Attention

“Quick, quick, come and see this!” Lady Mantle called out frantically.

His Lordship and myself dropped our croquet mallets and ran at full pelt towards her plaintive calls.

“Is it a newt?”  I asked

“No”

“A toad?”

“No”

What other exotic creature could be lurking in the flower bed?  A boomslang, an axolotl, a New Zealand flatworm?

Panting after our exertion, having run a full 10m without a pit stop, we demanded:

“What have you found that is so exciting we had to drop everything and rush to your side?”

“A really big worm”

Lord Mantle looked at me.  I looked at him.  We sighed in unison and walked away muttering “a worm” and “not even a very big one”.

As we retreated we could hear Her Ladyship exclaiming:

“Look! It’s as big as a snake, enormous, come back!”

Attention seeking again.  When will we learn?

There is no photo of the “enormous” worm.  I hope you aren’t disappointed.  Instead you have a picture of a canna seedpod, just ready to drop its contents to the ground.

 

Six on Saturday – November Cheer

I am determined to remain upbeat for this week’s Six on Saturday.   Apparently, according to a memo I received this week from our mentor The Prop, it is important that we keep our happy faces on, given all that is going on at the moment.  And, as we all know, what The Prop wants, The Prop gets.  This morning’s result didn’t help.  Then I heard the story of the South African captain, Siya Kolisi, and my disappointment turned to love and respect.  There is always something there, something to turn things round.  We just have to look a little closer.

Shall we kick off with the psychedelic partnership of Begonia ‘Glowing Embers’ and Fuchsia hatschbachii.  Both were distinctly underwhelming earlier in the season.  The same can not be said for them now.  Planted in a collapsing half barrel in the frozen north, they get absolutely no direct sun now.  Do they care?  Not likely!

Next we have Jacaranda mimosifolia grown from Mallorcan seed.  It has had a good summer outside, growing well all things considered.  Last week I moved it to the waiting room, just outside the back door.  Soon it will be moved inside for a winter sojourn away from the elements, attempting to inflict a little class on the spider plants.

Onto nasturtium and friend.  I have reached the time of the year when I say “oh, bless its little cotton socks” rather than reaching for a brick.  This of course is very short sighted of me, they will return in droves to haunt me, punishing my soft heartedness.  You may have noticed by the attractive drops on the leaf that it is raining still.  On a day off I really don’t care.

Now an unknown penstemon, a cutting from a former client’s garden.  It has flowered all summer and is showing no sign of retiring from active duty.

The Lavandula pinnata has thrived this summer.  I really should have taken some cuttings but I didn’t so there is no point worrying now.  It is in a sunny, well drained spot, so the odds are stacked in its favour.  I may have just jinxed myself.

Finally, the exotic glamour of Impatiens flanaganae.  After a dramatic pause it has come into flower just in time to make number six.  Definitely worth the wait.

Not sure that was particularly cheery, but one does what one can, until the next time ….

 

 

Good Vibrations

Yesterday I struggled with the weather, it was cold and windy and dark.  I didn’t want to play autumn’s game.  I wanted to hibernate.  Snuggle up until spring studying picture books full of adorable photos of puppies and kittens.

Today was similar, weather wise, but somehow different.  Fully base layered up (not sure where I will go from here) I shrugged off the drizzle and miserable.  Greeted by a jump jet spaniel ensured that my day started with a wide grin and a happy heart.  The company of the fabulous Mrs Bun meant that there was no turning back, my dreary mood could not persist.

Mr Bun undertook The Job of the Century and returned battle scarred and triumphant.  I was suitably impressed.  Mrs Bun laughed at his wounds.  You will be pleased to hear she has retired from the nursing profession.

This wonderful little rose did its bit too in the good vibration department.

Dippy

I’ve been a bit dippy lately. Dippier than normal.

Last Saturday I mislaid my house keys. I had been embarrassingly (to OH anyway) counting out a tonne of small change in a local cafe and forgot put them back in my purse. Luckily we were reunited without too much stress.

In the week I forgot my steel toe caps and had to struggle through the day wearing inadequate holey pumps. This was not quite as traumatic as wearing my slippers to school, but almost.
Today I forgot my bag. I noticed that the passenger seat was spookily empty approximately 5 minutes before reaching Lord and Lady Mantle’s estate. This oversight meant I had no money, no phone, no diary, no packets of seed, no multi-tool, no teabags, no stationary kit, no paper bags, no spare pair of socks, no camera, no coffee granules, no mini first aid kit, no anti-histamines, no emergency humbugs, no manky tissues, no ear phones which would have been useless without the phone anyway, no penknife, no notebook, no pen, no other pen, no pencil. Most importantly, with the prospect of imminent disaster, I had no glasses. Luckily Lady Mantle and myself wear the same size so she leant me her diamond encrusted spare pair.

I must concentrate harder.

Six on Saturday – Forlorn

Well Mr Prop you’ve really done it this time.  It has been my first day off for a while.  We have been away, dodging showers in Cornwall, and before that we had visitors to entertain, with more due next weekend.  How have I spent this glorious nugget of a free day?  Enjoying an aromatherapy massage, or perhaps brunching on avocado smashed onto spelt toast whilst perusing the weekend papers?  No, I have been wandering around my gardening in the pouring rain and howling gale trying to take photos for my Six on Saturday.  I am seriously annoyed.  And wet.  I will never forgive you.

I’m over it now.  All in the past.  I still admire you from afar.  Shall we get on?

First is a view out onto the courtyard from the relative dry and warm of my home.  I was contemplating.  I was revving myself up to venture forth.  No doubt I sighed a little.  You can see the green watering can that is too heavy for me to lug up the steps when it is full.  An anemic tomato plant, a stoically unflowering nerine and a few equally unfloriferous dahlias huddle on the step.  My pathetic greenhouse is flapping about like a demented seagull.   The ‘mind your own business’ is doing its utmost to treacherously smother the brick steps up to the main garden.  All is sog and forlorn.

I will try and cheer up as we proceed, but I can’t promise anything.  It might be a good idea to brace yourself for all eventualities.

Next is Solonum atropurpureum which is one of this year’s tranche of seed grown plants.  The decision to attempt to propagate this monster must have been made during a “what on earth was I thinking of” moment.  Alternative names are purple devil and malevolence so it is indeed surprising that I thought it would be a cuddly addition to the throng.  It is spiky and ugly and it is doing exceedingly well.

Now we have a bedraggled Dahlia australis and resident nibbler.  This plant was also grown from seed and turned out not to be the true species, a random bee must have snuck in with outsider pollen to the parent plant.  Still it is both pretty and reliable, two fine traits.  My dahlias have been dreadful this year, partly due to weather conditions and partly due to neglect.  Possibly in a ratio of 1:99.

Onto a depressed Rosa ‘Symphony in Blue’.  The first flush earlier in the summer was glorious.  Seems a little sad to see this battered shadow of its former self.   Time for it to have a sleep now and rest up until next year.

I have a confession, I have not one but two tibouchinas.  I say this tentatively as I’m a little worried that the Redistribution of the Tibouchina Party will come and liberate one of them.  But I need both, really, I do.  This is Tibouchina ‘Groovy Baby’, a diddy little shrub, but with flowers as large as its full-sized friend.  I would like a dress in this colour if anyone is feeling creative.

Lastly the delightful, Fuchsia ‘Bornemann’s Beste’.  This determined soul has thrived in the Bed of Anarchy, elbowing its way through the expanse of agapanthus and over exuberant salvias.  Sturdy and full of flower, it is a winner.

All done, until the next time, over and out.