Six on Saturday – Wild Week

Well that was a wild one. Prolonged below zero temperatures, the first named storm of the year, which reeked havoc in my home county, and shocking world events that both boil the blood and freeze the soul. Thank goodness we have each other. Jim at Garden Ruminations keeps us all on track and if you want to enjoy some Six on Saturday posts from around the world, pop over to his site to find succour. Time for sixing!

Correa backhousiana has hardy skipped a beat in this vile weather, some of the flowers are ice scorched but there are plenty of buds to replace them. All hail the correa!

This was a bit of a desperate shot. Lamium ‘Silver Beacon’ is there all the time, in the background, just doing its thing. I have been saving it for when I can’t find others. Which is today. Bit sad really. It is a lovely thing.

This mini-Miscanthus sinensis Zebrinus managed to muster just one flower this year. A crimped tress, perhaps more beautiful in its solitude. Perhaps I’m over romanticing its lack of effort.

It dropped to -4.2C in my unheated greenhouse, which is a bit of a worry. Earlier I peeked under the fleeces and all seems OK. I have seen things pretend to be unbothered before. I will not get my hopes up. I would imagine all the dahlias I left in situ are doomed to mush. With risk, one must be prepared for fails.

The Geranium palmatum in the garden has flopped and unflopped all week. It must be getting a little weary.

This little unnamed cyclamen never lets me down. A constant in the chaos.

Special shout out to my esteemed client, sparring partner and friend, The Prof AKA JK, who is not too well at the moment. You don’t get rid of me that easily! Get well soon.

Waste Not

Most of the Christmas goodies have gone. They have not been half-inched by an evil piskie in the dead of night, we have eaten them and very lovely they were too. All that remains is half a box of After Eights (I haven’t checked for empty wrappers so this may be an over-estimate), some pfeffernusse and the remains of a tin of peanuts. Up until yesterday there was also the majority of a sultana studded, marzipan stuffed stollen.

I am not a great lover of the sugary. OH is the polar opposite. This is a reflection of our relationship. Jack Sprat and all that. I do however like ice cream and I love toast. And I hate waste. A quandry indeed.

As they say, necessity is the mother of invention and the stollen needed to be eaten. Which is how I devised the wonder that is toasted stollen topped with vanilla ice cream. It is, I modestly say, absolutely delicious. OH agrees. A post-Christmas miracle.

Of course, this innovation might well have been previously and frequently invented elsewhere. It is safest to say, for fear of reproach and irate pointy fingers in my direction, that I was the first person in our house to formulate this wonder. Now, I just need a name ……

Six on Saturday – Starting How I Mean to Go On

I was very keen to participate in this week’s Six on Saturday. It is the first of the year, at a time when there are slim pickings in the garden, all the more reason that I should show willing. It was time to prise myself out of the chair, kick start my imagination and find a solution. A challenge. Start how I mean to go on. I’m not going to take the easy option this year. Oh no, not me!

I trundled outside, camera in hand, looking for inspiration. And I didn’t find any, none at all, in fact it was the opposite of inspiration, which is apparently, according to the thesaurus, disincentive. After mere minutes outside, which some might say was a pathetic attempt, I returned inside, packed up my camera and declared to anyone who wished to hear “I’m not SoSing this week”. That was that. No one was going to force me to do anything I didn’t want to do this year.

Chilli halloumi, salad and sourdough for lunch and I was ready for a stroll before the light faded. All at once my disincentive vanished, my inspiration made a much missed reappearance, a light bulb illuminated. I would take photos for my blog on our walk. Which is almost our garden. That was that. No one was going to force me to stick to the rules this year.

Our SoS leader, Jim at Garden Ruminations, has been known to bend the rules a little, but he never misses a week. Fair play young man! Shall we proceed?

If someone was to ask what my favourite bud was, as could well happen with the company I tend to keep, black matt Ash would definitely be in my top ten. Which makes Fraxinus excelsior‘s recent troubles especially sad.

With great enthusiasm and little aforethought, various beds and borders have been planted on my estate. After which no one pays them any mind except to cruelly strim them when they get totally overgrown. Surprise, surprise, you need to implement a maintenance plan!!!! Sole survivors of one such scheme are several dark leaved phormiums, relics and reminders of those lost.

From dark into bright! A psychedelic ivy leaf blocked my way and demanded its place on this New Year’s post. I have argued with such foliage before, it is best to concede without a fuss.

A stand of pines, remaining from our estate’s wilder days, hang over the cycle/pedestrian way. Every time I pass beneath these elegant beauties, a cone finds its way to snuggle in my pocket, it will rediscovered on another outing. Today was no exception.

Art installation. Not sure I can think of any other explanation.

I am a lichen lover. Which sounds like the first line of a jaunty poem. Feel free to finish it off for me.

There we have it, Six on Saturday, close to home but not home itself. I’ve started how I mean to go on. Slightly chaotic, contrary, but meaning well. No change there. Happy New Year, my friends, here’s hoping the good guys win in 2026.

Discombobulated

I’ve not had the best day.

Yesterday we had a family get together and second Christmas. Unfortunately, OH is not very well and stayed at home eating medicinal mini cheddars and drinking Irn Bru.  Don’t worry, I told him, it’s only one night and I’ll be home before you know it. Sniff, he said.

It was a lovely day full of much fun and laughter. Later Peggy and I decamped back to her house  to watch The Christmas Repair Shop and drink tea.  All was still ticketyboo.

This morning I awoke to find an email from Jim with his Six on Saturday post. I really had a shock, how did all those days drift away without me noticing?

After a morning of farewells, hoovering and a little gardening, I set to return to the poorly person. Except my car wouldn’t start. Again. My attempt was foiled. 

The Green Flag man jump started the car and I drove it around to my BBBs (best big brother) house where it is now charging. Tomorrow, hopefully, I will get a new battery installed and I will get home safe and sound.

In the meantime, it’s another night at Mum’s and I’ll keep my fingers crossed for the morning. I went for a walk around the village to stretch my legs and calm my spirits and visit the local shop for supplies. I stood for a moment at the duck pond and a flash of blue crossed my sight. A kingfisher!  How wonderful!

BOGOF: An Extra and Seasonal Greetings

I worked yesterday morning. It was just for an hour or so, but it still constitutes a renege on my sworn, cross my heart, pinky promise, signed in blood, sealed with salty tears, sabatical.

In my defense it was an extra, not one of my real clients, just a daliance. Perhaps you will be kind in this season of good will.

In July, as I shared in my post Fist Pump, I planted up my neighbour’s raised beds, shall we call him Percy Porsche. Since then I have only visited once for a little primp. I could see over the fence that the cosmos were doing well, the grasses were growing and the lilies bloomed beautifully. The plants were good quality and I had faith all would be well. PP seemed to think that he could cope and promised to contact me if necessary. Although at times my curiosity was excruciating, I decided to leave him to it with minimal input from me.

That is until the stickified cosmos were poking their heads above the fence and their ragged limbs were taunting me. I messaged Percy, offering my horticultural services, and after several weeks of incessant rain I managed to find a window of opportunity, before debauchery got into full swing. It took just an hour to assess, weed, tidy and make plans for the spring. I am very happy with how things have fared, a couple of specimens are “lost in action”, but on the whole it has been a great success. Although I dreaded getting out there again, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, I’m already looking forward to starting back again in February.

We should consider more pressing things. It is time again for indulgence and indigestion, or is that just our house? I am eyeing up the Twiglets and I am not sure how much longer my resolve will last. We are ready, we are eager, let the celebrations begin. But first it is time for the latest tree decoration reveal. This ceramic bauble was made by my good friend Sarah. I am blessed with clever and talented friends who incessantly impress me with their many and varied skills. Much, much, more than that, and with far greater importance, they are compassionate and loyal and my greatest allies. I consider myself extremely fortunate and I should say it more often. Happy Christmas to all of you, thanks for being who you are, thanks for being in my life, please keep on doing what you are doing, you have got this friendship lark down to a tee.

Whoever you are, friend, aquaintance or just someone passing through, I wish you all peace and joy and love. See you on the other side.

Six on Saturday – Christmas Shopping

This week I have been doing some Christmas shopping. You may need this statement to be clarified. If you define Christmas Shopping as “the purchasing of assorted goods undertaken during the festive period in order to acquire gifts for your loved ones or to further the joy of the glorious occasion with delicate sweetmeats and general fripperies” you have caught the wrong train. What I am referring to is “any shopping in December, most especially when visiting a Garden Centre which has half price bulbs and other such bargains that you most definitely deserve and would be a sin to leave behind.” I didn’t go crazy, I have more than enough to cosset over the winter months, but even a little temptation is still temptation. Shall we proceed?

A packet of twelve assorted alliums for £1. I rest my case. The ground is far too wet to even attempt planting this miscellany into the garden. They will do very nicely in their pots until the time for them find their rightful place.

This fabulous Plectranthus ciliatus ‘Nico’ was a gift from Welsh John. Now flowering its little heart out in the greenhouse, the blooms are a bonus as the foliage is more than enough on its own.

These primulas are destined for Peggy’s house. As a lovely little combo, I also bought some Blue Heaven tulips which I will plant in the pot before I put these atop. I couldn’t make my mind up which colour to buy so I rang her from the shop with her options. A great choice.

This very happy and healthy Euphorbia x martini ‘Ascot Rainbow’ was marked down to £5. Surely, if I had left it behind, you would have doubted my sanity. I do have a little “form” with this wonderful plant. I hope for better luck this time. As it does.

I have been letting the seed pods of the Iochroma australe ripen on the plant. There is a strong chance that they are just rotting on the plant. This little flier was enjoying a drink from the raindrop suspended on the browning globe. I could pretend that this was an intentional shot, but I doubt you would believe me.

I do not wish to tempt fate but the Salvia curviflora appears to be unstoppable this year. It is now quite woody, which I am sure helps its hardiness. Hopefully the wrath of chance will not now unleash its displeasure on me and my trustlings.

After that rather over egged conclusion, I will retire to the chesterfield with a large glass of port. Happy Christmas all ye Sixers and a great big festive thanks to our very own spiritual leader Jim at Garden Ruminations.

Sorted

At this time of year it is impossible to get anything dry. The washing, naturally. Rain soaked coats, of course. But more importantly, my seed for storage. The greenhouse, although wonderful in almost every way, is not the ideal place for dessication. The atmosphere is sodden, with odd drips and various leaks that I generally forgive and forget. However, this is not the ideal environment to prepare seed before putting them away til the spring. Which is why I bring them into the house to process and bag up.

Last year I had a mini-catastrophe. Laden with a tottering tower of various open containers, I stepped from outside up into the back room, tripped and the whole lot fell to the ground. Ripe words may have been uttered. The mess was swept up and a feeble attempt at identifying some was swifted followed by a temper tantrum. All was thrown in the compost bin in a diva-ish fashion.

Never one to knowingly learn by my mistakes, there was a certain jeopardy in today’s task, but I had put off my seed transportation for too long. I did however limit my load to just three punnets at a time, perhaps I am evolving into a sensible person. Time will tell.

This pot was marked as Dark, Dark Dahlia. As I sat, contemplative, extracting the nuggets of potential from their papery cocoons, I thought “Thank goodness I don’t do this for a living, I’m bored now.”. One down, a whole lot more to go!

Six on Saturday – Underwhelming

I am a little worried this week. It seems that I have inadvertently magnified the glory of our violas. They are quite nice, but it would be hyperbole to suggest anything more. Of course, you can judge for yourselves, but please do not expect too much. The weight of expectation on the poor little darlings’ shoulders is immense. Be kind, that is all I can ask. Someone who would never be cruel or unduly critical is our Six on Saturday leader, Jim at Garden Ruminations. Fingers crossed. Shall we proceed?

First we have Correa schlechtendalii, a stalwart in the winter garden. Years ago, when I was at college, a fellow student announced that she would be bringing back her summer wardrobe the following term. As we glanced at each other, rather puzzled, my good friend Gumby (indeed) said “my summer wardrobe is the same as my winter wardrobe without the cardigans.”. I am sure you get my point. Cardigans on.

Geum seedlings are doing well, potted up and loved, but at the mercy of the elements. They don’t seem bothered. Unfortunately, embarrassingly, I can’t remember which geum I picked the seed from. When they flower it will be a lovely surprise.

Acacia dealbata ‘Gaulois Astier’ has thrived since I planted it in the garden. It is full of flower bud so hopefully will give us a fine display in the near future. I am in total denial at the sense of planting such a tree in a mini-plot such as ours. Life is short, too short for sensible.

The garlic is doing well. I went against my own advice. Although I planted named and carefully bred varieties for others, for us, in last minute desperation, I split a particularly lovely bulb that I had bought from the supermarket. Don’t tell.

Here they are, a little bowl of violas. Some munched, some weather beaten, few photogenic. They have done their best. They have a lot to live up to.

The fabulous Torrington Tina gave us this sign. In summer it is hidden behind vegetation, to be honest it is redundant then. Now is the time that we need to be reminded. TT is a star, she knows what’s what.

All done, another six, another Sunday. Nearly there.

Six on Saturday – On Repeat

Earlier this week, I was swanning around the garden looking for SoS inspiration and my OH asked why I wasn’t taking any pictures of the violas. “I’m saving them for when I’m desperate, later in the month”, I explained. “Aren’t you allowed to repeat your subjects?”, he queried. “No fear!” I exaggerated, gasping for maximum drama, “I will be struck off the register, sent to Coventry and our leader Jim at Garden Ruminations will give me one of his virtual withering looks.” “Humpf”, said OH. He was undoubtedly impressed by my self control and discipline and my ability to abide by the rules of a strict and uncompromising sect.

Of course, that is a load of nonsense, we are all pretty flexible and inclusive in these parts. Which is just as well as I have repeated, on more than one occasion, and most especially today, from earlier in this year and decade. Just to make a point. Just to reinforce how tolerant to any form of rule bending we are in the SoS clan.

The lady do protest too much. Time to move on.

The Pyrus ‘Chanticleer’ is always late to lose its leaves and this year is no exception, in spite of the strong winds we’ve suffered. Possibly needs a trim, but not before it is fully unclad. It is on my list.

There are many soggy plants in the garden, including this nasturtium, which had been climbing up the Cercis canadensis ‘Forest Pansy’. I have no doubt it will have spread its seed and will return to colonise again next year. No sadness here.

Never, ever mess with a marigold, they are as tough as they come. You will always lose an arm wrestle with a marigold, you have been warned.

After one of the dahlia seedlings died back in its pot, an interloper was revealed. If I am not mistaken this is Verbascum olympicum. How, why and where it came from is a complete mystery. This giant cannot stay here. I will have to gently extract it and rehome it in a more appropriate place. Like next door.

Sometimes, after a frosty spell, I am unsure whether something is just frozen in time or has indeed shrugged off the intense cold. This Digitalis isabelliana ‘Bella’ is one such case. Doesn’t seem bothered at all. But perhaps it is a death mask.

Another late leaf dropper is this Ribes sanguineum ‘King Edward VII’, although I don’t recall it ever being this tardy before. I also don’t remember it giving such a beautiful autumnal/winter show before. Let us reconvene this time next year and compare notes.

There we have it, another six, another Saturday. Stay safe and happy.

Extended Sabbatical

This year The Boss, AKA me, has decided to give the whole company, AKA me, not only January but December off. She decided that as it is only three and a bit weeks to Christmas, which are are bound to be soggy and miserable, which makes her soggy and miserable, it wasn’t worth the heartache. Dreamily frosty days, as we had last week, are a rare and rather cruel reminder of what we don’t have here in South Wales. Everything is mushy, everything squelches and my heart isn’t in it. I trudge about like a petulant youth, slipping and sliding and counting the minutes to home time. I am best off out of it and my clients are best off without me. That is until February, when I will bounce back full of vim and vigour, and at least half a box of Cadbury’s Celebrations.

Today, the first day of my extended sabbatical, there is a localised orange flood warning in place, the rain is torrential and the gusting wind is reaching every nook and corner. I feel fully vindicated.