Last week, on my first day back on Button Moon, we prepared the annual wildflower beds for the coming year. It seemed a fitting way to mark the occasion of my return to the fold. The border was weeded, the bones of last year’s blooms were pulling up and any remaining seed broadcast. Looking forward to the future. It is the only way to go.
This is the carcass of a particularly frou frou, bruise purple poppy that infiltrated the native mix. It might not be true to the standard meadow form, but it was welcomed with open arms. The contents of the pepper pot seed head will be scattered with the rest. We do love a bit of frou frou.
Off The Edge Gardening 
I agree, you can’t beat frou-frou. Lovely day here, I hope you have been enjoying it too.
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I was driving back from Wales, much nicer than the drive up on Friday in the torrential wind and rain!
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Frou-Frou is wonderful you have reminded me that I have saved Frou- Frou potential in my garage, must get a scattering.
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Perhaps it is the Year of the Frou Frou, got to be a good thing. 🙂
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We have some frou-frou poppies in Barbara Cartland pink, they were here before us so I give their offspring a chance every year.
Yesterday Mr TT and I went to Heligan in the sunshine. The usual suspects were in flower along with two groups of Kniphofia – we both blinked twice but I have photographic evidence!
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What!!! That is crazy. Love Heligan, am very envious, sounds like you had a good time.
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‘Bruise’ colored does not sound very frou frou.
Many years ago, when part of the old Los Altos Nursery was redeveloped into monster homes, the old Mother’s ancient house was sadly demolished. Old Mother was very feisty and would not die until she finally did so (efficiently) well past 100. After the house was demolished, it rained and made a muddy mess. Then, the following spring, vast herds of opium poppies grew from seed in a can of old Mother’s tea that was left in the kitchen when the house was demolished. It was quite fitting. Her family almost lost everything while they were in internment camps during World War II. Consequently, she never wanted her family to sell the property in Los Altos. Unfortunately, the formerly inexpensive land became some of the most expensive real estate in the world, so the grandsons could not afford the taxes on all of it.
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A wonderful story Tony, I can just imagine the defiant scene. It was rather sad end though.
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Oh, the grandsons still own most off it, and the nursery continues to operate. They just needed to sell part of the land to pay taxes and buy out their uncles, who had no interest in the nursery. In typical gentrification tradition, those who live in the ugly monster homes around the nursery want to force the nursery out of the neighborhood. It is so gratifying to know that they survive, even if their days are numbered. None of us natives asked for this area to change the way it did. Outsiders think that we should be pleased that our parents and grandparents were able to sell their homes for so much; but really, where does that leave us?
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