Wonder Days

Lurking within these time-skewed days of isolation there have been moments of wonder.  The nature of these nuggets is varied, differing from household to household, human bean to human bean.  It might have been proudly presenting your first ever sourdough loaf straight from the oven to rapturous applause of one.  Perhaps it was completing the 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle called Shades of Black, which had been sending you boss-eyed for the last 3 weeks.  Or maybe it was getting into the lotus position without putting a hip out.  Mine, and I can only speak for myself, it is a little muckier.  And no, we haven’t suddenly become X-rated.

There is little more distressing, for a gardener and plant obsessive, than being separated from our drug of choice.  Therefore, the arrival of a box containing some prize specimens was an event to be celebrated.  This particular box came from the wonderful Bluebell Cottage Nursery in Cheshire, which is run by Sue Beesley, former winner of BBC Gardener of the Year.  It was beautifully packaged and, snug and safe beneath the protective paper spaghetti, were my brand new morsels of delight.  These treats included plants that had been on The Lust List, including Campanula ‘Loddon Anna’; ones new to myself, such as Pulsatilla vulgaris ‘Papageno’; and some old friends like Geranium ‘Ann Folkard’.  A few I will keep for myself, others I will pass onto clients.  If they can get me to let go of the pot, that is, I can have a very firm grasp when I want to.   I smiled from the second the box arrived at the front door, through the leisurely reveal (I always forget what I have ordered so the surprise adds to the thrill), to the savouring of each label, to the sitting back and considering my choices.  It made me very happy, very happy.  I am sure I heard a tut, a mutter, or even a sigh or two, coming from somewhere in the house.

It is always good to support independents, especially in these difficult times, and I am pleased to report that many nurseries are offering a mail order service.  I am further pleased to say that they have been very popular.  For more information check out The Independent Plant Nurseries Guide, although I must warn you, it is very hard to resist temptation on such a scale.  Myself, I am too scared to look.  Although a little peek wouldn’t hurt, surely …..

Six on Saturday – Top Secret Kittens

It was touch and go as to whether I would make this week’s Six on Saturday.  Luckily, I got back in time from my top-secret kitten-rescuing mission to complete my task.  Rest assured that all kittens are safe and well.  I hope you are too.  Any more information needed then pop on over to P’s and you can find up what is going on around the planet.  There may be more kittens and they might even be real.  Shall we proceed ……

First, we have Tulipa ‘Burgundy’ a lily-flowered beauty.  When it first started to bloom, I wasn’t sure about the colour.  It seemed a bit dull and lifeless.  Then it bucked up its ideas and now I love it and its fellows.  This pot is in a more protected position so hopefully will avoid the fate of last week’s purple tulip.

Next, we have an attention seeking Hoya bella.  This wonderfully fragrant exotic was given to me as a cutting by my ex-client, the lovely Lavinia.  It lives in my office, perched high on top of my box files, where I can appreciate the waxy flowers and their accompanying aroma.  Over the last few weeks, I have been mainly working downstairs and as such I may have neglected it somewhat.  In defiance, it threw itself off the top leaving a trail of compost in its wake.  It was nothing to do with the fact that it was bone dry.  Nothing at all.  It is now outside getting rehydrated in the rain.

My Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’ has begun to flower.  It reminds of Mrs Bun.  Just why it reminds me of her is documented in Six on Saturday – After the Rain.  She was forgiven a long time ago, possibly 30 seconds after the rejection.  I miss her muchly.

This is Bellevalia pycnantha, syn. Muscari paradoxum, which is new to me this year.  Not only haven’t I grown it, I hadn’t heard of it before.  But I liked the picture and thought I would give it a go.  Then, as these things often happen, I was reading my friend Chloris’ Six on Saturday and there it was, in all its glory!  As she has a wonderful garden and great taste, I was quite chuffed.  I’m looking forward to seeing how it progresses.

It’s that time of the year again, the time I say “look at the aquilegia and look how they are taking over every corner of the garden”.  Then I say “I will dead head them before they seed themselves and dig most of them up, reserving a select few”.  Then I don’t.  Groundhog year.

Earlier in the week, when myself and OH went out for our daily stroll, I spotted an interesting box outside the house of our neighbour across the road.  Of course we crossed to examine it.  Any little excitement is welcome.  In the box were pots of aeonium and a sign saying “£1 each, all proceeds to the Citizens Advice Bureau”.  On the way home I said to OH “have you got a pound?”, as like all royalty I rarely carry cash.  Here, potted up into one of my old terracottas, is our new aeonium.

Stay safe and well, my friends.  ‘Til next time.

 

 

 

Sticky Tape

Over the past few weeks I have given some remote advice to my esteemed clients.  There have been a few phone calls, a couple of WhatsAps, some dodgy “is this a weed?” pictures and the like.  Today I received the above photo from Nancy Nightingale with the caption “Is this the done thing?”.

Like you I hope, it made me smile, chuckle even.  I replied encouragingly “you never know it might work”, because although unlikely, it just might.  I have used a similar method myself in the past, albeit in slightly different circumstances.  A snapped twig or stem has been bound using electrical tape because, for some bizarre reason that even I don’t understand, that was all I had at hand at the time.  And there were many successes with this method.  After all professionals grafters, propagating roses, fruit trees or perhaps vines, use grafting tape to secure their creations until the scion and roots bind together.  Posh sticky tape.

Then I messaged “but you could just chop the leaf off, it will grow another one.”  Possibly the best option.  Ten out of ten for ingenuity though.

The Mighty Fallen

When I ventured out into the chilly morning air, to put yet another Dom Pérignon bottle in the recycling bin, I was met with a sorry sight.  Lain dead centre of the path, pathetic and crestfallen, was the mighty purple tulip featured in this week’s Six on Saturday.  It had been unceremoniously ripped from its base by the brisk easterly wind and dumped without grace upon the ground.  Without hesitation, I swept it up and popped it into a vase along with some daffs.  I’m sure they won’t mind sharing.

Six on Saturday – Not Going Out

We made it to another Six on Saturday, hurrah!   If you are curious, pop on over to The Prop’s and find out what the rest of the gang are up to.  For some it will be spring, for some it will be autumn, but we are all united by one thing.   Things have slowed down, there is no need to rush as tomorrow will be soon enough, there is time to consider and immerse ourselves in the moment.  I find that very comforting in these strange times.  Let us meander to over to my chosen ones.

Firstly, we have a sublime double purple tulip.  I’ve looked for the label, but nothing.  I’ve looked for the packaging, but nothing.  Someone needs a firm talking to.  It is not the first time this has happened.  The worse thing is that it is a dreadful example to my esteemed clients, whom I mercilessly nag about keeping everything labelled.  It is a bit like telling everyone to stay home and then travelling to your holiday home 150 miles away.

Next we have the knicker elastic radishes, looking rather dandy.  I have been watering and cooing words of encouragement.  Their neighbours in the pot, some spring onions, have also begun to emerge.  Always a miracle.

Onto the red Woolies acer looking resplendent against the white-washed wall.  I think I might have used a similar photograph before, but I reckoned that nobody would remember or if they did, they wouldn’t care.

Now we have a jolly osteospermum.  The foliage is quite frankly rather ropey, as would befit any decent osteo at this time of year.  The flower is wonderful.  My head says “trim it back”, my heart says “not on your Nellie”.  Another battle to be waged.

Then one of my favourites in the garden, Anemone nemorosa ‘Robinsoniana’.  Every year I chop back the fuchsia in the front garden to allow this ethereal beauty to shine.  By the time the fuchsia has grown back, her moment in the spotlight is over and she is happy to play second fiddle.

Lastly the bronze fennel, Foeniculum vulgare ‘Purpureum’, that I dug up and disposed of a couple of years ago.  I may have left an iddy biddy bit behind.  Talking of behind.  Fat Ol’s sister Daisy thought my photo would be greatly enhanced by the addition of a sunbathing pussycat.  I agree.

That’s yer lot for another week, my friends.  Stay safe and well and home!

GMBG – April – Peggy matched with Julian of Norwich by Janina Ramirez

For this April’s GMBG I have not adhered to my usual draconian rules.  This month I haven’t gifted the book in question to anyone, but I did lend them my copy a few months ago.  I think that considering a) we live in exceptional times and b) it’s my party and I will cry if I want to, this slight deviation from the straight and narrow is acceptable.  And the pairing seemed appropriate.  Any letters of complaint can be sent to my agent.

First the benefactor.  The person in question is my mum, Peggy.  As long as I can remember she has been an avid reader.  Many years ago, when she was temporarily bedridden after a back operation, my Dad would choose her library books for her.  One day I accompanied him on his mission.  As he chatted to the librarian I began to study the available books, pulling them out and carefully considering them, reading inside the dust cover, weighing up if they would be appropriate.  Joining me in my quest my dad enquired “What are you up to?”, “Finding some books for mum, of course”, “You don’t do it like that, watch me!” and he proceeded to randomly pull six books off the shelves, returning to the librarian for stamping and more chat.  “Oh”.  She never complained about his selection, although I have always wondered if it was a case of “beggars can’t be choosers”.  At the moment she is self-isolating, alone but chipper as always.

I don’t remember learning to read and recently I asked Peggy if she had taught me.  She seemed unsure.  “Well I would read to you and then afterwards you would read the same book to your little brother.  I was never sure if you were making it up or you had memorised the words”.  Whichever, I could read by the time I started school, at barely 4 years old, and haven’t let up since.

Now for the book, Julian of Norwich, A Very Brief History by Janina Ramirez.  I was first tempted by this book because of the author, not the subject.  Dr Ramirez is a cultural historian, with a PhD in the art, literature and culture of Anglo Saxon England.  She a brilliant presenter of programmes on both art and history.  But she is not the stereotypical academic, more gothademic, with her long black hair, wearing stacked platform biker boots and heavy black eyeliner.  She is ace.

This book is about the 14th century anchorite* Julian of Norwich.   In 1390, she was bricked up in a cell in Norwich Cathedral until her death in 1413.   Yes, “she”.   Julian was a she, probably a noble woman, although it is far from certain exactly who.  It was here that she wrote her book Revelations of Divine Love.   Janina’s book is intriguing, discussing who Julian might have been, why someone would want to cut themselves off from society in such a way and what was occurring whilst she was interred.  It also explains how her book differed from previous religious writings.  Julian’s emphasis was on love and hope as opposed to guilt or punishment.  Love and hope, much better options.

As Julian wrote, over 600 years ago:

All shall be well, all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

*An anchorite is a religious recluse.

Six on Saturday – Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?  No, I’m afraid we’re not.  Hunker down chaps, we’ll get there in the end.  No problem, all this self-isolating gives us plenty of time for Six on Saturdaying.  Except I couldn’t fit it in yesterday.  So here I am, the crack of dawn, trying to get it sorted.  I seem to be in a bit of lull gardenwise at the moment.  The tulips are just hanging there, reluctant to colour, the herbaceous stuff is beginning to show a leg but nothing too dramatic.  Maybe I’m not looking hard enough.  I remember last year thinking I should do something about filling this gap.  Next year I will definitely do something about filling this gap.  However I managed to rustle together a meagre six and if you wish to see what the rest of the gang are up to pop on over to the great Marvello Propello‘s blog.  Let us get on, soon OH will be serving me my lightly boiled egg with marmite soldiers.

First of all we have a self-seeded primula, crammed into a gap in a low drystone wall.  It has obviously had an interesting life; scarred, battered and bruised from run-ins with mollusc and cold winds.  However, in the spring sunshine it looks most fetching.  Perfect is so last year.

Next we have Lilium ‘Forever Linda’ which had been tucked around the corner in the “resting” area for out of work plants.  It took me by surprise as to how close to flowering it is.  It is ear-marked to be planted out in the garden today.  Whether that talk will become the walk is debateable.

I love dandelions.  They are great for pollinators and telling the time.  The other day I saw a lady acting rather suspiciously on a patch of rough ground not far from our house.  As I passed by, she gave me a wry smile and I realised she was picking dandelion leaves, perhaps for her guinea pig or rabbit, or perhaps for a salad for herself.  Dandelions are great.  They may or may not make you wee the bed, clinical trials underway.

For the past two weeks “COME ON PEGGY!” has been periodically shouted at a nondescript pot of compost residing in my dining room.  I potted up all my dahlias a couple of weeks ago and they are now sitting in the pathetic plastic greenhouse, hopefully thinking about some action.  This one had special treatment, bought into the warm of the house.  It is the dahlia I named after my mum.  The full story is here: It is All in the Name.  Eventually, as you can see, she listened to my pleadings.  That’s a first. (not really)

A couple of years ago I sowed some Lathyrus aurea and some Laythrus vernus.  Then all the labels fell off/broke in half/rubbed off/didn’t exist in the first place.  Since then I have been waiting for one to flower so I know which is which.  And here it is.  The first flower of Laythrus vernus.  And very lovely it is too!

Lastly, we have the magnificent barnets of Muscari ‘Mount Hood’, although a few seem to have lost their wigs.  This year I have become a grape hyacinth fan, I will definitely be trying more varieties in the future.  More plants, that is what we need!

Take care and be safe my friends, ’til next time.

Further Apart but Closer Still

Contrary to popular advice, I like to talk to strangers. I may have mentioned this before, along with the fact that I cannot be blamed for this affliction. It is my Mum’s fault, I have no choice in the matter. Nature or nurture? Whichever it might be, I am a lost cause.

This morning, early enough to encounter dog walkers and joggers, I wandered into town to pick up a prescription. I danced the Two Meter Fandango with everyone I met, crossing the road or moving into space, ensuring Social Distancing protocol was observed. Each time we exchanged a smile, a thank you, a good morning.

A shaven-haired chunk of a man approached with his similarly imposing doberman. I had passed this duo many times before, a nod the most intimate we had ever been. Today, as he moved into the road to let me pass, he said “I feel bad doing this” and we stood appropriately far apart and chatted for a few minutes. A charming, personable fellow.

Over the past couple of weeks I have been in contact with friends and family, and even the odd stranger, more often than ever before. Checking up, checking in. Although, in physical terms, we feel so very far apart, perhaps more importantly we have become much closer emotionally. The silver lining.

Up, Up and Away

This made me very happy.  My first seeds of the season, Cosmos ‘Purity’, have germinated, the sight of which bought me great joy.  On reflection, it was a slightly disturbing amount of pleasure.  I may have double fist pumped.  They look like groovers at a seedling disco, throwing some fine moves, so happy to be growing.

After a few stern words, or perhaps inspired/shamed by the cosmos, the cucumbers and courgettes are also making rumblings.  About time too.  Slackers will not be tolerated!

Stitchwort

Our designated daily exercise took us up the moorland hill that looms malignly in view of our house.  In truth we skirted rather than climbed.  It was quiet, except for the exuberant birdlife, and the fresh air was soothing and much appreciated.  The wildflowers are being to shine, it is their time.  The celandine, the violets, the thorn, all beautiful.  They will be there whether or not we are there to appreciate them.  I rather like that thought.  It is all going on even if we aren’t at the party.  Fair play, I say.  Get on with it, do your thing.

Stitchwort is one of my favourite spring flowers.  I love its name and its simplicity.  Although I cared to see it, it didn’t give a fig whether I was there or not.  That is how it should be.