
Now you have been introduced to both book and person, I hope you agree, that this will be a perfect match. The Library and Maggie, I know that she will love it, just as I did. I certainly hope so.
We have been away. Down to my spiritual homeland, Cornwall. We met up with old friends, which involved a combination of reminiscing and catching up on news, accompanied by much laughter and carousing. We revisited old haunts of mine, after all these years now shared with OH, retracing younger steps with more scuffed shoes. As luck would have it, our holiday rental in Penzance was a mere stones throw from the marvelous Morrab Gardens. I couldn’t have been happier. My six this week are all from this splendid public space. Our SoS leader, Jim, will, I’m sure, forgive me for going off piste. Shall we get on, I’m late enough already!
First we have the bandstand and a handful of the large exotic specimens that make Morrab so special. West Cornwall is particularly clement weatherwise and I was reminded how much more they can grow compared to us, just up the road, in South Wales.
Fuchsia splendens was flowering well. Since we left, there have been several days of heavy frost and freezing temperatures and I wonder how this lovely fuchsia has fared. Still, it was protected in the shade of a mature tree and I am sure it will recover, however crispy it might be now.
I was thrilled when we first arrived to see the flowering spike of Furcraea longaeva heavy with mini-me plantlets on a border just before our rental home. I gave it a surreptitious shake and filled my pockets with the resultant pennies from heaven. Later, I noticed they were reproducing in planting schemes throughout the town and further. Not so special after all! Planting these little ‘uns is on the list of things to do.
One for Jim here. There were lots of camellia, but this little one caught my eye. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a label. Any idea, maestro?
I am guessing this is Grevillea rosmarinifolia, the most amazing, perfectly arachnid flowers.
Finally, a real showstopper. Again, no label, but I know that my friend, Tiny Tim, will be able to tell me. Banksia? Possibly. Fabulous? Definitely.
There we have it, Six on Saturday. Hope you are all keeping safe. Us in the west of the UK must batten down the hatches once again for Storm Isha on Sunday night. Fingers crossed.
Here we have it, 2024 in all its dank glory. That is the weather synopsis in this part of the world, anyway. Our garden doesn’t get much, if any, sun at this time of the year. It is south facing but surrounded by houses and the sun can’t muster the energy to clamber above the buildings quite yet. Which all adds to the gloom factor. Still, spirits are high, I feel like a corner has been turned, a few days of dry cold have been forecast, my finger is being kept away from the Let’s Get Sowing Button and all is well. Shall we get sharing?
After my last SoS, our esteemed leader Jim asked what photo I had substituted for a picture of an unattractive, soggy hedychium. It was this. A flower bud on my mini Magnolia stellata, one of two. Exciting times.
I have eventually got around to sorting the compost bin, another tick on the list. All “done-enough” was distributed around the garden, mainly heaped upon dahlias which haven’t been put into warm storage. Looking out the window this morning, it seems I was just in time.
A fancy little picotee hellebore is first out of the blocks. I know its not a race, but January is a time when flowering is especially rewarding for the gardener.
Confession: I haven’t planted the violas. Still time though.
Last year I decided I needed a little more evergreen/winter colour in the garden and bought Pseudowintera colorata ‘Moulin Rouge’. It hasn’t grown as much as I had hoped, but, in its defence, it was swamped by a vigorous impatiens for much of the summer. This is the problem with plants that are small but will grow large eventually, they need to be placed in a spot they can mature but may be overcome by others whilst they are young, or you must move them as they progress with the jeopardy that can involve. Dilemma.
Finally, the Mistral anemones are coming into flower. I wonder what they have to say about the frost, they might well change their mind.
There you have it, Six on Saturday. Thanks to Jim for hosting, pop over to his site to see what gems lie there. Until next time.
Every year, since I became self-employed, I have taken January off. I, rather pompously, call it my sabbatical. I also tell people I will be holidaying in the Caribbean for the duration. At least there is some truth in my first statement.
Every year I have list of tasks that I promise myself to complete before I return to work in February; clean and sharpen tools, archive photographs, sort my outdoor clothing. Some I achieve, others, to my shame, remain unticked. One job already undertaken (and it is still December!) is the emptying of my work bag, sorting the detritus from the useful, washing the bag and starting all over again.
Looking at the diverse, and sometimes puzzling contents I found within my bag, reminded me of the game we played as children, the wildly exciting Objects on a Tray game. And I thought, what better gift to you than something to amuse you at this party time of the year. Later, at your black tie Tizer and Hobnobs New Year event, there might well be a lull in proceedings. An inappropriate remark by the Archbishop might invoke an awkward silence or perhaps George Clooney will once again attempt the Worm Dance. Everyone will be examining their feet and wishing they had slippers on. You are desperate to get out of a tricky spot. “Let’s play Off The Edge Tray Game!” you cry. “What! You’ve never heard of it? It’s all the rage in fashionable society.” Disaster averted!
The rules are simple. All you have to do is study the tray for 30 seconds then look away and list all the items without peeping. To help I’ve given a list with a short attempt at an explanation.
Some, although not all, of the contents are listed below, when they appeared in multiples I’ve shown only one, the tray was getting very full!: 1. Two sets of keys, not mine – I can identify one set as Max’s but the other I have no idea. 2. An assortment of pens, pencils and markers – this bag eats pens, hides them when you need them and then spits them out when you don’t. 3. Two knives – a gardener should always have a sharp knife and a back-up with a corkscrew. 4. Various Packets of seeds – no surprise there. 5. Gonk – lucky and portable 6. Business Cards – now stored in a tin that once contained mini-mints that I gave to Peggy from our recent trip to Manchester Art Gallery. 7. One plaster, 4 lip balms, one handcream – extensive first aid kit. 8. Piece of used soft-tie – it will definitely come in useful one day. 9. Hairband, hair clip, hair tie – unruly hair can make or break a day. The hairband is useless as it continually pings off my head. The soft-tie could, at a push, join this group. 10. Four Ventolin inhalers – although I rarely need one, I am paranoid about having an inhaler with me. Which is obvious here! 11. A syringe – given to me by The Prof to remove water from my echeveria. Strange but true. 12. A hand lens – or loupe as I believe it is called. Used at college and seldom since, which I shall rectify forthwith. 13. A plastic spoon – in case of emergency chocolate mousse situation. 14. Anti-histamine, paracetamol, cough sweets – I am a sickly child 15. A mini-stationary set – mini-stapler, mini-staples, mini-sellotape, mini-pencil, mini-sharpener, maxi-joy.
Now go!
How did you get on? Brilliantly, I’m sure. Hopefully you will all be having so much fun you won’t need to fall back on this frippery. Wishing you all a wonderful 2024, full of love and laughter and happy ever afters. Keep the faith my friends xxxx
Off The Edge Gardening 