There has been much written in recent months about toxic garden plants. The ones that kill dogs, cats and children, seemingly willy-nilly. At the end of last year there was the tragic tale of a gardener who lost his life after coming into contact with aconites. Admiring this beautiful flower earlier in the week I was reminded of this young man and wondered what he would have thought of the ensuing witch hunt. At the time, and indeed since, the media have recounted many tales of horticultural horrors and demons. Another big bad bogie man (or woman) just waiting to harm us. To many in the gardening community reports that merely “brushing past” could result in death were held with some skepticism. Incidents of poisoning are few and far between in our profession, unlike accidents involving ladders, lawn mowers and (eyes squeezed tight) chainsaws. The world is a dangerous place, so we must teach our children not to walk in front of cars, not to put their hand in the flame, not to jump in the deep end if they can’t swim. We must also teach them not to eat plants unless they have been told it is safe to do so. Mistakes inevitably happen, with sometimes catastrophic consequences, and I am sure this unfortunate event made us a little bit more careful, for a while anyway. It is terribly sad that this son, husband and father’s life was cut short but I am sure, as a gardener, he would not have wanted his poignant story to make a pariah of these wonderful flowers. So do not lock up your daughters (and sons) safe from the dangers lurking outside, let them out into the wicked world and have some fun!
Enough
Sometimes a nasturtium is enough.
The Note
When I arrived at the House on the Edge of Exmoor this morning my first task was to wander around the garden. The early sun was warm and I took a few photographs and observed what had been happened since I was there a week previously. The amount of work The Beasts had done in my absence was impressive. I admired the freshly cleared areas and the new planting, I cooed over the baby courgettes and marvelled at the splendid spinach, the previously rescued areas were weed free and the plants looked healthy and the well-loved. All was in fine fettle.
Then I found this note.
ps I do not have swollen knee syndrome, they are my knee pads.
pps The halo is real.
Things I never thought I’d say – Part One
“There are two chickens in the boot of my car.”
Just Visiting – Part Two
Another visit to a wonderful garden, The Round House in Ilfracombe. It was as spectacular as ever, with its steep paths winding through borders stuffed with a myriad of horticultural splendors and views to the sea beyond, and it has been tricky to decide which plant to feature. It would have been too obvious to feature the apricot, crimson and baby pink rhododendrons, or the exotic Geranium maderense dripping over the paths throughout the garden, or cut-leaved acers in gold and blood red, or the metallic shine of Elaeagnus “Quicksilver”, the ever flowering Fuchsia splendens, or even the sky-high embothrium and its slightly smaller offspring in full scarlet flower. Instead I will show you Echium candicans; the perennial, bushier, multi-headed sister of the statuesque Echium pininana. With flowers of gentian blue, contrasting with deep pink stamen it is as popular with bees as its fellows. It is also very popular with me. So, using all my powers of autosuggestion, coercive persuasion, the Vulcan mind meld and some delicate intimation I managed to obtain some cuttings. It went something like this “I read last night that you can successfully take cuttings from this echium, as long as they are taken now, I mean right now, just this very instant.” Big Hollywood smile, whilst saying “hint, hint”. And it worked! I came home with a plastic bag of bounty. They are now safely in place and I am using my new-found psychic abilities to assist in the rooting process. It must of course be mentioned that the morning was further enhanced by the lovely hosts, a special guest appearance from my old (less of the old) friend Hero and some delicious lemon drizzle cake. It’s a hard life, but someone’s got to do it!
Blundering Giant
I upset a lot of ants yesterday. It probably amounted to several nests full and that adds up to a lot of grumpy critters. This wasn’t done intentionally, you must understand. I was quite innocently going about my business pulling weed out of a wall, as is my remit, when my unwitting faux pas occurred. Little did I know this was not any ordinary wall, it was an ant metropolis, and the citizens were not happy. Although I am not an expert in these matters I guessed by their reaction (the squirting and the nipping) they were indeed livid. Risking their further wrath (from a safe distance) I took a few moments to study how they reacted to the blundering giant’s destruction of their home. It was mesmerising to watch Ant Emergency Procedure (Invasion) being put into action. To see how they efficiently mobilised their troops, some to ward off their attacker (little old me) and some to rescue the enormous eggs. Nature is truly a wonderful thing, shame about the Blundering Giants.
Protest
Arrived at Spotty Dotty’s this morning to find a tree-top protest going on in the magnolia. By the size of the bucket I would imagine Little Ted is planning to stay up there a long time. Someone must have really upset him.
Just Visiting
There is nothing better than visiting a garden. When that garden is so beautiful that it is an education, an inspiration and heartwarming in equal parts it is even better. If this little Eden has been created by good friends who ply you with homemade Bakewell tart and cheese scones (my personal favourite) then it adds up to a perfect morning. And it was!
Added Bonus
Today we had a Prunefest at Lionel and Lavinia’s. Camelias and azalias, forsythia and flowering currant were all under the knife, secateurs, pruners and saw. A parade of green bins were filled, begged and borrowed from neighbours, and Lionel did his famous stomp to ensure not even one more leaf would fit in to the cavernous containers. It was a fruitful and rewarding day and what is more I didn’t say “oops” once. This controlled chopping was only halted by some heavy North Devon mizzle, fleeting but penetrating. All the while we worked we were blessed by the scent of a philadelphus that had nipped over the fence from next door. It is good to share.
Slasher Sid
A Play in One Scene
Me: Hello Slasher would you please strim this area, the shrubs are obvious, the only things you have to avoid are these three plants (points to healthy Rudbeckia fulgida specimens that have previously shrugged off attempts by the Easter bunny, Clara Cluck, a JCB and tree surgeon to do them harm).
Slasher Sid: No problem, I will do that straight away. Do not fear, your precious plants are safe with me.
Short Interlude
Mrs George (laughing in a totally inappropriate manner): Has Slasher spoken to you yet? He has strimmed the plants you asked him to avoid.
Me: Oh dear, that is a shame.
Sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth as the horticultural ambulance approaches to take the victims to intensive care.
The End
Off The Edge Gardening 