Six on Saturday – Late Shift

Years ago, when we lived in Bristol and had a more hedonistic lifestyle, we would go to our local pub after work. There were others who did the same, it was a social and convivial diversion and we all went home for our pasty and chips after a couple of babychams. We were known as the Early Shift. Before our seats were cool, we were replaced by the Late Shift, who had dined and perhaps watched Eastenders before venturing out for a couple before closing time. Ocassionally we would still be there when the late shift arrived and sometimes the LS would arrive early, perhaps Dirty Den was being particularly annoying. This was most unsettling. And now I get to my point. I have often imagined the same system for Six on Saturday, there are some early contributors and some late ones, for reason of time zone or choice, usually consistent in their allotted time. Generally, I am an early bird, happy to post and get on with my oh, so, exciting day knowing I had done my duty.

Today, I have crossed the line into the mid to late shift. This SoS anomaly has come about as I have missed two weeks already and yesterday, Friday, when I normally prepare for my early contribution, I was busy chitty chatting, drinking house white and eating tacos with a good buddy of mine. I really didn’t want to miss another week, so here I am, late but with good intent.

I’m sure lots have already contributed to this week’s SoS, if you would like to explore the further reaches of the horticultural universe then pop over to our leader’s site, Jim at Garden Ruminations, and all will be revealed. We better shake a leg, the cut off time is almost upon us. Is there really a cut off time? Probably not.

The cuckoo in this nest of tyres, is an offspring of Begonia grandis ‘Claret Jug’ who spreads itself in nook and cranny all over the garden. The original owners of this “des res” were a group of underperforming strawberry plants who moved out as soon as their runners hit the ground. Still, one refuses to budge. I don’t hold out much hope.

Peggy and a tomato, still life.

The one surviving cosmos has eventually begun to flower. The foliage is looking quite splendid but it would certainly be improved with a few more blooms. Maybe soon.

Possibly my favourite pellie is the delicate and dark Pelargonium sidoides ‘Magenta Form’. It has staggered on for a few years now, in spite of my lacksidaisical treatment.

I always want to call this little lovely Cuphea purpurea, for obvious reasons, when it is actually Cuphea lanceolata. Apologies if I have sent you wrongly labelled seed. It all adds to the excitement.

Earlier in the year, this little beauty joined the flock. Salvia sagittata x ‘Blue Butterflies’ is the kind of colour that sets my heart afluttter. Not sure what that “x” is doing hanging there like a spare part. I’m sure one of you clever folk will know.

All done, Six on Saturday. Maybe next week back to my regular time, who knows, I might like it here.

Six on Saturday – Tip Toe

Another Saturday, another six, another week tip-toeing towards the end of the season. And what a bizarre season it has been. And what are my thoughts about it? It is as if I have a million opinions and none at all. I am bored with what I think about it. I am ready to move on, put a line under the carnage and cry “ever onwards and upwards”. But it isn’t as simple as having a terry tantrum and hoping all will be well, our prompts should come from the garden and not from our front room which is looking particularly cosy at the moment. There is plenty to be done and sometimes that involves merely watching and asssessing and acting upon what we have seen. As I said, it has been a bizarre season. I am sure that other SoSers will have more sensible thoughts. If you would like to find out what they are thinking pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations and all will be revealed. I will remain confused.

Those that struggled are trying again. One of which is Calendula ‘Westwell Hall’, a name I made up so don’t chase it on the internet. It will ever remind me of friends, here and passed, and therefore is very special. This is the essence of gardening. My subsection, anyway.

One of the chosen few, the ones that were watered and fussed over this summer, was Jacaranda mimosifolia. It has barely grown this year, but I always celebrate life and health over vigour. Which might be convenient. I didn’t even believe me then.

The Fuchia fulgens that I mislaid earlier in the year is now flowering. I may have been forgiven.

Fuchsia ‘Whiteknights Ruby’ is a tricky little soul or maybe we haven’t quite hit it off yet. I managed to get her through the winter but she has been reluctant to flower. Until now. I’m not sure she is contributing enough to warrant the attention I pay to her. We will see.

At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I snatched Dahlia ‘Thomas Edison’ from the jaws of doom. I may have failed in my attempt to be understated. The story is extremely dramatic, in a horti sense of the word; rotting tubers, a mere sliver of life, last chance saloon. After all the heartache this is the first flower of the year. I am very happy. It was definitely worth it.

My Sos sister, Noelle, sent me some cyclamen corms. Do I need to say more?

All done, another six, another Saturday. We do what we can.

Six on Saturday – Perky

All change. The rain has arrived and optimism is rife, it might even be classed as mild hysteria. In our house, anyway. We, and I am talking of the horti “we”, are not so naive as to believe it is enough. Or indeed that everything is ticketedyboo and balanced. We must take positives when they emerge from the gloom. This week, although holding onto August by our fingertips and therefore still officially summer, has had the scent of temporal change. With it my attitude has flipped from this season to next. Which is one of the forgotten joys of being a gardener. There is always next year. No need to wonder what it will bring. It is bound to be wonderful. Which is the reason I have ordered unnecessary bulbs and been both pondering replacements for the deceased and remedial care those teetering between worlds. My step is a little springier, my mood a little lighter. Pop over to our mentor Jim at Garden Ruminations and you can share in the woes and joys of Six on Saturday’s across the world.

Nemesia, why hasn’t it been canonized? Uncomplaining, sometimes perennial, beautiful. I can’t think of a single sin, definitely saintly material.

The Colquhounia coccinea has wilted, been watered when no one was looking, perked up, wilted, watered again when no one was looking and now is flowering better than it has all season. Its pathetic swoons have paid off.

Hedychium ‘Tara Seedling’ has just begun flowering. Lots more to come and in spite of the drought (what drought?) it seems taller than ever. Perhaps, because of the drought (wd?), everything else is smaller.

A new member, and one of the chosen, is Plectranthus ‘Mona Lavender’. Not “in your face, crazy” but lovely in it’s own right. And I haven’t even seen the flowers yet. If you are listening, I’ve got a cutting ready for you Welsh John.

The dahlias are usually stalwarts in this garden. Not this year, these Mexicans have struggled. I am hoping for a late showing and this is the first flower on Veronne’s Obsidian.

Rodgeria ‘Heavenly Gill’ has been a crispy mess for a few weeks. My heart skipped a beat when I saw this shiny new leaf emerging from the cracked clay. The only way is up, baby.

Six on Saturday – Wondering

I was wondering if I could write a Six on Saturday without mentioning the weather. I was wondering if in years to come it wouldn’t be a topic of conversation. I was wondering if this would become the norm. I was wondering if we would all just accept it as “the way it has to be”. I was wondering if I could ever master this “living in the moment” malarkey. I’m giving it a go. If you fancy any further philosophical reflections please pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations and enlightenment will be yours. Shall we proceed?

Linaria purpurea can always be relied upon. Sometimes you wish they would temper their enthusiasm.

Peggy is having a new flush of flowers. You can’t keep a good gal down.

Horrah for the marigold guardians of the tomatoes. A fine symbiotic relationship; they ward off the whitefly and in the process get watered and fed when their companions do.

Tibouchina urvilleana struggles on, I really need to be more attentive.

A rather pathetic performance by Tithonia rotundifolia ‘Torch’, which make it sound like it is the plants fault when it quite obviously isn’t.

I cannot complete with the photographical prowess of our mentor, but I possibly could win in an arm wrestle of joy when I spotted this hummingbird hawk on Salvia ‘Neon’. Of course it is another reflection of our changing climate, but a rather beautiful and mesmeric one.

Yesterday we waited for the promised rain and not one drop arrived. Black clouds tantalised but saved their bounty for others. I hope they were deserving souls.

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.