Off The Edge Gardening

Like candied sky, this lithodora flower sparkled in the spring sunshine.

Sometimes a day is more difficult than it deserves to be.  It was a little like that today.  For no particular reason, I was more Eeyore than Tigger.  Lavinia, not tip top herself, was patience itself whilst I walked into bird tables, tripped over bricks and generally staggered about the place like a lump of over-proven dough.  Just as I was leaving, a little tulip caught my eye.  Earlier we had been inspecting this bed and it was yet to open, it made for a precious private moment.  Now tell me that pink and yellow don’t go.  If you dare.

I found this in the Farm greenhouse today.  Thought I would leave it with you.  Got to rush …..

Yellow, who would have thought it.  That was a nice surprise.

In my humble opinion, there is little to beat a good euphorbia.  Euphorbia amygdaloides “Purpurea” is such a plant.  Aubergine foliage with raspberry splattered lime green flowers.  Tasty.

Roots
When a phormium bursts out of its plastic pot you know it is ready for action.  More accurately it is time for your action.  Last week this constricted monster was divided and planted out in various areas of Max’s garden, where it is sure to flourish.  The strength and versatility of these feeding, anchoring, storing and propagating organs is immense and admirable.  Lying below the surface, supporting the show boys and gals, it is not often they are examined or appreciated.  We should remind ourselves once in a while that they are both the beginning and the end.  They should be respected and nurtured if you want vigorous, healthy plants.  Once you get past the idea that they look like a heaving orgy of Amazonian snakes, the turmeric coloured roots are quite beautiful too.

Routes
Didn’t serve me so well today.  On my way to the du Maurier’s I came across a “Road Ahead Closed” sign part way into my journey.  A handbrake turn later and I was faithfully following the diversion signs until, 14 miles later, I ended up at a sign saying “End of Diversion” followed by “Road Closed”.  Concerned that I had inadvertently become embroiled in some kind of avant garde film, possibly Swedish, definitely in monochrome, representing the meaningless of life in mime form, I made my pathetic excuses, “I can’t get there!”,  and went home.   A little Miss Marplesque investigation later and it seems that the “Road Ahead Closed” actually meant,”Five Miles Ahead, Well Past the Place You Are Destined, The Road is Closed and If You Follow the Diversion Signs You Will Only Reach the Other End of the Closed Road and With It Intense Frustration”.  In their defence, I suppose they didn’t have a large enough sign.

This osteospermum has over wintered in the relatively balmy conditions of the greenhouse at The Farm.  Last autumn I dug up a few “just in case’s” which have turned into “just as well’s”.  The harsh winds have scorched those that were left to fend for themselves, their frazzled leaves painful to behold.  How well they will recover is yet to be seen, but if they have succumbed then we have back up.  As the days and nights get warmer, and encouraged with either a repot or dose of organic fertiliser, soon the pampered few will be sprouting new cutting material.  I can then propagate enough to grace the garden for another year.  The text book tells us to remove these flowers so the plant can concentrate on foliage rather than expending excess energy on frivolous flowers.  These early season blooms are worth a thousand later in the season, so bah sucks to you text book, I will take my chances!

I have dedicated the past ten years minutes of my life to undertake a far reaching anthropological and psychosocial study.  This has involved heated debate, probing interrogation, international espionage and a barely sharp pencil.  It is a two-fold study.  The aims were:

1.  To examine the emotional and physical affects on a nominated person (me) of working outside on a warm but bracing spring day.
2.  To examine the same affects on said person (still me) who has throughout that day been planting potatoes, potting on tomatoes and building badger defences (with a little help from my friend and Strauss).

After careful interpretation using revolutionary analytical procedures, many new to academia, I have come to the following conclusions:

1. Brilliant
2. Better.

A full report will follow.  Thanks must go to my mentors at University of the Bloomin’ Obvious.

These are radish seedlings.  To germinate these peppery balls takes all the skill of a brick.  Still, the sight of their leaves popping out of the ground is an unfailing joy to me.

It is not only plants that are waking as the days lengthen and the air warms.  This newt was roused from his slumbers in Max’s garden today, perhaps a tad prematurely.  Fear not, soon he was safely relocated to a new home to wake gently. Later a big fat toad was found dozing in the wood pile and swiftly joined his fellow in Amphibian Towers.  Others, such as chunky slugs and root chomping weevils, were met with a less compassionate welcome.

On my drive to work this morning, whilst meandering in the general direction of the Grand Estate of Lord and Lady Mantle, I glimpsed the above scene.  An emergency stop later and some darned fine reversing and I was stepping out to wonder at its beautiful other worldliness.  A dank and dark tunnel of lichen encrusted, stunted twisted trees collapsing over a murky brook, which on occasion is most likely a torrent.  Dry stone walls repossessed by vegetation bordered the scene as a crocodile creeped silently through the gloom, preparing to pounce.

Then I jumped back in the car and continued on my way, back into the sunshine and a glorious spring day.