Six on Saturday – Guest Cloggie

There has been much excitement on Planet Heavens. The Cloggies have been in town. I am privileged to have a family that forego soap opera dramas and instead tend to embrace love and laughter. We genuinely enjoy each others’ company. Strange but true. All of this is unfortunate as some of us live in The Netherlands, or conversely, some of us live in Wales. Whichever, we are apart and we have been reunited, hence the excitement. The Cloggies have arrived. Or should I say “De Nederlanders zijn gearriveerd”. Three cheers for Google Translate! But let us not forget this is all about Six on Saturday and really there is a link. My younger brother is a talented photographer. “When you visit you can take photos for my Six on Saturday and I can show everyone how wonderful you are” says I. “Good plan” says he. Time passes. When he and his lovely family arrive at chez nous I greet him “Come in, dear brother, eat food, drink tea and be merry”. “I forgot my camera” he says. I suddenly remember how annoying a younger brother he is, I sigh, I sigh again. “I’ll take pictures on my phone” he says, obviously, and quite sensibly, scared of his elder, champion of the dead-leg, sister. And here they are. Six of them. If you don’t count the header, which makes seven. Someone told me, I’m not telling you who but I hope they are blushing, that this is a good way to get an extra picture in. Pop over to Jim’s and you might be able to work out who the rebel is. Shall we get on and not mention the Lamium ‘Silver Beacon’ in the header?

First we have the rear view of a seed-grown dark-leaved dahlia. This is the one that didn’t get transported to the greenhouse ark last autumn and survived to spite us all. I am very pleased.

In the past I have dismissed the flowers of Hydrangea aspera ‘Hot Chocolate’ as wishy-washy at best. I have been proved wrong.

I am flora-centric, which I am not necessarily proud of. This shot of Dahlia merckii reminded me of how narrow minded I can be. Mind you, I am quite proud that I recognised which foliage it is. Half a point?

Pelargonium x lawrencenum is one of the replacements I bought after my abysmal over-wintering strategy. I am going to try my hardest not to repeat the process.

Last year was the first year I grew zinnia. Seriously, what was I waiting for? A life wasted.

Finally, gazania, in your face, subtle as a brick, wonderful.

I am trying not to be miffed that my brother’s phone photos are better than the pictures I take on my posh camera. I am trying very hard. Perhaps it is his job to irritate his big sister. I think it must be that. Still, I thank him for these lovely shots and I miss him always.

Six on Saturday – Community

My garden is sighing with relief. Although the rain has often been relentless, the intermittent spells of sun have been enough for steady growth and blossom. The persistent wind has caused only minor damage, although this might be tempting fate bearing in mind Storm Anthony’s arrival today. Perhaps the harsh spring ensured that any early growth was slow and sturdy, perhaps there is so much crammed in they are all holding each other up. A strong community. Talking of community, our Six on Saturday community can be found over at Councillor Jim’s. Shall we shake a leg?

First, raised from the Hardy Plant Society seed, is Malva trimestris ‘Ruby Regis’. I’m not sure how far it fell from the tree, but I rather like it. Another annual, so seed collecting later in the summer, assuming there will be a dry couple of days for harvest, is on the cards.

My seed grown dahlia have been a little disappointing so far, as they have been very close in colour and form to the parent plants. This one has just flowered for the first time and I am very happy. I haven’t quite captured the true colour but you can be assured it is vibrant and joyful.

Hydrangea aspera ‘Hot Chocolate’ is flowering. Last year I wasn’t a fan. This year I am. Fickle.

Onto a crazy dahlia. This, another gift from Welsh John, is Dahlia ‘Labyrinth’. Although it is not one I would have chosen for myself, I absolutely adore it. Bonkers and all the better for being that way.

A couple of weeks ago my virtual friend Chloris SoSed about two of her monarda and their pollination by hummingbirds in their native lands. I mentioned that I had seen bees shimmy under the top petal of the flower to extract their pollen and nectar rewards. Ever since I have held a vigil in front of my Monarda ‘Beauty of Cobham’ to prove I am not delusional, not about that anyway. These flowers have become a little ramshackle and definitely need a dead head, but I could not leave my post for mere maintenance. Ten minutes later I got fed up so you will have to make do with this blurry and non conclusive shot.

Anyone who might have recently lost their Aesclepias tuberosa to the demon molluscs should look away now. Too late? Sorry about that.

That is your lot, see you next time, in the meantime stay dry/wet/cool/warm/upright*

*delete as necessary.

Wall

It took me a while to appreciate the wonders of a wall. Possibly about the same time that it dawned on Oasis. My initial foray into walldom consisted of building a blockwork monstrosity at college, which I am hoping did not stand the test of time. At Cliffe I was introduced to the master craft of dry stone walling. When I say “introduced” I mean I watched while artisans plied their trades, asked pertinent questions and begged that whilst they constructed their works of art they didn’t stand on my plants.

Dry stone walling is a diverse and complex discipline. Styles and techniques differ from county to county, town to town, individual to individual. Like all works of art they are created and cast out into the world. It is here that they further develop their personalities, that they become a living thing, host to newt or snail or moss or lichen. Until they tumble, as all eventually do, often after many decades, and new blood comes along, with a nuance, a diversion from the traditional, and builds it up again. There is room in this world for both tradition and innovation. All good reasons to love a wall. I’m not sure this is what the Gallagher brothers had in mind.

Six on Saturday – Spoilt for Choice

We are in the “spoilt for choice” phase of SoS. I’m wishing I could store a few up for the lean times. I doubt I would get away with it. The garden has benefited from a fine sprinkling of rain and some intermittent sunshine. That is all we can ask for. The weather/plants, plants/the weather, is there no end to my conversational skills? For more of this fine rhetoric pop over to Jim’s site and you will not be disappointed. Now is time to put our minds to the task in hand: Six on Saturday. Here are six and I believe that it is Saturday.

Let’s start with a bang. Helenium “Short and Sassy’. No misnomers there and I love it.

Long ago I was in Woolworths in Bedminster, Bristol, possibly looking for Pick ‘n’ Mix, the latest 45rpm or some grout. A woman rushed in waving her arms in panic. “Don’t leave the shop, the streets are full of swarming locust” she cried. I told who wanted to hear “They are only ants, looking for a new home, nothing to be worried about”. Did they listen? Locust make a much better story.

The locust that live in the greenhouse are just thinking about finding pastures new. Good luck with that.

Now a pretty in pink watsonia. Not the colour I would normally choose, but often with watsonia grown from seed we get what we get. No complaints here.

Onto a rather blurry Red Admiral supping on the scabious. Warms the cockles.

When it comes to self-seeders there are none more dramatic than a sunflower. I have planted several multi-headed red ones about the garden but others have magically appeared. A casting vote from a busy bee won this by-election.

Finally, a match made in monochrome heaven. A white agapanthus from Welsh John alongside Dahlia ‘Veronne’s Obsidian’. A happy accident.

That is your lot for this week. See you next time.

Fight!

I was beginning to worry that the insects weren’t going to find us. I remember feeling the same last year, but as our little garden has become even more isolated in the land of plastic and apathy, there seemed even more reason to be concerned. As a child, did you ever move house and wonder how Father Christmas would find you? All your precious pressies would inadvertently be given to some totally undeserving child and you would be left bereft and tearful on the fateful morning. That is what I have been thinking about the insects. All except the ants and the blackfly. Just like last year they have been doing very nicely. I even considered buying some ladybird larvae, but was swayed by thoughts of natural equilibrium and worried if the late comers turned up to find some interlopers they would be miffed.

Yesterday, on my tour of the grounds, I spotted two red admirals and one small tortoiseshell enjoying the scabious. Almost as exciting, if not more, was not one, not two, but three ladybirds. I fist pumped, à la Wimbledon, and rushed in to tell OH. Carried away with emotion, he nearly looked up from the paper and grunted, which I interpreted as “hip hip horray”.

Today I watched as one of these valiant ladybirds did battle with the fiendish ants protecting their prime milkers, cheering on the good guys and even intervening at one point. But wait. “Good guys?”, “fiendish?”, this is not a Saturday morning B movie. All these creatures have an equal right to fill their place in the complex and threatened world we live in, vilifying one and glorify another helps nothing or no-one. Any imbalance is due to human weakness. Fiendish, almost certainly.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Surely I wouldn’t have been so careless as to omit an important caveat in my official request for rain. There definitely would have been a “night time only” clause. This was an amateur error. Perhaps in my desperation I forgot.

Today, at Milo’s Garden, it rained almost non-stop, the only variance being the severity of the downpour. Like a brave little gardener, I struggled on with jobs that would not be detrimental. Eventually, about an hour after my waterproofs succumbed, I admitted defeat. Still, a consolation was that the water butts at home would be filling up. When I got home, less than 10 miles away, it appears that there had only been a couple of showers. Some days it doesn’t work out the way you had hoped.

This photo was not taken today. Any self-respecting bee would have been sheltering somewhere warm and dry. As should any sensible gardener.

Six on Saturday – Uncertainties

It is proper summer now. We have had some rain and we have had some sun and we have had some wind. Proper summer. And I have also started thinking about what is working in the garden and what is not. How I can improve things next year. I suppose that is how we roll, us gardeners, always looking round the next corner. Perhaps I should live more in the moment, especially when this particular moment is a good one in the garden. I am, as always, a work in progress. Someone who I am sure has plans for the future is our main man, Jim at Garden Ruminations, pop over to his site to find up what he and the other SoSers have been up to. Let’s not dilly dally on the way, I’ve got plans to hatch.

First we have the lily that was pretending to be a daylily, or more accurately the one I got confused about. Do not expect certainties now. The master of disguise has now flowered. I thought it was going to be Casa Blanca but it doesn’t look quite right. I can’t think what else it would be. It is pretty though, which is what matters in the end.

This is why I love violas.

Onto a dahlia recently given to me by Welsh John. The label read “Wine Eyed Gill” (sic). The plant says “I don’t think so”. I say “I don’t care”.

This is the variegated agave I found on a stall outside someone’s house in Newlyn. I was very excited at the time, possibly scarily so. It limped through the winter and now is doing something interesting in its middle parts. Possibly damage to the growth bud. Possibly alien invasion. It all adds to life’s rich tapestry.

Now something I am sure of, something that says SUMMER to me. I love gazanias, adore them. This year my journey to them was a little tortuous. Thanks to The Prof it eventually worked out well. Another happy ending.

Finally we have Cuphea lanceolata, grown this year from Hardy Plant Society seed. I haven’t grown cuphea for years. Quite why is a mystery.

All done, have a fab week, see you in the gloaming.

Introducing – Flora

It was the photo opportunity of a life time and I missed it. It involved a new friend. Her name is Flora, she is a Cavalier spaniel and I work in her garden. She is adorable. When I first met her she made such a fuss of me, I thought I must be something special. “She greets everyone like that” her owner told me. Oh well, for a moment I believed I was a superstar. It is a good talent to have, making people feel special.

Yesterday I was working on a raised bed, weeding and digging out an apocalyptic amount of bindweed. Flora’s Mum came out to mow the lawn and bought with her a delicious new chew to distract Her Ladyship. As soon as she had the treat safely in her jaws Flora dashed across the carefully weeded soil and started to dig a hole in which to bury it. At FM’s request I intervened, extracted the chew from its hiding place and handed it over to Mum. Flora was not impressed. In fact she came as close that a dog of her kindly nature could come to being ever so slightly miffed. Up and down the edge of the border she scurried, desperately searching for the missing chew, the likes of which had never been tasted before and would surely never materialise again.

I returned to wrestling with the deceptive bindweed. Suddenly there was a crash. I turned to find Flora in my trug, along with one of the large stones that edge this bed. She must have slipped and knocked the stone and fallen. To add insult to injury, both myself and FM burst out laughing. It would have been a fabulous photograph. Unfortunately, I was not armed at the time. Flora was not hurt by her misadventure, I lifted her out and all was well.

However, she was still not convinced that I hadn’t secreted her bounty. She set up a vigil with a “I’m very disappointed in you” look on her face. She also had a fair amount of valerian seed stuck to her ears which, in gentle revenge, I am sure she will distribute about the garden.

Six on Saturday – Can I See Your Invite, Please?

The weather has eventually broken. Thank goodness. Although I must warn you that the ETA for moaning about the rain and gloom is approximately one week. I am sure there will be many UK gardeners celebrating at the moment, none more so than Our Jim, guardian and holder of the sacred SoS baton.

Over the last few weeks I’ve notice a few interlopers at my garden party. These have not been sent an invite. This deceit is not always discouraged. As long as they don’t cause any problems, take more than their fair share of the finger-buffet or start a dancefloor fight, I’m very happy for the odd gate-crasher, as long as they know their place. Others are on the VIP list, front of the queue, in you come love, extra love. Both are here today. Shall we shimmy?

First we have a salvia grown this year from Hardy Plant Society seed. It was labelled “Salvia microphylla from Trelissick”. Having googled the aforementioned parent, I would say it didn’t fall far from the tree.

Next an unexpected marigold. I’m guessing it hitched a ride on the garden compost. It can stay. You can never have too many marigolds at a party.

Onto Echeveria ‘Perle von Nurnberg’ with associated raindrops. I deduced that it wouldn’t enjoy the moisture gathered at its centre. I tried to tip the water out but it got very messy, gravel mulch and gravity, you get the picture.

It would be remiss, rude even, to deny entrance to the Welsh Poppy.

Now one of my replacement (gone and wiped from my memory) pelargoniums. This is a regal named Covina.

Finally, the wonderful thug that is Diascia personata. Last year things got rather out of hand, this year, after a serious chat and an official warning, it is being much better behaved.

That’s yer lot, hope all is good with you all.

Trying

We live on a new housing estate. It is the first time we have lived in a modern house. We were fed up with the continual maintenance of an older property. To be honest we could no longer afford to keep it in the manner it had become accustomed or indeed deserved. One of the reasons we chose to buy a house on this particular estate was the green areas; old boundary hedges full of sloe and hawthorn had been retained, wooded areas with scrub and wildness and new planting of trees and beds of mixed shrubs. All too good to be true? Naturally.

Today I met with a local councillor to discuss the dire maintenance and rabid incompetence of the so-called landscapers. I have been finding it difficult to sit back and watch the arboricide. Trees have been strimmed to death and if the machines don’t get them then the inept staking and strangling ties will. Abandoned planting schemes are overgrown with weeds and dying from indifference. A bank of knotweed has been carefully trimmed into a hedge. It breaks my heart.

She listened to my concerns. She is up against a developer who is only interested in profit and greenwashing their activities. I am not hopeful my efforts will come to much, but I tried.

This little wallflower*, self-seeded between kerb and road, is also trying very hard. Possibly with more success than me.

* Nemesia of course 🤭 Thanks Noelle x