Six on Saturday – Still Standing

It has been a wild week, just weatherwise you understand. All is calm, all is bright apart from that. Accordingly to those who study such things, we have had double the precipitation for the month already. Our water capture is overflowing and memories of drought long past. If we weren’t having warnings about rain and flooding it was wind alerts. Gales and torrential storms, wonderful. Understandably the garden is a little confused. The crispy are now softening, the stunted are putting on tardy growth spurts. There have been casualties, there have been survivors, all will be left now to do their best. No propping, little tending, it is too late in the day. Perhaps I am being lazy or defeatist or maybe realistic. If you would like weather reports from around the world and perhaps the odd mention of a plant or two, pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations. Shall we get on?

Pelargonium ‘Crocodile’ is new to me this year. I was imagining a little more of a scaley threatening vibe, but in reality some of the leaves are quite benign. The very pretty cerise flowers are not scary at all.

Plectranthus argentatus has enjoyed whatever has been thrown at it this year. I’ve grown this tender perennial ostensibly as a foliage plant, but in full flower, as it is at the moment, it is a joy indeed.

Leonotis leonurus, underwhelming, could try harder.

Kniphofia ‘Alcazar’, after just a couple of years, had become a monster. I called in the heavy mob (OH) who dug it up and divided it into four less monstrous pieces. I think it may have forgiven the harsh treatment.

This hedychium, which I think is H. aurantiacum, has failed to flower since its move to South Wales. It has grown exponentially, sturdy stems, but no blooms. It is a late flowerer so I haven’t given up hope just yet, but there are no hints that it is even thinking about it. Too dry, too shady, too fertile, who knows?

The Bed of Anarchy looks like a hippopotamus has wandered by and taken a nap. This Salvia uliginosa has bent down to greet the rubeckia, a happy meeting.

All done, Six on Saturday as required. A little tougher this week. It can only get worse.

Six on Saturday – The Odd Plant Out

I thought this Six on Saturday we could have a little game of Spot the Odd Plant Out. I do love a puzzle. It is a tricky one, but do your best, you will not be judged on your observation skills. I might snigger behind my hand, but it will be with love and respect. I’m sure it will be a doddle for our leader, Jim at Garden Ruminations. If you would like to know more about this wholesome and nourishing meme, pop over and all will be revealed. Enough of an introduction, let us get to the nitty gritty.

The canna are reaching for the stars (apologies for ear worm) and flowering beautifully. I’m not sure what they are, perhaps seed from Tony, perhaps from Steve Morgan. Last year I gave my brother some mirabilis seed, a few months passed and he sent me a questioning photograph. After the “trip over the step resulting in a mix up of all the seed I was carrying” incident, it seems I wasn’t quite as good at seed ID as I thought I was. I don’t think he is worried, just a little surprised. His canna is also flowering well.

Tithonia rotundifolia has struggled this year, or rather the gardener has struggled to germinate and bring them on. This is the sole plant, which has taken rather a battering in the recent weather. I will collect seed and attempt to do a better job next year, both with keeping them in hand and tending to them.

Peeping through the foliage, towards the rear of the plant, I see that the Colquhounia coccinea is flowering. Most modestly.

Digitalis isabelliana ‘Bella’ hasn’t baulked under the drought strain. It is a favourite; the form, the colour, even the name. Which possibly has just doomed it to an untimely death. I have the power. Beware.

This special hedychium, Tara Seedling, has done particularly well this year, spreading and flowering better than ever, despite being surrounded by some proper mean spirited bullies in the Bed of Anarchy.

Worth waiting for, nothing quite like it, is Tibouchina urvilleana, always hanging on a thread of suspense. Apparently, it has been renamed Pleroma urvilleanum, which sounds more like a skin condition than a fabulous, tender but more than worth it, wonder.

Did you spot the odd one out? I have every faith you have. It may not be the same as everyone else, I am depending on that. There is always the obvious and the fanciful. Neither are wrong.

Six on Saturday – Little and Large

Another week, another weather related drama. Plants in the garden are beginning to droop a little, a couple are definitely on the frazzled side. I put this down to the dense planting, which means any meagre rain or mizzle that has fallen in the last week or two has been unable to reach soil level. This blanket vegetation has conserved moisture for a long time, now the cracks are beginning to show, quite literally in our clay soil. If you wish to find out more about Six on Saturday, and possibly join in, check out the man who has his finger on the pulse Jim at Garden Ruminations. Off we go.

The bronze fennel was humming today. All good. The bronze fennel is growing in the same pot as the peach tree. Not so good. I am kidding myself that it is protecting the fruit, two of which are still hanging on. I am promising myself that this intrusion will be sorted very soon.

A self-seeded cosmos is showing how it’s done. No gardener intervention. Except for me saying “watch out for the cosmos at the edge of the border” to the lawn man, AKA OH.

This is Dahlia coccinea var. palmeri and I grew it from seed. Anyone who know dahlias knows this feat doesn’t deserve a round of applause.

Gertie is having another go. Fair play.

A couple of years ago I visiting West Penwith and we walked The Prom from Penzance to Newlyn. In one of the tiny courtyard gardens was the most incredible purple dahlia. I’m not sure what it’s name was, but this, the first flower of my plant, has salved the itch that I have had ever since. Dahlia ‘Thomas Edison, I salute you.

Ludmilla’s Pink Heart and Austin’s Red Pear. There is room for everyone here.

All done, see you next time.

Six on Saturday – Monster

Come August I have recovered from my “it’s nearly Christmas and we are all doomed” angst and into my “let us live in the moment, time is but an illusion” phase. The garden is pretty much looking after itself, just some dead heading and propping and thinking. I have begun collecting seed and planning for the future, making unlikely promises to myself. It is all part of the circle. I never quite believe them. For more about Six on Saturday visit our mentor Jim at Garden Ruminations. It is worth a look, I’ll be popping over myself very shortly. Let’s get this show on the road!

I have been struggling to get a worthy photo of Impatiens arguta ‘Alba’ and this is the best of a bad lot. This year it has seeded itself far and wide, but it is easily pulled up and so far has not proved to be too much of a nuisance.

One of my favourite salvias is S. involucrata ‘Hadspen’. Tall, cerise pink and furry, what more could you want?!

Our little potted apple tree has done quite well this year, in spite of next door’s fencer snapping a branch or two. I am sure I made a note of the variety, quite where I put that note is another matter indeed.

Never, ever plant Bidens ‘Hannay’s Lemon Drop’ in your garden. It is a thug. It is thuggish to thugs. Do not be swayed by its elegant beauty. It will take over your world with a trillion intertwined roots that weave relentlessly through the border. There is no mercy. A job for the autumn is to try and get rid of this monster. Pretty though.

Dahlia ‘Verone’s Obsidian’ is one of the few named dahlias that I have in the garden. It has the distinctive Honka shape and is most likely parent to some of the others. I am very fond of it.

A photo bombing Verbena bonariensis amongst a sea of Rudbeckia fulgida. Another rampant yellow daisy. I’m going to be busy.

Another six, another week. Next time I will be a whole year older.

Six on Saturday – No Complaints

It has been a very pleasant week. I was back at work after a enforced sabbatical due to car troubles. A tooth was filled without the need for anesthetic or tears. I’ve caught up with all the present generations of my family. Tomatoes are ripening. The weather has been benign and the mood high. No complaints at all. In fact I’m going to attempt a whole Six on Saturday without a gripe. If you wish to meet more of the gang and our mentor, pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations and all will be revealed. I think we had better get on with the task at hand.

This Geranium pratense ‘Plenum Album’ has been flowering for a few weeks now. I don’t remember it being in bloom for quite so long in the past. It is the brightest white with a suggestion of pink around the central boss. Nothing to moan about here.

The label in this sweet pepper says Golden Cal Wonder. Someone sack the labeller. Or perhaps give her the benefit of the doubt and blame the adorable piskies who often play such pranks. On examining the other pepper labels I think this must be Kapla. There are only two so no intensive detective work was necessary. Disaster averted, contentment reinstated.

I bought this fabulous Plectrantus argentatus last year and over wintered it in the greenhouse. This year I have taken several cuttings and planted the mother plant in the garden, where it is thriving. It appears that it is now called Coleus argentatus. God bless the botanists. This non-moaning might be more tricky than I imagined.

Salvia patens is the pure blue of heaven itself, which in this case has been enhanced by the romantic lens I used to take the photo. If you believe that, you’ll believe anything.

In your face tigridia. Brash, gaudy, unsophisticated, screeching “look at me!” from the border. Fabulous.

Finally, we have another in my series of bee bum photos. This little chap is enjoying all this glorious purple gladdie has to offer. It makes my heart sing.

All done, not a complaint to be found. I’m exhausted.

Six on Saturday – Tomatogeddon

The rain that we so desired arrived with unseasonably windy weather, which had categorically not been invited to the party. Whilst most of the garden suffered no ill effect, including sunflowers and dahlias which are wedged so tightly into place they can barely move, the outdoor tomatoes came crashing to the ground like a delicious row of dominos. I dashed out into the tempest, did my best to rearrange and balance, placing bricks on top of each individual pot to weigh them down. Five minutes later they were flat on their faces again. Pulling the blinds across, I decided that the best course of action was to ignore their histrionics and leave them be. Here they stayed until the next day when they were righted and examined. Amazingly, there appeared to be no damage; all fruit firmly in place, all stems intact, Tomatogeddon had been averted. Thrilling stuff, don’t you agree, no doubt soon to be picked up by an indie film producer and made into a cult classic. If you want even more excitement, pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations and find out what the rest of the Six on Saturday gang are up to. Which reminds me, shall we proceed?

This hydrangea is a cutting from a much loved specimen in our ex-front garden in Ilfracombe. It has done very well in our new garden, in spite of being quite different conditions. Just goes to show.

Dahlia merckii has begun flowering in the shady border. I wasn’t sure how it would get on with lack of sun, but it seems to be coping relatively well. A little tardy both starting into growth and subsequently blooming, which is hardly surprising. Definitely worth the wait.

I saw the parents of this Eucomis bicolor recently in Welsh John’s garden. They are significantly larger than this fledgling, hopefully, the shape of things to come. Shamefully, I noticed the withered leucanthemum after I had taken the photograph. It has now been dead headed and cuddled.

The self-seeded Cuphea lanceolata have returned, which is fortuitous. I must apologise to those I promised seed to last year. Unfortunately, whilst carrying several precariously balanced seed containers into the house to finish their drying, I tripped and dropped the lot. Clumsy, moi? The more obvious I managed to rescue, the rest went up the hoover.

The first cosmos flower has arrived. Nothing to do with me.

One of the fallen was ‘Orange Banana’ which although unmistakably “orange” is far from banana like. Earlier in the week one fruit was a better name-match, slim and gently curved. I ate it. Sorry about that, it was delicious.

There we have it, another Six complete. Upwards and onwards.

Grumpy Cat is Dead, Long Live Grumpy Cat

Grumpy cat has been informing me when the eggs/lasagna/chiffon sponges are ready for many years. I am very fond of him. I have an affinity with those of the grumpy persuasion. Lately, I have come to doubt GC’s accuracy but have been too polite to point it out, for fear of offence. After all, what is a couple of minutes between friends. He had a work related incident several months ago and possibly was feeling the effects. When I came to use him the other day he refused to work at all. Nothing, no ticking, no movement, just that stare, the one that wheedles into your bones and refuses to be shaken. “Grumpy cat is broken” I told OH. “Ah” said OH. “Ah?” I questioned. “Didn’t I tell you?” asked OH. “Tell me what?” beginning to wonder what horrors were about to be disclosed. “I dropped him” says OH, swiftly followed by “I’ll get you another one”. Wise man.

Some internet trawling, a few days wait and GC Jnr arrived Chez Nous. Perhaps a little lighter in colour, maybe a little wider in girth and definitely much cleaner, but the same indomitable expression. All is forgiven.

Do not fear, GC Senior will be retired to the home for broken but sentimentally significant artifacts. For a while anyway. Until I get one of those heads on.

Six on Saturday – Toastie

The weatherman on our local TV channel, a dapper chap called Derek, described yesterday as “toastie”. I liked that. There is something comforting there, something reassuring and innocuous. Toastie can never be daunting or oppressive. The fact that it also suggests delicious warm and melting sandwiches exacerbated this impression. Perhaps Derek was guilty of understatement, but his words placated me for just a moment.

For various reasons it has been a bizarre week, some of which I blame on a full moon and the possibility that I have inadvertently been mean to an evil fairy. However, the bad must go with the good. It is the nature of things.

If you wish to visit more Six on Saturday-ers, which after all is why we are all here, then pop over to Jim at Garden Ruminations and you will be rewarded. Shall we proceed?

First we have a wonderful lacecap hydrangea, a cutting from a shrub in Peggy’s garden. It lives in a very large pot in the shady front of the house and is going from strength to strength. The elephant in the room is that it is a elephant in a pot and surely can’t be happy for much longer constrained, however large the container.

This potentilla may have a ID label but I haven’t bothered to footle about to find it. Squeezed on all sides, it has struggled through to produce this beautiful bloom. Hopefully there will be more, now it has found the light.

Peach. I know. Proud. The fall will follow shortly.

This little white agapanthus does a splendid job to lift the colour-full border. I am a great fan of using white to rest the eye, in fact I might I have said it here before. Repetition is a speciality.

Now we have Rudbeckia ‘Irish Eyes’, which is a seedling I failed to plant out last year and languished in a pot over winter. Now, safe in the bosom of the border, it is eventually coming into its own.

Dahlia ‘Bishop of York’ was given to me by Welsh John, twice. The first tuber rotted in the greenhouse over winter, a supposed safe space. This second one was left in the ground, well mulched, and has come back happy as a bishop could be, or perhaps even happier.

All done, another six. Stay cool, those who need too. Stay warm, to the rest.

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.