Off The Edge Gardening

Sweet peas, the scent of which takes us back to summers past and gives us hope for those to come.  These fine specimens have been tended by Lady Mantle who has taken her role of guardian very seriously.  She has diligently removed tendrils before they could contort and sully the blooms, tying in the now anchorless stems to sturdy canes.  She has picked on regular basis encouraging a steady flow of flowers and scanned for foes who wish to nibble on the new shoots.  The upshot of this dedication is that the Mantle ancestral home is full of fragrance and there have been plenty to share with friends, neighbours and serfs.

Arbutus unedo is strawberry by name but definitely not strawberry by nature.   Admiring the peeling cinamon bark, ivory bell flowers and luscious looking fruit will have to suffice as the Strawberry Tree is not a tasty specimen.  Pliny the Elder apparently commented after tasting just one of the tempting berries “unum tantum edo” meaning “I eat only one”.  Enough said.

The much maligned lily stamen, replete with granules of rich ochre pollen.  Often ceremoniously snipped before they can stain your best frock, drop onto the cream pile carpet or mar the Maltese terrier.  This is a great pity, they are as beautiful as the exotic blooms they bless.

Today I was digging up couch grass at The Farm.  If you laid all the roots that I painstakingly removed end to end it would stretch to the moon and back.  No exaggeration.  On the plus side we picked the first apples of the season, the forecast doom and destruction didn’t arrive until the end of the day and we had quadruple chocolate biscuits (yes quadruple!).  Just as the monsoon got going, and I was planning my escape, Mrs Duck waddled past with her new brood on the way to the pond.  Looks like she is taking better care of this lot.  Please forgive the quality of the picture, it might have been fine for ducks but it was dreadful weather for photographers!

It was my first day at a new job today, which is always a little scary.  It is one I have talked about previously, you may remember, the one with all the exotic plants and a puppy called Max.  For some reason I was more nervous than usual and couldn’t quite put my finger on it.  Perhaps it was fear of the unknown, or fear of failure, but more likely it was the abject terror of negotiating the hairpin turn and vertiginous drive.  So when the approach was mastered, albeit in an inappropriate gear (will do better next time), I felt a little better.  As I reach the house I noticed a shining white sail in the garden behind.  I was grandly welcomed by the gorgeous Max, who ensured I was fed, watered and looked after for the whole day (which I might add was as glorious as a cliché summers day).  What is more, my introduction to this lovely garden was working beneath this beautiful eucryphia, the alabaster sheet spotted earlier, where I was serenaded by an avian choir.  I really had no reason to be worried.

Municipal planting is often derided as out-dated and starchy, almost laughable, at least sniggerable.  Today I would like to stick my head above the horticultural parapet and fight the provisional park’s corner.  Taking a short cut through Runnymede Gardens in Ilfracombe this morning, I was taken back by the beauty and vibrancy of the borders and beds.  And I was not alone.   I was thrilled to watch visitors marvel at the gleaming treats and examine the blooms from near and far alike, much as you would in a Botanic Garden. So what I would say to the doubters is “get your fashion blinkers off and take a gander at this lot”.

This is a tricky time of the year.  Planting schemes are often worn out after half a summer of copious flowering and gaps are plugged with pots or something from the substitutes bench.  These however are still going strong, they have coped with early drought, torrential downpours and wicked winds, not to mention the worse menace of them all, the public. Individually and en masse, they are magnificent, a testament to great design and careful and knowledgeable maintenance.

And as for the bandstand ………

“When we were out today we bought some plants!” “Horror!  The bloomin’ cheek of it, anyone would think it was your garden, who told you that could you go out unaccompanied and buy just anything willy nilly.  I hope you got something decent, if it is forsythia or cotoneaster I will faint.”  “We have planted everything we bought” “Well that will be another job for me, rearranging and replanting and trying to make the best of clumsy and clashing work, too close, too deep, too far apart, not deep enough …..” “Come and see the new plants.” “Deep breath – oxalis, pulmonaria, brunnera, all placed perfectly with an artist’s eye and with care and attention.  By golly someone taught you well!”  Two gold stars on the chart for Lord and Lady Mantle, they done good.

On balance it was a very good day at Lionel and Lucinda’s.  A day of many parts.  It was Flying Ant Day; a curious and slightly sinister version of Formicidae relocation.  It was a Day of Welcome Gifts, of cut and come again and rocket, of home-made mackerel pate and elderflower cordial.  On the downside it was a Dig up a Truck Load of Crocosmia in the Vain Hope you will get Rid of Them Day and a Swelter in the Unexpected Summer Weather Day.  Far outweighing the hard slog was  the Fall in Love all Over Again with Cosmos from Cerise through Pictoee to Virgin White Day.  All in all there are no complaints.