Six on Saturday – Flaming

Flaming June, I am sure I will not be the only one to point out the irony. Apparently this weekend will be an improvement, but whilst the rest of the country basks in righteous sunshine, I believe, after a short interval, more rain is to come next week. Of course this is not Saturday, but Friday and it is not the best. The “showers moving east” have morphed into “torrential rain lingering overhead and not shifting for the whole day even though the gusting wind should have blown it away”. Perhaps the wind is just keeping it in place. I was valliant and dashed outside to take a few photos as I was AWOL last week and two absences could easily become a habit. I am irresistably drawn to the lazy habit. Know the enemy. Someone who is busy preparing for his open garden is our leader Jim at Garden Ruminations, take a look at his blog for beautiful plants and wonderful SoSers. Let’s get on.

Gertie is doing well, as usual. Is she my favourite? I wouldn’t like to say.

This year I am growing four tomato plants outside and four in the greenhouse. You may be surprised to know that I actually considered long and hard which varieties would thrive more readily in each situation. This is ‘Cosmonaut’, a Ukrainian variety. Seems to be doing quite well in the wild. I gave a plant to Artem, a Ukrainian chap who works at Maesteg sometimes, he seemed quite pleased.

I have given into temptation again and this new to me Abutilon ‘Souvenir de Bonn’ also seems to be enjoying the wet weather. Is it just me who is miserable?

Lilium ‘Claude Shride’ has fought the dreaded beetle, OH’s pet teasels (grrr) and now the horrendous weather. Bent over the pond inelegantly, it is still beautiful.

Poor old Rosa ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ has felt the full brunt of the recent craziness. I’m sure she is big enough and old enough to recover from the fast spin in the washing machine.

Gloriosa speciosa, the flame lily, was brought on a whim. Quite happy and adding a little glamour amongst the greenhouse tomatoes, I’m not disappointed by my recklessness. Perhaps I shouldn’t be encouraged into further whimsy.

That is it for today. I plan on enjoying the gap in the weather and try to tame some of the madness in my garden. Happy gardening!

National Garden Scheme – Hard Stuff

Although I am loathe to admit it, however many fabulous plants we introduce to a garden, what often makes it work, sets it off to be its best self, is the hard landscaping. The unyielding to my yielding. The frame for my painting. What is fortuitous is that my clients at Blaen Cwmdu love a bit of fancy brickwork, stone wall building, necessary structure. The yin to my yang, or perhaps the other way round. I must have been very good in a former life.

Earlier this year I planted out a new border, a twin and sunny idyll where exotics such Beschorneria yuccoides ‘Flamingo Glow’ will hopefully thrive. Echium candicans, ginger lilies and astelia are bulked out by calendula, dahlia and species salvia whilst the borderline tenders establish themselves.

Today Gareth sent me photos of the completion of the path that lead through this new tropical bed. It made me very happy. As a dyed-in-the-wool plantswoman this has joy slightly disturbed me. And this in itself has given me much pleasure.

National Garden Scheme – Working Party

I’ve been a little tardy posting about our NGS progress at Blaen Cwmdu Farm. I could give a hundred reasons, some might even been true. However, none of the excuses are consequential and we must console ourselves with “better late than never”.

On a Bank Holiday at BCF, if at all possible, we like to have a Working Party. You will be shocked to know that the etymological root of this tradition is an amalgamation of the words “working” and “partying”. These special days, when we are together in the garden, are generally used to tackle a particular job and beat the bejesus out of it. It is fun, fine food is provided, we work hard and get a lot done. Spring Bank Holiday Monday was no exception. What we did not order was unrelenting sun, record breaking temperatures and only a smidgeon of a breeze.

Be-hatted, sunscreen smothered and armed with rehydration of choice, our task was to tackle the vegetable garden. Our quest was three-fold, the great horticultural triumvirate; weed, plant and mulch. It was challenging. My employers are grafters. We soldiered on, through the hellish heat, peppered by “I’ve just got to …” dashes to shade and recovery. Gareth has recently installed a system of pumps to utilise the spring water that feeds the garden, increasing pressure ten fold. On such a day it came in very useful for cooling off the steaming gardeners.

When lunchtime arrived Gareth had surpassed himself. I must remember to add to my interview script for prospective employers “are you a great cook?”. The star of the show had been on the go since earlier, a fabulous hot smoked chicken. At this point I could quite emphasise with the chuck, although I am sure I would be much less delicious. Along with various salads and warm home made bread, it was a meal to soothe our morning’s exertions and energise us for the afternoon’s toil.

By the end of the day the job was complete. Beans; broad, runner and French had been planted. Spare onions replaced those eaten by a mystery assailant. Summer broccoli, stripey courgettes and Shark’s Fin melons were released into the wild. Potatoes were earthed-up and mulch provided a beautiful rich blanket for all. I went home, exhausted, replete and a little bit broken. Alison and Gareth waved me off and continued to mulch the newly planted squash bed. I told you they were grafters!

It was work but it was also a party. The best combination. Another big step forward towards a happy garden.

And then the rain began …..

Six on Saturday – Challenging

It has been a tough week to be a gardener in South Wales. A good week, but challenging all the same. The weather has been unnationally hot, other climes might call it warm, but for us it was definitely bloomin’ scorching. Not the best working conditions, but we made it through. Next week we are expecting rain, the water butts will be refilled, but I’m not sure how quickly I can adapt to this handbrake turn. I would make a dreadful Borg. To find out how others have been coping with the heat/warmth/wet/dry/cold pop over to our leader Jim at Garden Ruminations and prepare to be enlightened. Let’s get started, it is nearly June.

First we have Melittis ‘Royal Velvet Distinction’ skulking in the shadows beneath Forest Pansy. I am not as fond as I was when I first encountered it, I am rather fickle in my affections. Still, it seems happy where it is, gives me a little smile when I catch its eye, and I would be daft not to value a trouble free, passive plant. It can’t all be horticultural champagne and caviar. Although to be honest I wouldn’t mind if it was.

Is this Digitalis lutea? I think so. The label pixie has been up to their tricks again. Nice though.

I’m not generally one for the chimera of the plant world. However, I have been seduced by x Petchoa ‘BeautiCal Sunset Orange’ which quite frankly I would have put back on the shelf if I had bothered to read its pretentious name. The capital C mid word makes me want to push a custard pie into someone’s face. Which amounts to Stage 10 on the violence scale for me. Serious. I love it in spite of myself.

Rosa ‘Absolutely Fabulous’ had a down year in 2025, possibly due to nearby thugs which have since been subdued/composted. This year it has recovered and is full of bud, albeit covered in greenfly. I am depending on an aphid predator flyby, otherwise squishing will be necessary.

Bletilla striata ‘Alba’ is flowering exceptionally well, quite surprisingly so. Dreadful photo, you will have to take my word for its loveliness.

Dahlia ‘Peggy Pearlers’ is flowering. If you know you know. If you don’t, you had better delve deeper.

All done, another Six completed. June next time. Where is the “slow down” button?

Six on Saturday – Alignment

Bank holiday weekend, heat wave; these planets rarely align. However, it appears that we are going to be treated to just such an unusual event. It might get messy. Of course this only applies to a small portion of our world, which is all I can accurately report upon. Which in turn is a shortcoming on my part. To get a more rounded view of our fine planet, pop over to our main man, Jim at Garden Ruminations, and much more will be revealed. Shall we get on?

The first rose in our garden to flower is always Rosa ‘Grace’. Such a elegant bloom. I rescued this from The Prof’s garden not long after I started working for him. It was languishing in a pot and I threatened him with the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Roses if he didn’t let me rescue it. The rest is history.

We grow a large planter of comfrey to harvest for the devil/angel that is comfrey tea. This is the first time it has flowered and I have been enjoying the fabulous blooms, it seems I am not alone.

Podopyllum versipelle ‘Spotty Dotty’ is generally grown for its cartoon-like mottled leaves. If you take a little peek beneath its skirts, the deepest maroon flowers also will impress. This is perhaps a little risque, maybe I will be censored.

Is it just me, or is Geranium ‘Splish Splash’ very variable? This particular plant is mainly white flowered, with just a few “splashed”. I’ve tried before and the same has happened. Not sure I will bother again.

It is Iris sibirica time, this one is probably ‘Papillon’ but when I looked for the label it had gone the way of all things. You will have to take my educated guess for truth or perhaps half-truth. Who cares? It is lovely.

Meconopsis ‘Lingholm’, alive, flowering, my heart is full.

That is me done, another SoS complete. Have a good week. Do the right thing when you can. It’s not always easy. It is always a battle.

NGS – Countdown – Bring it on!

My esteemed clients at Blaen-Cwndu Farm, Gareth and Alison, have decided to open their garden to the public as part of the National Garden Scheme.

I am not coming to this task as an innocent. Cliffe Garden in North Devon, where I worked for 8 years, was open every day from 1 April (appropriate) to the end of September. I recall the scrabble to get the garden back into shape after our winter hibernation, which we had spent hunkering down from the wicked northerlies whilst eating copious amounts of cake and chatting about Nietzsche. My desperate pleas of “just weed at the front, Von, no one will see the back!” is burnt into my soul with a fire brand. Too dramatic? Perhaps.

I can’t, however, say I’m surprised. One of the first things Gareth said to me, when I was first enchanted/ensnared by this wonderful place 3 years ago, was that it was his dream to open the garden to the public. My eye may have twitched a little, but I smiled politely and thought “Don’t worry, that urge will pass”. It didn’t.

The date is set, September 13th. There is no turning back. Nor would we want to. The garden is worth sharing. There is time to make it even better. There is time to panic. But not yet. At the moment there is just anticipation and excitement.

And then I had one of my “brilliant” ideas. I would document the lead up to this momentous event by sharing the journey with you. The good, the bad, the tragic, the glorious, the weeping and the laugher. There is bound to be all these and more.

My loins are girded and you are coming along for the ride. Bring it on!

Six on Saturday – The Prof

Tuesday was the funeral of my client, sparring partner, chief heckler and, most importantly, great friend, John Kingdon, AKA The Prof, AKA JK, AKA My Sponsor. I shall miss him terribly. Here is my feeble homage to him.

We disagreed about most things. In fact we could bicker about almost anything, which is generally the sign of a good relationship. In my world, anyway. I worked for John for less than four years, but we knew each other virtually for much longer. It was a good match.

Lunchtime was an important interlude to our day, which seems an appropriate place to begin. JK would make me a cheese sandwich with a bowl of salt and vinger crisps on the side, accompanied by an orange juice and tonic water. We would then watch an episode of one of his library of DVD’s. Over the weeks and years we covered Torchy the Battery Boy (an education for me), through Rhubarb and Custard (an education for him), Fireball XL5, concluding with The Vicar of Dibley.

This is a favourite of his many altroemeria, I’m afraid I can’t name it for you.

We always agreed on the more important things; plants, gardens, grass roots stuff. Nothing was more enjoyable than sitting down over another cup of coffee, studying catalogues, seed lists, planning and of course, squabbling over the minutiae. Trips to the local garden centre were always great fun, especially when accompanied by coffee and cake, or on one special day, half a Stella and cake. He teased me incessantly about my plant addiction, let me tell you fine folk, it was “pot calling the kettle black”. Here is an example of one of our very successful trips. We often bought in tandem, sharing postage and dividing the spoils. Lilium ‘Forever Susan’ was one such purchase. What great taste we had.

Other than his garden, John loved music, especially classical, even more especially church organ music, he played the organ himself. I find organ music abrasive and slightly disturbing. I love Jimmy Smith. Never the twain shall meet.

When John was ill in hospital, I would send him photos of his garden and when I visited we made plans for this growing season. He missed this wonderful winter flowering clematis in full bloom.

Bedding plants were a must, especially tuberous begonias, which filled wall planters and hanging baskets alike. John was quite the gadget man, which explains why his nom de plume was The Prof. He devised a wall of irrigated pots which were named, for no apparent reason, The Hanging Gardens of East Grinstead. They were quite splendid.

JK was a proud Welshman. He favoured independence but assured me that I would be allowed to remain as an immigrant. Periodically, I would enquire how the revolution was progressing. This usually resulted in a stern look and being assigned a rubbish job in the garden.

John loved his pets, in fact he adored them. This is Buster, who arrived shortly before I did, we were newbies at the same time. I do love a tabby and he was no exception to the rule. Buster was very helpful around the garden, in a feline kind of way, laying in and on things that you would like to be using. And here he proves that it is possible to look super cool whilst sitting in an Amazon box.

John will be staying in his beloved garden, with his lifetime of pets who are also interred in various place. In a week or two, myself, his sister and special neighbour will have our own private ceremony, scattering his ashes to enhance and feed the soil.

JK was a kind and generous man, inventive and horticulturally ambitious. We had many laughs together and should have had many more.

I shall miss him terribly.

Please check out our shepherd, Jim at Garden Ruminations, if you are SoS curious. You won’t regret it.

Six on Saturday – Little Green

This week’s title, Little Green, refers to a song by the wonderful Joni Mitchell. If you aren’t au fait with this tune, and would like a worthwhile earworm, then I recommend exploring further. My Six on Saturday today is more accurately A Lot of Green, but there isn’t a song, to my knowledge, with that name. I’m grasping at straws in order to prove my point. And now I’ve forgotten what my point is. There is a colourful exception to prove my chlorophyllic rule. I’ve never been good with rules, even my own, especially my own. The rain today has been most welcome and the greens have intensified because of it. If you would like to learn more about SoS, participate or just read more posts, then pop over to Jim’s site and enjoy yourself.

First out of the greenish blocks is Solomon’s Seal. I visited my friend Welsh Ann a couple of days ago and was reminded that she uses these spring beauties as cut flowers. I was also reminded that she had donated a plant for our garden. And here it is. Fab.

My SoS sister, Noelle, sent me some Miscanthus nepalensis seed. Twice. This is my second attempt. Does this look right or am I delusional?

Enkianthus campanulatus, confined to a pot but, despite its restraint and the lack of rain, flowering well. Its bell like blooms are pinkish green, subtle and sublime. To paraphrase a saying “I have grand estate tastes with a postage stamp reality.”

I’m not sure that woodlander Mukdenia rossi has the positive press it deserves. If necessary I will wear a sandwich board and march up and down the high street. It is a little darling.

Broussonetia papyrifera, the paper mulberry, arrived at our house last year. Which make it sounds accidental, but in truth was planned but random. Apparently, it can grow to 20m. I didn’t think this through.

A blurry, or as I like to say “romantically hazy”, Rosa ‘Fragrant Cloud’. When the rain started in earnest this morning, I said to OH “FC will look fabulous strewn with raindrops”. I over-estimated the photographer.

We are away for a few days. Outrageous. If it wasn’t for my beloved family I wouldn’t contemplate going away at this time of year. I hope they appreciate how much I’m sacrificing. Not really. What will be, will be. The tears will be for later.

Six on Saturday – Vigilance

It is a time to be vigilant. As is the order of things, plants are beginning to shoot, monsters are primed to eat them. Who can blame the munchers? Lovely fresh foliage, plumptious and delicious; after a winter snuggled in a cosy corner it is just what the doctor ordered. Such is the way of the world. I don’t begrudge these hungry souls, I am happy to share, but share only. Unfortunately some have their sights set on more than I am willing to forfeit. Which makes it a battle. Which is awkward for a proto-pacifist. Life is indeed a puzzle. If you would like to join in, or are just Six on Saturday curious, which is equally acceptable, other SoSers and their stories can be found on Jim at Garden Ruminations site.

The dahlias have returned, this is Labyrinth, and I am jubilant. I was concerned that the extremely wet winter would have rotted the tubers, and I have been sowing seed to supplement this loss, but each and every one is now shooting strongly. Delicious said the slug. Whoa cowboy said the gardener.

The dreaded lily beetles have also returned, seen here on Lilium ‘Claude Shride’. Yesterday I did a bit of work in my neighbour Percy Porsche’s garden. I noticed a couple of LB’s on his lily and duly dealt with them. I then messaged PP to tell him to look out for them and take action. Considering his horticultural prowess and indeed interest, I then sent a picture of a lily plant so he knew where to look. And I then sent a picture of a lily beetle so he knew what he was looking for. All angles covered.

Welsh John gave me Pelargonium ‘Lord Bute’ last autumn. I have grown it before but previously struggled. This one has already more flowers on it than I previously managed. I am very attracted to dark blooms and this one is no exception.

I’m pretty sure this is Geum ‘Mai Tai’. I’m not sure what has happened to the labels in this garden, many seem to have disappeared into the ether this year. A little pixie, no doubt.

As the stupendous Pointer Sisters sang “I’m so excited and I just can’t hide it”. My will it/won’t it Meconopsis ‘Lingholm’ has a flower bud. It is important to document this mini miracle here as the proverb “pride comes before a fall” could have been written just for me.

Another Welsh John donation is Cestrum elegans. It over wintered in the greenhouse, but has been out in the relative wild for a while. Love it.

That is your Six on Saturday, next week May already. To quote S&G, I just wish it would “slow down, you move too fast”. We are off to a local plant fair this morning. It could get messy.

Grief

Many years ago, after my beloved Dad died, I crossed paths with the MD of the company I was employed at “it is funny to think that this is happening many, many times, every day across the world” he said, referring to my loss. I grunted and scurried away, probably to weep in the toilets. I have periodically thought about this insensitive comment from an inadequate man.  I wish I had had the foresight to say “but my dad doesn’t die every day, you ignorant brute” but I didn’t. Recent sad events have reminded me of this episode and have caused me to soften my harsh judgement of the tongue tied man.

In truth, it is difficult to know what to say, when tragedy strikes. Perhaps, in reflective moments, my boss remembers the crass comment he made to the grieving underling, he may even blush slightly in shame. Perhaps. We all, myself included, try to make sense of the world by aligning it to our own experiences, both first and second hand. But bereavement doesn’t work like that. It is not one size fits all, it is tailor made to each and every sufferer.  We should not presume how they can best move forward from their devastation.  They need space and time and no schedule.  They need friends and family who don’t judge or preach.  They need people to appreciate the uniqueness of their particular challenge. Not for a week, a month or year. For ever. As everything has changed now. Forever.

I was going to end there, but it seems terribly abrupt. The promise of hopeless and unremitting heartache. You know me too well for that. There will be light again, a little subdued, or just a glimmer, but light all the same.