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.

Six on Saturday – Solidarity

These are sad times for our Six on Saturday community. I am sure I am not alone in finding it tricky to find the words this week. However, it is important that we do and, in doing so, show solidarity. It is vital we support each other in this world, real or virtual. On a weekly basis we share our gardens and our thoughts for those who wish to look and listen, can anything be more as positive? As Jim said “The weeds never stop growing”. We need to keep on keeping on. Now, let us Six on Saturday.

I have a comfrey plant confined to a large trug, with which to make “tea”. Last year’s result was a little insipid, it definitely needed more oomph. On reflection, this should have been obvious when no one fainted when the bucket lid was lifted. This year we must stuff more leaves in and hopefully get a stronger brew.

Last year, or was it the year before, I grew a turmeric plant from a supermarket rhizome. Unfortunately, after a fine start, and I probably bragged about my success, it keeled over. Last week it came to me that I should give it another go. In gardening it is as well to have a goldfish brain when it comes to failures.

Rogersia ”Heavenly Gill’ is well on its way. Although I am fond of her when the leaves have grown and spread, I think it is at this stage, with crinkled juvenile foliage, that I love her most.

The first rose bud has arrived, this is Fragrant Cloud, a favourite of both myself and OH. Yes, we do agree on some things.

When I came home from a sleepover at Peggy’s earlier this week, I found that OH had been spreading mushroom compost around the garden. Beautiful. No complaints here.

Uvularia grandiflora is now in full flow. I don’t think any more words are necessary.

There we have it, another six completed. Keep on keeping on, my friends.

Six on Saturday – Soothing

I’ve had a busy week. Busy in a good way. Which means that I am weary but contented. And a little bit sad. Spring has the knack of soothing the troubled soul and providing positivity where perhaps it would usually be tricky to find it. This week my favourite season has done a sterling job. Now don’t you pass to fast! If you would like to catch up with what other SoSers are up to, pop over to Jim at Garden Rumination and take your fill. Time to SoS.

Under the ornamental pear tree, in the Guano Bed, there are a couple of unnamed hostas. These were in place when we moved in, two of the few plants in situ. As yet they are not nibbled, perhaps sparrow poo is a mollusc deterent as yet undiscovered!

Is it a good year for tulips or is it just that I planted many more in the autumn after I forgot the previous year and seethed with jealously when I saw everyone elses’? One or the other.

The emerging acer foliage is an annual joy. The Woolies acers definitely need to be potted into bigger containers. Too late this year? Probably. Does that mean I won’t give it a go? We will see.

Myself and OH are having our usual “friendly” spud growing competition. We will not be comparing like for like though. Earlier in the year I bought two different cultivars. For myself I chose Sarpo Una, for its alleged blight resistance and high yield. He will be growing Jacky, because I am very fond of his cousin with the same name.

Erythronium ‘White Beauty’ is looking classy. The photobombing celandine a little less so.

This little Primula ‘Port and Lemon’ was a gift from my SoS sister, Noelle. Unfortunately, it succumbed to the evil weevil. Fortunately, I have brought it back from the brink. For this, I am very pleased.

There we have it, another week under my belt. Stay safe and well, my friends.

Six on Saturday – Keeping on

April has arrived, although sometimes I doubted it would. Our weather has been variable this week, as has my clothing. On, off, on, off, hot, cold, hot, cold. Wednesday I was in full waterproofs, not because of the wet but because I spent the morning hoiking bags of spent mushroom compost and had to visit to Sainsbury’s in the afternoon. I do try to be a little considerate when I re-enter the real world. Or perhaps it is the alternative universe and I inhabit reality. Who knows? Mine is a pretty good world most of the time, so I will stick with that for the foreseeable. Join me if you will. If you would like to eavesdrop on gardens across the world and beyond (I believe Rhody is from the Planet Cute) check out Mr G at Garden Ruminations. Shall we make haste?

Photinia ‘Pink Marble’ is seriously under-rated in this garden. Once summer comes, with exuberant salvias and the like, it is thrust into the background. Slowly, slowly it is growing, holding its own. Fair play.

I have made a massive mistake in the garden. In truth, there are many, but we should dwell on one at a time. I planted this Ompalodes cappadocica ‘Cherry Ingram’ right next to Pulmonaria ‘Blue Ensign’. Both blue, both flowering now, neither standing out to their full potential. A shuffle is in order.

This picture is quite joyful. Joyful to me. This is the dahlia that I named for my Mum and by default for my Dad. It is not a strong plant, it has caused me heartache and I have chased replacements across the land (thanks for your help Emma). It is rallying. I am very happy. As is my wont, I have mentioned this special dahlia before, for those interested here is a smidgeon more information on the wonderful Peggy’s Pearlers.

I have struggled with auriculas. The romantic theatres, rows of terracotta, precision, perfection and, one of the most wonderful words aside from “kelp”, farina. All beyond me. Except this one. Inspite and despite.

I’ve grown Pelargonium ‘Mystery’ before, but I was never sure if it was its real name or just that someone had misplaced the label. Perhaps that is a reflection on me. When offered it again, by the wonderful Welsh John, I jumped at the chance (along with Lord Bute, watch this space). Coming home from a day away, I was thrilled to see this greeting. Now for cuttings and careful tending, I don’t want to lose it again.

Tulipa praestans ‘Shogun’ has been making a fine display for the last few days. Initially I was going to show you a picture of its gaping amber blooms, a colour as warm and comforting as banana ice cream. Then I noticed the fine combination of voila and tulip and did a complete U-turn. I’m like that. Fickle.

There we have it, all done, all well. Keep on, keeping on, whatever planet you might be from.