Off The Edge Gardening

Six on Saturday – Accusations

There have been accusations. Wicked and cruel lies. Rumours abound that I have been flaunting the Six on Saturday rules. It would be unfair to name names as to the source of this gossip, but I will give you a couple of clues to their identity – Haribos and edifices.

I would like to put things straight. Firstly, I must reiterate that I am far too scared of Our Leader (who has a chart and gold stars and black grim reaper stickers) to waiver from anything but the strict party line. Secondly, there are rules? Why didn’t anyone mention this before?

Onwards and upwards. The first goodie of the day is an unnamed rose, already in the garden when we arrived. A couple of days ago my OH made a special request for a photo of this beauty. He says it reminds him of me – prickly and a bit rough around the edges. It could have been much worse. Unlike me it is deliciously fragrant and a repeat flowerer. I really should take some cuttings.

Next we have Scabiosa ‘Plum Pudding’, which has been bashed and buffeted about but is still hanging on it there. The flowers out of season are lighter in colour and smaller in size than a few months ago, but still worthy. Earlier in the week I sent The Prop some seed of this wonderfully richly coloured scabious. Yes, that is right, a little bribery and corruption, anything to get another gold star, although to be honest he hasn’t mentioned one. A little lax in habit, when placed with some supportive friends it will thank you (just like me).

Now the first Lavanula pinnata flower of the year, with a few more coming along in the background. At first I thought it was a snail nestling in the bloom, but I’m wondering if it is the rear view of a ladybird. I suppose I could go and check, but I’m not going to, looks cold out there, another storm on the way. Whichever, it is probably quite happily in dreamland, overcome by the lethean effect of the lavender.

This is a new one to me, a tentacled fruit of Liquidambar styraciflua. I have never seen one before, on our tree or any other, however I might just have been looking at my feet at the vital moment. The RHS website describes them as “inconspicuous” – not so Your Highnesses, not so! Once ripe I will of course be collecting the seed. If I have plenty, I might share with anyone who likes growing things from seed ……..

On to Salvia corrugata, just beginning to come into flower. The mother plant died last winter, which is not really surprising as its home range is Peru, Coloumbia and Ecuador. This is a cutting that was kept safe and sound. Apparently seed was first collected from the wild in 1988 and all plants in cultivation come from the six seeds that germinated from that trip. Precious.

Lastly we have a view of a section of the Bed of Anarchy. Left to its own devices it has gone from strength to strength. A few plants are struggling in the fray, but mostly they are finding their way and giving protection one another from wind, rain and chill. Read whatever you will from that.

Another SoS completed, in time and on budget. And the rules obeyed. I must find out just what they are in time for next week.

Curmudgeon

I am not a fan of Halloween. Quite the contrary.

However on this night, when my door bell rings, I attempt to go through the appropriate motions with at least a little feeling. I pretend to be terrified by the little ghouls and ghosties, I offer hypo-inducing sweets to the adorables in their costumes, I encourage and praise. But in truth I hate it. There are several reasons. When I get home after a hard day on the coal face I don’t want visitors however cutsie. I want to lounge in my faux caribou negligee with matching mules and eat a giant-sized bag of maltesers without interruption. And I am a scaredy cat, frightened of her own shadow half the time. Coming from a city where a knock on the door on All Hallow’s Eve often meant being faced by a trio of pubescent youths, demanding in their crackling voices “Trick or Treat” which meant “Treat or beware”. No less, there is all the wasteful tat sold for the event, the corporate marketing machine demanding the purchase of rubbish that will be no doubt be binned as soon as night is over.

But for fear of being thought an old curmudgeon, each year, instead of escaping to the pub, or perhaps sitting in darkness lain siege to in our own home, I buy half a hundred weight of treats and wait. When no one comes, like today, I am offended. Seriously, there is no way to win.

Sometimes I make things up, that is true. In my defence it is more “getting carried away” than “bare face fabrication”. This red hot poker is called Kniphofia ‘Happy Halloween’. Just the kind of thing that I could have invented. It is indeed fact, according to RHS Rosemoor. On reflection, there is always the possibility that they invented the name for the occassion. How could I suggest such a wicked thing! Must be something in the air tonight.

Distracted

When I arrived at The Mantle Mansion this morning I was distracted by something I had passed at the entrance. I wandered into the kitchen, poured myself a cup of coffee and greeted Their ‘Ships, who were dining on kedgeree and peasant porridge. “What is that out the front?” I questioned. They giggled in a very un-Lord and Lady manner. I was perturbed, what was so amusing about that innocent query? “The new plants by the door? What are they and where have they come from?” The dejected couple led me back to whence I had come to show me what I should have seen on my arrival. My defence for missing their pre-halloween prank was that I was distracted by some plants. This isn’t the first time it has happened, but it is the first time a skull was involved.

Six on Saturday – Dreary

It always takes me a few weeks to accustom myself to the shortening days and falling temperatures. All week I have struggled to get up in the morning and when I drag myself out of bed I am more belligerent teenager than disco diva. Today was no exception. There is one word that concisely sums it up. Dreary. The weather is dreary, I feel dreary, all is bloomin’ dreary. Still, I suppose it is all part of life’s rich tapestry, complaining will get me nowhere, least of all with you lot, so I will proceed with the always spectacularly undreary The Propagator’s meme, Six on Saturday. I can’t be bothered to explain what it’s all about, if you haven’t a clue what I am talking about (which to be honest is a regular occurrence for some) pop over to his pad and he can tell you all about it. Let’s get started.

We begin with a reluctant osteospermum. Petals held tight, closed until at the very least a single ray of sunshine warms it’s aching heart. I feel its pain. Hyperbole, moi?

Next an out of focus Geranium ‘Blue Orchid’. This is at present lodging at the far end of the alley to nowhere, out of harm’s (read builders and scaffolders, but of course I am just kidding myself nothing is totally safe from their tentacles of destruction) way. No I haven’t got over their recent little oops but I am working on it. This lovely little geranium was a gift from Julie, my friend from horti college. I could see a glimpse of blue out of the window so I went on a trek to find out who it belonged to. Shimmying through and around I could just about, at arm’s length, with a sophora getting a little fresh, snap a photo. It was a miracle of perseverance.

One of the reasons that it is becoming increasingly difficult to venture down plant alley is the relentless march of the nasturtiums. Here they are shown avalanching over a liquidambar, whilst a cosmos admires their exuberance. I keep pulling at it, it keeps on keeping on, laughing at me all the while.

Another plant which is showing no signs of slowing down is the cerise pink cosmos. After a very slow, snoozing sloth-like start, buds are popping up like chickenpox. This is a good thing. And not in the least dreary. I’m bored with dreary now, it is so, well dreary!

It was a tough year to be a rose in a pot, even more so in a garden full of container grown plants where you have to jostle for attention. Even so, it flowered well at the beginning of the year and has in the last few weeks gifted us some stragglers, this being one.

Lastly we have this diamond of a pelargonium and a confession. This was given to me last year by Mrs Bun and I was supposed to be donating it to Nancy Nightingale for her garden. For some reason it never ever made it there. In fact it didn’t get much further than outside my back door. My soul feels much better now. It is very beautiful.

Another Six on Saturday week completed, and yes it definitely is getting trickier each week. It is good to have a challenge. Which is no doubt just what I will be saying next time.

Acer japonicum ‘Vitifolium’

Hero and myself spent a wonderful day at RHS Rosemoor, successfully dodging heavy showers and small children dressed as gruffalos. It has been very difficult to pick just one photo to sum up the day. The magnificent cheese scone from the restaurant before we got going was a contender (had to build up my strength for the trek ahead and previous experience told me I wouldn’t be disappointed) as were callicarpa, kale and kniphofia. After much deliberation this Acer japonicum ‘Vitifolium’ won the contest. A vision indeed of autumn incarnate.

By Special Request

Just for you Mrs D, the Delusional Azalea. Still deluded.

Rogues and Roses

Bill and Ben’s garden was well planted, albeit several decades ago. To paraphrase Tennyson, it is “red in tooth and thorn” out there in the horticultural world. And we are talking about plants not the gardeners! Unchecked, interlopers invade, the vigorous stifle the slow-growing and the neglected grow unkept. I have been clearing an area over the last few months; bramble, couch grass, willow, Iris foetida, ivy, all fighting to be alpha weed, growing through a mat of Geranium procumbens. Oh, and a couple of roses. Spurred on by their presence this was to become a rose and wildlife garden. Today we reached a milestone. Already there are feeders and bird baths in place. Today it was planting day. More roses, including two single flowered which are easily accessible for pollinators, lavenders and penstemon.

This photo is of one of the existing roses, which after a rather late but much-needed prune and feed, has flowered well and is continuing to do so. There is hope in the wilderness.

Harvest Time

Exciting times. Today, the inaugural saffron harvest was undertaken at Chez Nous. There was no need to employ seasonal staff to help with the workload. We took full responsibility for the task at hand. Three beautiful stamen are now drying in their own tiny Tupperware box, nestled on some plumped up kitchen paper, for their regal comfort. Thanks to Lora for top tips. I’m planning a paella for 2025.

Six on Saturday – Sunny

The weeks are shepherding us towards winter, a time when finding suitable subjects for Six on Saturday becomes increasingly difficult. The Lord of the Prop, whose mighty hand rules us SoSers, has followers from all corners of the earth and beyond. For some of us spring is just getting into its stride, whilst for others the cold has already set in. In this neck of the woods we are experience some deliciously clement weather, the sun is shining and although the mornings have a rousing chill, there is enough midday warmth to warrant a partial striptease. Let us enjoy it whilst we can and get going on this week’s contribution.

After the hiatus in flowering, that I can only assume was caused by such heat and dry that nonplussed both plant and gardener, we are now making up for time. There are many first time bloomers this week, including this Cosmos ‘Purity’ which although short in stature is forgiven for its perfect flowers.

Top of the list for yesterday in the garden was getting my garlic planted. This is a cultivar called Dario which is new to me, but I liked the name and felt like trying something new. It is supposed to be strong-tasting and the word “excellent” was in the description. Yes, I do believe everything I read. We will have to wait until next summer to find out. For the literatii amongst you, yes Mr K I’m taking about you, this photo is pre-planting. It is posed. If I posted a picture of a pot of planted garlic (tongue twister, give it a go) it would look like, well, a pot full of compost. Rest assured that moments later the tubby cloves were pushed down to just cover their pointy heads. Now we wait.

Another later flowerer is Salvia atrocyanea, the Bolivian Sage. Blue flowers have a special place in my heart and this is no exception. Tall and vigorous once it gets going, this tuberous perennial is relatively hardy given a well-drained soil to snuggle up in.

The parent of this osteospermum didn’t make it through the various beasts of last winter/spring. Luckily I had a back up which flowered earlier in the year and now is having another go. Which has reminded me that I haven’t taken any cuttings. Hopefully it isn’t too late, I am living rather dangerously.

Now another plant that I have featured before, Fuchsia “Bornemann’s Beste”, which is also coming into its own at the moment. It was glistening bewitchingly in the sun today, closer inspection (with specs on) revealed that it is covered with tiny silver hairs. The gift that just keeps giving.

Lastly we have a tatty old leaf of Cercis canadensis ‘Forest Pansy’. It is featured for its pure resilience. I was certain there would be not a leaf left in the whole Shire after Storm Callum bullied his way through last week. A round of applause for FP please. You can let go now.

That’s it my lovelies, another SoS completed. Don’t forget to see what the rest of his disciples have been up to over at The Prop’s. Until next time …….

Sigh

This isn’t a moan, or a gripe, or a temper tantrum. Maybe it is a little bit of each. Mainly it is a sigh.

I had a wonderful afternoon in the garden. My garden. Potting on cuttings, pricking out seedlings, pootling about. Marvelling at the anarchy of the borders and making strange noises at next door’s cats. All was well in the world.

Clearing up I wandered out to fill the green bin and had a gander around whilst I was there. Which was where Disney turned to Tarantino. The half barrel, previously full of life, was now barely half alive. Where there had been an enthusiastic Impatiens puberula there was now mush. The vigorous dark-leaved geranium now reduced to a single anaemic leaf. An almost geometric line across the container was now dead or dying. What catastrophic event had occurred?

I texted the builder “please pop around before you go home”. He arrived with his mate, all dewy eyed and hopeful. We stood around the container and gazed at the carnage, each hopeful that Scotty would beam us up. He did not deny it was their fault. Mr Nobody had obviously tipped something on the unassuming plants. He was very sorry. He did look quite sad.

I tried to be cross. I am rubbish. Sigh.

As you are unlikely to enjoy the sight of dead plants, you can wonder at the beauty of flowers and seed heads of Clematis tangutica .

Sigh.