Dinosaur

Hydrangea macrophylla ‘Ayesha’ is no one trick pony.  The pretty puckered flowers would be reason enough to welcome this beauty into your garden.   You could sit back and say “you have earned your place with your glorious blooms, no need for anymore effort”.  But then, as a autumnal bonus, the serrated leaves blush scarlet before they fall in embarrassment at their beauty.  I pointed out the red hemmed stegosaurus foliage to Ben today.  “Have you seen how wonderful these leaves are?  They remind me of dinosaurs”.  He squinted, tried his very best and made a hurried excuse.  Perhaps I should have drawn a picture.

 

Repeat

I have begun to repeat myself.  Most stories are prefaced with “please say if I have told you this before”.  Perhaps it is an inevitable phase of life.  It is not really that important unless, I suppose, you are the victim.

This is Dahlia australis, but it isn’t really.  Grown from seed as such, its semi-double flower indicates that all is not well.   I think that the milkman might have been a-calling.

I am depending on the fact that is that you have all forgotten that I have mentioned this before.  That too is an inevitable phase of life.  Which works for me.

Blame

Some plants are very late coming into bloom in our garden.  As we live in a blame-blame culture I am going to point the finger at a hard winter, a late spring, followed by a sweltering summer.  It could be one, the other, a combination of any, whatever, they are tardy.  This reluctance to flower may have been exacerbated by inadequate cold protection and lack of watering during the great drought of ’18.  Unlikely though, it couldn’t possibly be anything to do with my poor husbandry or lack of enthusiasm after tending to other peoples’ little darlings all day.  Crazy talk.

Dahlias, fuchsias, salvias, are all dawdling along as if they had all the time in the world.  Well let me tell you something my lovelies, you laid-back-to-vertical slovens, the winter is fast approaching and do I need to remind you what happened last year!  Get a move on, flower, shut down and prepare for the worst!

A beauty that is often late on parade is Tibouchina urvilleana, the Brazilian Glory Bush.  A gift from Mrs Fish before she headed south for the summer, the buds are almost as glorious as the flowers.  Not quite.  But almost.  Won’t be long.

Six on Saturday – Happy Holidays

After a week or more away, I have come home to builders, scaffolding, inaccessible plants and a really vicious cold.  For this reason (and I will continue to blame everything on the builders including my poor health, who in reality are rather nice chaps, until further notice) my Six on Saturday will dwell on holiday snaps.  Of course these consist, on the whole, pictures of plants.  This is probably just as well you wouldn’t want to see myself and OH in our “kiss me quick” hats, trousers rolled up daringly above the ankle, having a paddle.  If you would like to share in the experience of other SOSers, with or without builder input, pop on over to our Site Foreman to find out more.

First we have an osteospermum, growing in the recess of a wall overlooking St Ives.  Always a joy to visit, come torrential monsoon and high winds or shine.

bamboo

Next is a golden bamboo, possibly Phyllostachys aurea, but I’m not absolutely sure as I wandered off to admire it and I was reined back in.  Which happens unsurprisingly often. This photo was taken at The Leach Pottery, also in St Ives.  It is located about 100m from my childhood home and we always visit when we are down.  Incredible pots and wonderful memories.  Not that we were aware of it as kids, we were just kids.  In those days we were just interested in playing on the beach/woods/moors and eating Mr Kipling’s produce.  And yes we did buy more pots.  Very beautiful they are too.

Bidens

Then on to Penzance to catch up with old friends and continue our hedonistic adventures.  Our guest house had a rather amazing garden, which not only had sea views but was packed with colour.  These bidens were a treat, as was the Hummingbird Hawk Moth feasting on the Verbena bonariensis, which unfortunately avoided my lens.  You will have to trust me on that one.  On our last morning we were waiting for our taxi to take us to the train station, when a gentleman in a rather flamboyant shirt left the house.   He started a conversation, asking us where we going and the like.  He then dropped into the conversation, like a feather into a vat of oil, that he was returning from Kew Gardens to Tresco where he is the curator of Abbey Gardens.   I may have fainted.

Colquhounia coccinea

During our stay we visited the small-but-perfectly-formed Penlee Art Gallery and Museum, which is situated in Penlee Gardens.  I almost didn’t get in the door.  Waylaid variously by swathes of Tulbaghia violacea, a largeTrochodendron aralioides full of Sputnik fruit, white crinum and night scented Cestrum parqui.  The treasure which made me squeal with glee was this Colquhounia coccinea, unlike my own specimen, a strong and flower-full example.  When I got home I rushed to see if a miracle had happened.  No.

Fascicularia bicolor

I had a hunch when I saw the expanses of swordfish foliage that it might be something special.  A little poke about and I found what I was looking for, the outlandish flower head of Fascicularia bicolor .   Planted in a tiny garden, come seating area, just opposite the Jubilee Pool, this is another example of the exotic as ordinary.  Wonderful.

Peggy Pearlers

On our last day we had an itinerary.  We were having a day out with my good friend and jeweller to the stars (and me) Duibhne Gough, known to her pals as Div.  She would take us to The National Dahlia Collection, then lunch, then to a nursery, then to see her new workshop before home, tired but happy.  I have long wished to visit the dahlias at Varfell Farm, even more so since I named a dahlia after my Mum, read all about it here It Is All In The Name.  It was a fabulously sunny day with bloom after bloom after beautiful bloom.  But none were the special one.  Soon I was beginning to doubt myself and that it was in fact a cruel hoax.  Then a point and smile from the lovely Div and there she was in all her glory.  I can quite honestly say, in a totally biased manner, that Peggy Pearlers was the most beautiful specimen in the field.

After a delicious lunch our itinerary was scrapped, as £20 worth of unleaded had found its way into the diesel Citroen.  It turned out for the best, a balmy afternoon of laughter and lager (and the odd house white but that didn’t scan as well), and I didn’t buy a single plant!

Thank Mr P for being the host with the most.  Until next time!

Second Time Around

A day of mizzle and murk, that is until the moment I clocked off when the sun came out in all its glory.  Life is like that sometimes.

I arrived home to find the scaffolding complete and a quartet of builders in deep debate.  I am not absolutely certain, but I am pretty certain I overheard the words “metaphysics”, “bain-marie” and  “sledgehammer”.  Then I reversed into the drive.  My favourite occupation, reversing with an attentive audience.  You will be pleased to know that I didn’t hit the bins. Close, but not quite.

This Choisya ternata, the fragrant Mexican Orange Blossom, is having another shot at flowering.  Great idea.

Six on Saturday – Disrupted

It has been a disruptive week.  I am disrupted.  Bits all over the place.

Betwixt and between I have half an hour to spare.  What better use of this time than attempting a Six on Saturday.  I mean if Mr K can fell and dispose of a 15m length of leylandii and still contribute to The Propagator’s weekly assignment surely I can make the effort.  So this is it.  My disrupted effort.

Firstly we have scaffolding.  But you probably guessed that one.  They arrived yesterday morning.  One jolly, one with the demeanour of the devil.  That is just what I need in my life, I thought, another grumpy man.  They took out the front window and passed the uprights and crosses and planks and mud through out house.  Then it rained.  And galed.  And we dashed to cover and recover TV and books and chairs and grabbed paintings from the walls and watched our home implode.  Then they put the window back and we tided up.  All was well.  Until they come back to take it down again.

All my pots have been shoved, unceremoniously, into corners and alleys.  Many are out of reach, watering is not feasible, or my occasional tootling and worrying and nosing about.  One of which  has, by luck, found its way to the front of the corral is a garden centre rescuee, a “no label”.  This is when a little bit of knowledge comes in handy, and as you know a little bit is all I possess.  I was a little bit smug when this dark double auricula started to flower.  This is my glory shot.  Perhaps I should have saved it for later.

cosmos

Now we have the “cosmos that will not flower but is actually considering it now”.  Cheers mate.  About time.

Begonia

Next a begonia.  These are not my favourite.  I would not choose them, but OH thinks they are reliable and long flowering and trouble-free, all of which is true.  We must remember that it is not my garden, it is our garden.  This of course troubles me on occasion, but I have decided to keep OH for the meantime and therefore the begonias must also remain.

pyracantha

Another compromise, the pyracantha.  Prickly and painful.  But admittedly the fruit is both beautiful and worthy.

fuchsia

Lastly a garden stalwart, an anonymous fuchsia, which without care or attention returns each year with flowers aplenty.  No showstopper, but a fine spear carrier.

That is your lot.  Which is just as well because that half hour passed and things have been done and fine folk celebrated in the meantime.  Now I have returned and am ready to switch it all off. Thanks The Prop for your continuing propping.  Until next time ……

 

 

 

 

 

Demarcation

After very enjoyable, but rather hectic, weekend it was a treat to spend the day on Button Moon.  Even better I was joined by my friend Pickle.   First we surveyed the garden.  I was looking for progression and regression in order to make an accurate assessment of horticultural jobs and their relative urgency.  Pickle was compling an inventory of sticks, balls and miscellaneous toys including Pink Piggie.  Later I picked pears and apples, collected seed, weeded re-emerging ground elder and dead-headed herbaceous plants. Pickle rolled in badger poo.   So pleased we didn’t get our jobs mixed up.