Off The Edge Gardening

Six on Saturday – Sun God

I am expecting great things from our band of SoSers this week. Specifically the UK department. Unfortunately we must exclude residents of the subgroup The Western Isles. Something very strange has happened. IT HASN’T RAINED FOR A WHOLE WEEK, NOT AT ALL, NOT ONE DROP! If you find this hard to believe, and I wouldn’t blame you, pop over to our very own Sun God Prop’s site and read all about it yourself. And at the same time you can console any contributors from Stornoway where there is aways a rain cloud lurking. I possibly exaggerate.

To begin with we have Anemone coronaria ‘Bordeaux’. I planted these in the same pot as Hedychium ‘Pradhani’ once it had died down for the season. Succession planting, extremely grown up. Little did I know quite how wonderful the blooms would be. The first blue bossed, deepest burgundy flower literally stopped me in my tracks when I spotted it earlier in the week.

Next we have a crocus with its violet veins on the palest lilac background. It has a name. It is a secret.

Now the new foliage of one of our apple trees. Look at the vibrant lime green leafettes with the softest indumentum, everything at this time of year begs close examination and praise. Come on apple tree do your best or I will chop you down!

On to Pelargonium cordifolium var. rubrocinctum which has spent the winter outside tucked in a corner, with the barest wisp of a covering when absolutely undeniable. Flowers are on the way, along with some new leaves. Much tougher (apparently) than you would imagine.

What lies beneath? When I tipped Potentilla ‘Brohna’ out of her pot to settle into the garden, I found that the base was being used as doss house for all manner and size of slugs. They hadn’t nibbled this plant but I imagine they nipped out at night for general rabble rousing and munching away from their own doorstep. Do not fear, they will nibble no more.

Lastly Tulipa ‘Blue Diamond’. How the mighty have fallen! It wasn’t long ago that I was coo-cooing over this tulip, it had prime position outside the back door, and its every wish was catered for. Now it is languishing up by the barely standing shed, the pot overtaken by oregano and residence of the horse’s head. It is still not blue, but it was forgiven for this misdemeanour a long time ago. Exile was harsh punishment.

All done for another week, may the sun continue to warm our hearts.

Tail End

It started well. A drive in the early morning sun as Exmoor looms large in the distance is rarely a chore. Arriving at The Mantles Estate my civet poo coffee was freshly brewed and only slightly less warm than my welcome. The twin magnolias battled to outdo each other’s beauty. Sparrows squabbled over prime real estate in the meld of clematis/wisteria. All was well in the world.

Lord Mantle is on a mission. It is called “tame the iris in the pond”. This Iris pseudoacorus, innocently planted several years ago, has become a island, so large the resident frogs recently declared independence from the Principality of Kemacott. This behaviour cannot be tolerated, these flags need to be culled. Too large to manhandle, His Lordship had a cunning plan. He bought a winch. Are warning bells ringing? They should be.

As we worked on our own jobs in the garden, myself and Her Ladyship were on high alert, ready to assist when needed. Which we were. We pulled, we pushed, we gave advice that was very well received (fib), we used broom handles and scaffolding planks as levers, we returned to our duties as necessary. The chief engineer was patient and methodical. “Can you just pull on this strap?” he asked in his pretty please voice. “Of course” I replied “It would be an honour”.

Really I should sue. Look at their faces of concern.

I had an extra cheese roll at lunch time. It seems it is more important than ever to pad out my tail end. My amble posterior saved me once again.

Six on Saturday – The Management

There have been complaints from The Management. We are talking Upper Management. Even higher than our master CEO Prop. Yes we are talking about Peggy, my mum. It has been noted, and duly logged, that I missed the last Six on Saturday and my excuses for this week fell on deaf ears. As I have rarely done as I was told since a I was a very young girl this would usually be shrugged off with a “whatever”. Then, she took a tumble. As she hasn’t been practicing her judo rolls she is feeling a little worse for wear. Anything to get me to do as I’m told.

Can I be honest with you without fear of rebuke? I thought not. Rebuke away. These photos were not taken in my garden and definitely not on a Saturday. And this is going to be brief. Concise is a better word. Let us go.

First Epimedium ‘Frohnleiten’, lovely jubbly.

Second Hacquetia epipactis, splendiferous.

Third forget-me-not, amazeballs.

Fourth Tasmannia lanceolata (Drimys lanceolata), fandabidosi.

Fifth Synthyris missurica, perfectarooney.

Lastly little mousie magnolia bud casing, stupendimania.

Adios friends!

Disappointed

It has been a disappointing week so far. The work has been fine, no complaints there. I am quite well, no extra aches and pains or sniffles. Spring has finally arrived, officially anyway. Gardens are mobilised ready for action, each day another plant primed.

But don’t tell me, after deluge and gale aplenty, that there will be fine weather when you can’t honour your promise. Murk and drizzle and gloom is no compromise. So disappointing.

Anticipation

A happy morning working out and about (for money and love) inspired an equally happy afternoon working at home (for love only).

The anticipation of joys to come is almost unbearable. Almost.

Gone

A welcome gap in the weather. After leaving the main road, en route to The Mantles’ estate, I spied a buzzard perching on a post at the side of the road. I cut my speed and approached slowly, coming to a halt next to this beautiful raptor who, other than giving me a derisory glance, paid little heed. Just as I drew my camera he looked me in the eye, and said “no paparazzi”, effortlessly gliding across the field to find a little more privacy.

Six on Saturday – Dyb, Dyb, Dyb

I’m prepared this week. No last-minute rush, all is calm and in control, just like a girl guide. In real life I didn’t make it to the heady heights of girl guidom, but I was in the brownies, who quite frankly take anyone. I can’t remember much of our exploits except there was a curiously large plastic mushroom placed in the middle of the room at all our gatherings. Like many of my fellow gang members, my arm was bedecked with various badges. Unfortunately they weren’t cool and sophisticated subjects in those days, no Inventing, or Aviation or Zero Waste. Possibly there was Crocheting Toilet Roll Covers and Defrosting Arctic Rolls, although I can’t be certain. The only one I remember for certain was the music badge. Perhaps too well. “What is this instrument?” the examiner asked pointing at a picture, “A bass” I replied. “Can you be more specific?”. I was puzzled, very puzzled, what could this highly technical terminology be. I had studied my Ladybird book The Story of Music from back to front and front to back, I had been confident I had all subjects covered. But I was flummoxed No light bulb moments. Eventually after much furrowed browing (which I blame for my present wrinkle predicament), some uming and a far amount of ahing, I conceded I didn’t know. She made a terse note on her clipboard. Now a little uncertain of myself, I went on to play my recorder solo, possibly a rendition of Handel’s Water Music, more likely Frère Jacques, as I say my memory is hazy. It turns out this mystery instrument is called a “double bass”. Give the gal a break! And yes, I am still bitter. And yes, I did get my badge. And yes, it is time I moved on.

Seems I have wandered off the track once more. I will lose my trekking award. Back to the task in hand, which is Six on Saturday. An event where billions of people from across the galaxy feature six items from their gardens, or an approximation on this theme, in a humongous horticultural jamboree. If you wish to get your SoS arm badge then pop on over to our Akela’s site and you can discover much more, including the words to She’ll be Coming Round the Mountain which you will need for a sing-song later.

First we have a viola which is still in its reticent stage. Each year is the same. I plant them with great verve and expectation, praising and naming them with great aplomb No. 1 in my top ten of winter bedding. Then they sit there. *time passes* Any flowers that deign to show their cutsie faces are nibbled by slugs in their overcoats, they grow lank and dishevelled. *time passes* Then eventually they wake up, read the contract and get into giving us a great display just when we are thinking about changing the display. We are still at stage 2, although this little chap has avoided mollusc attack so deserves a show and tell.

Next we have the emerging foliage of Lamprocapnos spectabile ‘Valentine’, or Dicentra specabilis ‘Valentine’ to those who knew it in its previous incarnation. They are perfect in their infancy. Scattered around are leaves from the large shrubby phlomis that shades it, torn off in the recent high winds.

Now we have the first showing of the diva Lilium ‘Casa Blanca’. This majestic lily was a gift from my favourite heckler. I don’t wish to ruin his reputation so he will remain anonymous.

Who invited you to the party?

Onto the emerging leaves of Potentilla ‘Lady Mantle’. This name has yet to be officially accepted by the Royal Horticultural Society. Which is mainly because I dug a piece out of her ladyship’s garden and ran home with the hounds snapping at my ankles. Without label naturellement.

Lastly a flower which is not in my garden, but it will be soon. This beautiful camellia bloom belongs to our neighbour. Soon, when it has bored of being splendid, it will drop over the wall onto the path that leads to our front door. I think it is quite fair that I can share in its loveliness, the fee being that I will clear up the deceased.

There we go, six done and dusted. Dyb, dyb, dyb, dob, dob, dob.

Summing Up of The Day

No complaints here!

Six on Saturday – Ennui

Six on Saturday here we go again, all good friends and jolly good company. Although I’m not feeling “jolly good company” this week. On the contrary, I am rather uninspired. Dull. Boring. Bored. Perhaps a little bit grumpy. But only a little. Maybe I should ring in sick, but then again I’m away next weekend and it might look suspicious. I can’t even think of anything cheeky to say about our leader The Propagator, other than he is our leader and of course that he is gorgeous (believe me flattery works every time). I’d better just get on with, sitting here at the dining table, typing away within one hand whilst making a chilli for tea with the other, neither with much conviction. OH is watching the rugby and shouting at the ref/touch judges/players/anyone who looks vaguely in his direction, his conviction never waivers.

On to the first photo. This is no exotic bloom, but our very own, introduced invasive weed, the three-cornered leek, Allium triquetral. I have no idea how it got into the garden, and although he denies it, I have my suspicions who smuggled this ferocious monster onto my patch. *follow my eyes to the hollering mad man on the sofa*. It was looking rather lovely in the sunshine yesterday.

Thank you to everyone who enquired as to the well-being of Simon the poppy, who had the misfortune to grow smack bang in the middle of the builder’s M4 motorway. “Everyone” amounted to the grand total of “no one”. As you can see, he is looking healthy and happy. For all you lot care.

Now we have Sophora microphylla which suffered terribly at the teeth of various beasts of 2018. It has limped along ever since, like a horticultural Tiny Tim. I am very pleased that it has gathered the strength to attempt a little flowering. God bless us every one.

My relationship with Exchorda x macrantha ‘The Bride’ is turbulent. Most of the year I am not enamoured with this tumblesome, unruly shrub, but as soon as the blooms begin I fall back in love. A little bit of die-back there needs sorting, anyone know a good gardener?

I spotted this hyacinth skulking amongst the foliage of the libertia. These loose panicled blooms are stunning, the iridescent blue of the bells perfectly set off by the midnight stems.

Lastly the Salvia gesneriiflora has just begun flowering. Bang on cue, “late winter, early spring”. But it was worth waiting for. Furry. Red. Giant. This was ~~the~~ one of the plants that I was unable to resist when I attended the Hardy Plant Society AGM last March. I’m so pleased that my willpower is so weak.

I made it! Now I’d better join in the shouting …….

Zeus

Today was my first day working in a new garden. Initial exploration is always fun, finding the lost and the unloved amongst the more strident. First the favourites – countless roses of all persuasions, a similar collection of clematis, dieramas popping up everywhere, as are passion flowers and agapanthus. The backbones include Arbutus unedo, the blue coned Abies koreana, camellias, hibiscus and magnolia. In two separate courtyard gardens, jasmines and wisteria flourish and nerines and citrus are safe in their terracotta pots. So many treasures, I am looking forward to getting to know them.

I’m sure there is something I’ve forgotten to tell you, it’s on the tip of my tongue …………… how could I forget him? A beautiful, strapping polar bear of a dog called Zeus. I am looking forward to getting to know him too!