Not A Fall

Yesterday I had a little mishap at work. I was carrying a large trug of woodchip in order to mulch a recently planted crab apple by the pond, which I was transporting from a pile by the polytunnel. High ground to low ground, makes sense. Or does it? As bad luck would have it, I stood on a loose piece of rubble which caused me to lose my balance and that darned demon gravity catapulted my poor vulnerable self down three stone steps, prevented by going any further by a short wall. On my bouncing way I hit another retaining wall, dislodging the coping stone with a part of my body which could have been knee, arm or back, considering later examination of injuries.

I was on my own. I had left my phone up in the cool of the pergola as it was over heating. My first thoughts were, that wasn’t very clever. My second thoughts took a quick mental road trip around my prostrate form. Wrist? Sore but fingers still move. Leg? Sore, but foot still moves. Elbow? Scraped but not badly. Hand? Bit of blood but nothing serious. Back? Feels a bit twisted. Head? A smidge confused. Stomach? Feeling a little bit sick. Third thoughts were “Well, the cavalry isn’t coming, so you better see if you can stand up”. Up I staggered, picked up my glasses (not broken), abandoned the trug (not a drop spilt) and my tools (none of which had impaled me) and slowly headed to shade, a cool drink and an assessment of the situation.

My assessment was that I had been extremely lucky, I hadn’t hit my head, I hadn’t fallen into the pond/lake, I hadn’t broken anything (except the wall) and, although a little battered and bruised, I will live to fight another day.

OH said “you would have been alright if you had landed on your bottom”. That helped.

But please don’t call it “a fall”, it was a perhaps inevitable accident given the nature of my job. Falls are what old infirm people have and they generally are not carrying large trugs of woodchip. I’m not read for “falls” just yet.

One thing I will take from this, apart from trying to land on my bottom in future, is that my phone will be with me at all times. Just in case I need to call for the cavalry.

Six on Saturday – Le Tour

July, who’d have thought it? It will soon be school holidays (better journey to work for me), Peggy’s birthday (cream teas, always good), rain, Tour de France (niche, I know). Oh, and glorious gardens. If you would like to admire some of these wonders then pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations who hosts our frivolous gang. Shall we get on?

I always struggle to take a decent photograph of Salvia ‘Neon’, perhaps my camera isn’t up to the job, perhaps it is a user problem. Today I attempted by stealth and have pretended to take a picture of a nigella in an attempt to capture the salvia’s incredible luminous pink. Failed again.

This is the first sunflower in our garden to bloom. Is it camera shy or just rather rude?

Another Pollies daylily in the garden is Hemerocallis ‘Yabba Dabba Doo’. I bought it for OH a couple of years ago. He never mentions it. Perhaps he thinks I bought it because he reminds me of Fred Flintstone and is wounded. I like FF.

Geranium palmatum and a feral calendula make an unlikely but harmonious couple.

There is a nursery not too far from here that has a fabulous range of the more unusual and I am like a moth to a flame. This Salvia fulgens was bought last year and now it is rewarding me. I had a little flutter the other day, a few more beauties that I can’t pretend are for clients.

Dahlia ‘Labyrinth’, what can I say? Crazy, in the best possible way.

There we have it, another six, another Saturday, another month. And its raining.

Fist Pump

I was talking with Welsh John yesterday about how we can all make a difference in this world. However small it might be, every positive action counts. All those little pluses add up to one humdinger. You get the gist.

My neighbour, a bachelor with one of those jobs that however many times he explains is still a mystery to me, has recently had his garden landscaped. It is the thing of horticultural nightmares. As the work proceeded I quizzed him, trying not to judge or sob too loudly. As he explained the three patio areas, the vast expanse of plastic lawn, the fire pit, barbeque area and the night lighting, he must have noticed the tears rolling down my face. “I will be having some planters around the edge” he explained, trying to console me. “Then you must employ me to plant them up for you”, I insisted. At least I could make some kind of attractive privacy screen between our gardens.

This spring the time arrived for action and I duly visited his pristine home to make plans, notepad and sharpened pencil in hand. It soon became apparent that his knowledge of gardening was basic. Or perhaps a little below basic. His interest was on a similar level. When asked what colours he liked, the answer was “green”. OK. He wasn’t really into flowers. OK. Do you like tropical. “Not really” Bamboo? “No” Ferns “Oh, I don’t mind ferns, what are ferns again?”. “Not too tall, or too big, I like to see over the fence.” There goes the screen. My mission was to create a green, low, planting scheme with no flowers. Unlikely.

I ordered a variety of gorgeous foliage plants and snuck in a fair amount of bloomers. Carefully squeezing past the black Porsche to the equally shiny garden, the beauties were duly planted, watered and instructions given for not blasting them out of the ground with the hose on full power. He was happy.

Yesterday, I passed a tomato plant over the fence to him, which he had said he was keen to have a go growing, like his grandfather had done in the past. Whilst chatting and checking on the state of his garden, explaining about dead heading and weeding, he suddenly exclaimed with glee “I’ve got a bee on one of my plants!”. I leapt in the air, fist pumping in a way inappropriate to my age, exclaiming “My plan worked!” . It’s a start. And it made me very, very happy.

These photos are of my garden; tall, colourful, floriferous and full of bees. This would not suit everyone, including my neighbour, but his more ordered planting will similarly offer some sanctuary for wildlife and some nicer views for next door. Every positive action counts.

Six on Saturday – Honest

I am sat here thinking about what happened this week, something of interest that I could share with you. Nope. Nothing comes to mind. Nothing of note. It rained, it sunned, I worked, I saw a kingfisher. It was just fine. And it also seemed a little bit overwhelming. You know – weeds, blackfly, slugs, weather; battles that we accept are part of our gardening lives, but also forget how challenging they can be. My resting state of optimism was battling to find the air. Just a blip in my cartwheeling world, I am sure. Head down, keep going, all will be well and there will be more joyful skipping. If you would like to find out how the rest of Six on Saturday gang are getting on, pop over to our leader Jim and all will be revealed. Less burbling, more sixing!

Earlier today my OH looked out the window and said “I like daisies, they remind me of you”. I think he meant wild and common. Unlike this Leucanthum x superbum which, although not rare, is very definitely much more civilised than I am.

Certain plants will follow an untidy gardener around the country. This is one of them, Linaria purpurea, and very welcome it is too.

The Woolies acers are doing well in their pots. If I ever tell you that I have planted them in the ground then you will know that I am planning long term. Not ready yet.

Dark leaved orange/red flowered dahlia. A monster.

Where did this little scabious come from? I sowed some white scabious seed so perhaps this is an aberration. Or perhaps the white was the freak.

Today a dragonfly was in the garden. Our plot is an estate oasis surrounded by plastic grass, hard landscaping and “garden rooms”; God forbid if your kids or dogs got muddy! The sighting of this golden ringed dragonfly (I looked it up) made me very happy. Good will out. I’m counting on it.

And, after all, I saw a kingfisher, surely that warrants a skip!?

Six on Saturday – Special Day

This year I am determined not to get despondent on the Summer Solstice, as is my wont. I will celebrate and wear flowers in my hair and live in the glorious moment, I may even frolic a little. Then we can begin rapid the descent into winter and gloom and despair. As usual, I exaggerate, although I do feel a little pang of, I’m not sure what to call it, perhaps mild dread. Of course our Sosers will be celebrating, or otherwise, some solstice or another, pop over to our leader, Jim at Garden Ruminations, and find out if it is all uphill or all downhill from here.

I am very fond of both salvias and dahlias, both of which are beginning to shine. This is a rather blurry (more breezes, honest guv!) Salvia ‘Nachvlinder’ along side a dahlia seedling from last year.

A calendula self-seeder, always welcome, seldom weeded.

This Salvia microphylla ‘Trelissick’ was grown from HPS seed a couple of years ago. How true to type this is I can’t say, but I am rather fond of it, especially the fluffy pink bits.

I’m growing lots of new (to me) tomatoes this year. One of them is Blue Beauty which is, to my mind, both beautiful and blue. The problem is, when is it ripe? And also, most importantly, does it taste good? I will report back.

This Thalictrum aquilegifolium has had to battle to find a space, but it found a way through the melee. It probably needs moving in the autumn, whether or not I remember is another matter.

Hemerocallis ‘Nona’s Garnet’ needs no praise from me, just take a look at it in all its fabulous, elegant beauty and gasp in delight.

That is your lot, happy summer solstice to you all. Nearly Christmas.

To Mary

Words are rubbish. They fail me continually.

When heartbreak happens to people I care for, words refuse to help. I want to soothe, to reassure, to find a way forward, all to no avail. This is pure arrogance. But still, words are all I have. That and flowers.

Without doubt, my dear Mary, you have other things to focus on at the moment. However, a compulsion forces me to attempt a clumsy embrace.

You should know, and I am remiss not to have said before, that you and your fabulous husband, Ant, left a lasting impression on my young self. You took me to your hearts and treated me with respect, kindness and with love. I will always be thankful.

This is faint comfort for your loss, Mary. You must continue without him in body, and that will be hard, but I know that you will be together in spirit, always.

with love.

Six on Saturday – Blurry

It is all getting a little blurry now. Blurry in a cartoon passage of time way. The rain has caused good and bad to spurt, the wind (combined with above rain) has assaulted the delicate ones and the sun has calmed the gardener’s brow. At the moment we are mid storm systems, an hour or two of respite. Polite, British storms, but still wet and miserable. I may hunker down a little in the greenhouse later, have a classic potter, but once the rattling gets too much I will retreat to the sofa. Check out Jim at Garden Ruminations to see what the rest of the SoSer are up to. Shall we proceed with the pretty ones?

I was under the impression that this Malva trimestris ‘Ruby Regis’ was an annual. Seems it is either not MTRR or it is defiant.

Rosa ‘Absolutely Fabulous’ is indeed. I may have said that before. It is very hard not to.

Lilium ‘Claude Shride’ has been decimated by the evil red beetles. I’ve been flicking the bird poo larvae into the pond. I don’t blame the blue tits for not wanting to snack on that particular beastling.

Moraea huttonii has been flowering for a couple of weeks now. It is such an easy, beautiful and elegant plant, I’m surprised it is not more widely grown in the UK. I would like others, but I think they might be more tricky.

The Diascia personata is snuggling up with the dark leaved dahlia. Both have come back determined this year. I am keeping my eye on you!

The trusty Eccremocarpus scaber returns once more, again staying semi-evergreen over the winter months. It really is a super trouper. Sorry for the ear worm.

There we have it, another week done, another month reached. See you next time.

Six on Saturday – Back

I’m sure Peggy would write a note for me if needed, but I am equally confident you will believe that I missed last week’s SoS because my back was being a diva. It had started to grumble the previous weekend, possibly due to pent up fencer rage. Things did not improve even though I imposed a strict regime of totally ignoring the problem, downing analgesics, growling and wallowing in denial. Odd. Perversely, sitting at my computer was the most painful exercise, bending to take photos equally so. Which is why there was no SoS action. This week I have pushed on through, using the same holistic healing methods, during one of the soggiest, windiest most miserable weeks for months. I’m feeling much better now, my system obviously works. Please feel free to duplicate my modus operandi, copyright pending. I can especially recommend the grumpy bit. Enough of my troubles, pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations to show you the Six on Saturday way. Shall we get on?

First we have Digitalis lutea, the straw foxglove, which is just coming into flower. Understated, delicate, slightly out of focus; remind you of anyone?

It’s rhodohypoxis time, always a joy. A little/lot of rain has really helped these come into their own.

The B side of Elvis Costello’s better known hit is, It’s Been a Good Year for the Peonies. Shirley Temple would definitely agree.

The impatiens are on the march, this Impatiens stenantha has formed a sturdy group. It is always the first of the gang to flower, doesn’t seed itself everywhere and even after a drought sulk, pops back up to shine again.

Rosa ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ is having her moment. This bloom is squooshed between bud and bud.

Lastly we have Geranium ‘Splish Splash’. Perhaps a little more splish than splash or is it the other way round?

That is your lot, next time it will be summer!

Six on Saturday – Fence

A problem has been resolved this week, one which was out of our control but was both niggling and invasive. We do not own any of the fences surrounding our garden. Horrah! you might think, no maintenance costs or stormy weather worries. A fair point. Let us consider another scenario. What if a fence, shall we say, is shedding planks into your garden behind a border that is called, off the top of my head, The Bed of Anarchy, and ominously teetering towards a much loved greenhouse. And suppose two years pass of lies and false promises. Thursday they fixed it. They stood on my cannas. It is worth the loss. I am jubilant and can now plant into the twilight zone. Should we be talking about Six on Saturday? I think so. Jim will show you the way, take a look, don’t be afraid.

Whoever sowed this foxglove in the front of the shady border (more interesting name pending) I’d like to shake your hand. Or perhaps your wing.

Whoever sowed this geranium in the dark leaved acer pot I’d like to shake their hand. Or perhaps wing.

Whoever ….. only kidding, this is Rosa ‘Grace’, liberated from The Prof a couple of years ago. Full of bud with a few spent flowers, I chose potential over what has been. Perhaps a metaphor, perhaps not.

A fresh new Cercis canadenis ‘Forest Pansy’ leaf. Shiny, shiny, very very shiny, its very shiny.

The only flower spike of Iris sibirica ‘Papillon’. Could try harder. I’m hopeful for next year, which is the gardener’s way.

Roscoea caultelyoides, I know who put it there but I forgot that I had. No wings here. Just a halo. Stop laughing.

Another six, another Saturday, always pleased to be in such good company,

Six on Saturday – Home Again

We are home again after last weekend’s exploits. This week has been busy catching up with work and stuff “that can wait until we get back”. The back boiler was overflowing. Today is ear marked for potting on and general garden pottering and peering. For more tales of horti joys and woes, pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations and take your fill.

Hands up whose got an allium in this week’s SoS! Its not a bad gang to be in.

This little geranium came from Welsh Ann. I wasn’t sure what colour it would be and nor was she. I’m wondering if it is Kashmir White. Whatever its name, I’m very pleased.

Last week I was lamenting the pathetic display of this little generic evergreen azalea, labelled “pink”. It goes to show a few words of encouragement can make all the difference.

I bought this Cestrum x cultum ‘Cretan Pink’ last year from a local nursery. I’m not sure about the colour, a bit insipid. The cat isn’t looking too impressed either.

I had a few of these candelabra primula and one of the two survivors is this deep pink beauty. It, undoubtedly, has a proper name which, undoubtedly, is somewhere out there.

My last offering today is Semiaquilegia adoxoides semi-double pink, well that was what was on the seed packet. Do I care it has gone a little off piste? Not at all.

All done, another six, another Saturday. Next SoS I’ve pencilled in the subject of “constant watering”. Have a great week.