Six on Saturday – Platinum

This might take some time.  I’m writing this week’s Six on Saturday on my Mum’s gas powered laptop.  It has languished forgotten in the cupboard since 1836 when she upgraded to a solar paneled tablet.  Once we had located the cranking handle (filed under archaic miscellany) and turned it over a few times it started up surprisingly easily.  And it is working very well.  As long as you are of the opinion that speed is an over-rated phenomenum.  The point, that I will hopefully reach before you all nod off,  is that I think this devotion to duty deserves a gold star on Mister Prop’s progress chart.  The reason being as follows:  a) location, b) content c) inclination.  At the moment I am in a different country to the one that my garden is located.  I have once again left OH home alone to the horror that ensues when I leave, that is peace and quiet and no backchat.  b)  Necessity has led me to utilize Clause 567, Subsection 34a in the Six on Saturday Constitution.  All the following plants were in my garden at some point but are are now in Max’s.  All were grown from seed.  c)  Driving on the M4 westward on a Friday afternoon to spend the weekend doing Peggy’s garden has left me a gibbering wreck.   However I have summoned all my inner strength and, aided by some thinly veiled threats by my mother, I have managed to complete my task.  On reflection this might warrant the platinum award.  What do you think?  After all that gibbering I best be brief.

First we have Lobelia bridgesii and heavily laden friend.  Gorgeous and gorgeous.

Now onto Campanula persicifolia, the peach leaved bellflower.  A great, and I mean that most sincerely folks, self-seeder.  I have an inkling that at least one of his siblings will be white.

Next Cephalaria gigantea,  the giant scabious,  this is a couple of years old now but still not up to its full fighting height.  It has made a rather serendipitous stand with some linaria interlopers.

It is no secret that I am an avid salvia fan and this one is no exception.  Salvia forsskaolii, indigo woodland sage, is a boisterous beauty.

There are two of my Iochroma australe seedlings in Max’s garden and they have both flowered for the first time this year.  As luck would have it, one is white with a hint of pink, and one is dusky blue.  The blue has my vote, but they are both lovely.

When we were kids we jokingly nominated each other football teams, I had Gillingham, my brothers Peterborough and Crystal Palace.  In the same vein I always think of Gillenia trifoliata as my signature plant.  It is thriving in a spot the text books called unsuitable after the removal of a nearby large tree.  Very adaptable us Gill’s.

Right, better get on, got gardening to do!

 

 

 

 

Roses, Roses, Roses

A splendid day at The Buns.  The sun shone, a breeze cooled, flowers bloomed.

But something was amiss in the Land of Lemon Drizzle.  Was there an inkling of strain in the sultry air?  What could the problem possibly be?  I think I have been forgiven for relegating their lavender from No. 1 in the hit parade to equal status with the French example.  However, I’m not so sure that Mrs B has forgiven me for telling everyone about her rejection of my geum pressie, and by association of me and my undying love and loyalty, as documented in a recent Six on Saturday.

Perhaps I should stop mentioning it, that might help.  One more time wouldn’t hurt.

Prerogative

The other day I was admiring a row of Lavandula angustifolia in The Buns’ garden. “I was just thinking” I said to Mrs Bun, who was troubled that I had drifted into some kind of pollen induced coma “that you can’t beat good old English lavender.”  Relieved that the body inaction was just due to brain over-action she replied “Definitely, I so agree”.  It was decided.

Today on Button Moon I wondered if I had been a little rash in pinning down my affections to just one species.  This French lavender, Lavandula stoechas, was doing its utmost to sway my opinion.  And it succeeded.

I have determined that they are both wonderful.  You don’t always have to have a favourite.  And you can always change your mind.  It is decided.

Six on Saturday – Regime

Saturday is flying away and I can’t keep up.  Unfortunately my usual weekend regime: dawntide 10k run followed by toasted quinoa breakfast with a quick scan of Plato’s Symposium, then a brisk hike up the Matterhorn, fitting in a visit to the local nursery on the descent and some hands on gardening when reaching home base, has meant that I have only just got around to writing my Six on Saturday.  Oh, hang on a minute, I think I might be getting myself mixed up with our guru The Dalai Propa.  My truth is that we went to Lidl and then on to ‘Spoons for a large glass of red and some chunky chips.  Never mind, I am here now.  It is Saturday and I have Six.  Which, if I have interpreted the rules correctly, is all that is required.

Strawberries is a great place to start.  Some have been munched already, which is fine.  But not by me, which is not.  I have picked a few to ripen fully indoors to foil the little slimy blighters.

Rosa ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ is flowering well, and not yet complaining for her pot restraints.  Obviously not blue in even the widest sense of the word, but I do love this colour, a mauvish grey perhaps?  The white stripes are also nice, but possibly indicate impending doom or nunglewurzles or even Serengeti fever.

Our shopping list today included beer, limes and donut peaches.  We came home with all of the above plus Aloysia citrodora, Lemon Verbena, and an Arts and Crafts sideboard.  These things happen.

Continuing in the herbalistic vein, is a beautifully variegated mint snuggling up to Viola ‘Molly Sanderson’.  The mint came from Mrs Bun.  It was very late on parade and we wondered if it had died “but you can’t kill mint!” we said.  Then, giggling I believe, it popped up everywhere. This is a little that was destined for the green bin.  Needless to say, it is corseted in a pot.  Its name is out there somewhere.

Now we have Glumicalyx nutans bought last year at RHS Rosemoor’s garden show.  I must hold my hand up and admit it was partly bought for its name, although I am very pleased that I did.  It is now planted by the side of the steps, so we can look up into the wonderful pendulous rusty orange flowers.

And lastly the lily that wasn’t the lily that I wanted.  It is forgiven.

All done, all dusted.  Until next time!

 

 

A Day in the Life of Max Doginovich

It was a pretty good day in Max Land.

The sun warmed, the brisk breeze cooled.  As well as the usual gardener creature there were plumbers to play with.  Sticks were aplenty.  Seagulls kept a respectful distance, taking it easy on account of the weather, but still you remained vigilant.  Unless of course there was chance of a diverting stick throw.  The fetid pond water was delicious to quench your thirst.  That clean stuff from the tap rejected as poison.  A sneaky mini pork pie a treat.

What more could a little dog ask for?

Six on Saturday – Downhill

Well it seems that is it.  The solstice has passed and we are now on the slippery slope to winter.   Passed in a jiffy didn’t it?   Here is my midsummer Six on Saturday.  And perversely it actually looks like a summer’s day out there.   It is where I should be, not here at my desk.   As my heart is elsewhere, to be on the safe side, we should proceed with great haste.  I’m sure our mentor The Prop is not sitting at his computer wasting sunlight hours thinking of things to say to his flock.  He will be prepared and have done all this silly writing stuff ages ago and at this very moment be hard at work in his garden.  Not me.  Not organised at all.  If we get on I might be able to steal a few moments of pottering later.

Here we are, my first photo, Simon the poppy.   Simon was trampled on by steel toe-capped builders and scaffolders until I pointed him out in the nicest possible way and asked them to try their very bestest to avoid stomping on his head again.  They did their best and here he is blooming well to tell the tale.  I do love a good red poppy and Simon is one of the best.

In my little garden I don’t have the benefit of potting shed or proper greenhouse.  When I do any potting up, pricking out or some such fiddlings, I sit on the bottom step of the set towards the top of the garden with my compost, pots and the “to be sorted” arranged about me.  I then settle down with a nice cup of coffee, which in matter of moments has compost floating on the top, and enter my own little world.   It was then that I noticed this chap on a Salvia elegans, possibly the diddiest grasshopper in the world.  Splendid antennae though.

Next Allium aflatunense ‘Purple Sensation’ which isn’t in the slightest bit sensational.    Perhaps it has a good excuse in failing to reach more than 20cm high.   They were planted late, they have been stood on (see above) and dug up by mistake (hangs head in shame).   Next year they will be wonderful, I can feel it in my bones.

A lovely surprise yesterday was to find that Peggy was flowering, albeit in a rather dishevelled way.  Like pancakes, the first dahlia flower is always a little bit dubious.

Next we have a horrid invasive geranium, it annoys me constantly by its continual march across the garden, swamping and strangling all that it passes.  Then the sun catches the veined indigo flowers and I am once more smitten.

Lastly the disgraceful sight of Big Ted after a night out on the tiles.   He has been severely reprimanded and is on house arrest for the foreseeable future.

All done, now let me out into the garden ……….