Six on Saturday – Disappointment

Since I was last SoSing I’ve been on my travels, back to my former stomping ground in North Devon. It was wonderful, it did not disappoint. Well perhaps only once, when due to circumstances and issues far more important than me, I couldn’t see my old pal Hero. There will be other times, I am sure. We were hoping to visit the glorious Marwood Hill Gardens and my plan was to feature it in the next Six. The best laid plans of mice and gardeners …. Back to the drawing board, we will have to make do with Chez Nous. If you would like to learn more about Six on Saturdaying and meet some pretty cool characters, get your party shoes on and pop over to Garden Ruminations!

Now, let’s get on, the eggs are boiling.

This Miscathus sinensis ‘Zebrinus’, a rescue/relocation from my sponsor, seems to be quite happy to remain less than 1m tall. Perhaps it is a short cultivar. Perhaps it is unhappy. Perhaps it just likes being petite.

As mentioned by Jim last week, or was it the week before?, here is the mother ship, Impatiens arguta ‘Alba’. This plant, and all her relations, were extremely happy about the wet summer, unlike most of us.

In our house we are rather fond of Scotch Bonnets. This year I harvested some seed from a Waitrose chilli pepper and this is the result. Of course, other supermarket produce is available.

There is a row of pots against the our house that are destined for the greenhouse and warmer climes. This is Salvia involucrata ‘Hadspen’ which survived the cold winter before last in the ground, but failed in the last mild but wet one. So, Miss Marple, I would suggest it was the rain, in the clay, in the Bed of Anarchy, that done it in! Through more luck than judgement I had a couple of cuttings. One is doing well in one of my gardens, this is the other. Now to get it through the winter.

Why everyone doesn’t grow dahlia from seed is a complete mystery to me. This is a perky little darling from this year, a little nibbled. I rest my case.

Salvia curviflora is quite frankly just showing off now, it started early and seems loathe to stop. No complaints here.

There we have it, Six not from Marwood but from my garden. That will have to wait for another day.

Six on Saturday – The Green Side

Social media gets a lot of criticism and, in many cases, rightly so. All these applications are tools, and like any other tool, or indeed weapon, they can be used for good or ill. Unfortunately, when anonymous or pseudonymed, it is all too easy to be a cruel critic or malicious commentator. Of course, this not the whole story, there is a less headline-savoury version. That is, the good ‘uns. The rescuers from loneliness, the educators, the empathisers. I am just a toe tippler in all things internet, just skimming the surface with a feather, and I am quite aware there are sharks lurking below. However, in my experience, there has never been any ill will on Six on Saturday, no spite or guile, this is one of its many joys, it is a safe place to share both success and failure without risk of attack. Over the years I have developed a relationship of sorts with many of my co-SoSers. Which is why, when I hear of devastating hurricanes in Florida, I worry about how The Shrub Queen and her friends of family are getting on. I’ve checked, she is fine, but I am sure I am not alone in my concern. Of course SoS is not without jeopardy. There is much temptation, plantaholics enter at your peril, but for those of us with ninja self control, such as myself, you should have no fear. For these many reasons, I must herald our meme-der, Jim, who facilitates Six on Saturday. Long live the green side of life! In celebration of all the good things, shall we proceed?

The impatiens have enjoyed this damp and dreadful summer. Barely a sulk between the lot of them. Impatiens flanaganae is no exception.

Earlier in the year I bought Saxifraga fortunei ‘Blackberry and Apple Pie’. It has struggled a little, frazzling hysterically at the mere glimpse of sun, even though it is in a shady part of the garden. It has been swamped by other less fussy souls, no room for slackers here, but today I noticed an elegant outreach of flowers. There is hope.

Can there be too many honka dahlias in the world? Definitely not. A mix up may have occurred, or perhaps it is a seedling, so a name will not be forthcoming. I could make one up, if it makes you feel better. How about Scrumptious?

Salvia ‘Waverly’ is just getting going. Some rubbish garden designer placed it too close to it’s near relative Salvia leucantha which diminishes the effect of both. A lesson learnt. Perhaps.

Another newish fuchsia is ‘Whiteknights Ruby’. It came to me as a babe in arms last year and after some cossetting and kind words is now looking quite happy. Something else to over winter in the greenhouse. I might put in for an extension.

Hedychium ‘Pradham’ was less forgiving of the move from North Devon, but has had three fine flower heads this year. The only way is up, baby!

There we have it, another Six on Saturday. Stay safe and well, everyone.

Six on Saturday – Windy

Another challenging SoS photography session. These days it seems to be windy all the time, the only difference is variation in speed, from impossible to bearable. I’ve done my best, which will have to suffice. As I have said before, any complaints are to be sent directly to my agent: Mr Bin, Recycling Row, Rubbish Town. If you would like to know more about Six on Saturday, or perhaps even participate, pop over to Garden Ruminations and all should be revealed. Either that or you will be more confused than ever. Both options are acceptable. Shall we shake a leg?

Last year Tithonia rotundifolia ‘Torch’ reached 2m tall in our garden. I duly collected seed from this mammoth, sure to pass it’s gargantuan genes onto its offspring. Which is why I planted this seedling toward the back of the border. Far be it for me to judge, but it could have tried a little bit harder.

Rosa ‘Peace’ is having another go. If only it were that simple.

Our Jacaranda mimosifolia struggled through last winter. Nothing will be gained from finger pointing or blame. Although in a court of law it would be tricky to defend my deficiencies. It was touch and go for a while. I wondered if this was the end. But no. Shooting from the base, after the most cruel dramatic pause, all seems well. Until the next time.

Hedychium ‘Tara Seedling’ has settled in nicely. There have been six blooms so far this year. The indomitable Tony Schilling told me two things about this fabulous plant, 1. Don’t move them until they come into growth in spring or they will sulk, 2) Don’t worry about hardiness, I found it in the Himalayas!

Begonia ‘Claret Jug’ has proved to be both resilient and prodigious. Perhaps a little too prodigious.

Salvia ‘Neon’ is another stalwart in the garden and another flower I find tricky to photograph. You will have to take my word for it: vibrant, intense, illuminating. Maybe you had to be there.

‘Til next time.

Six on Saturday – Jaunty

After the wind and rain of the last couple of days, much of the garden is at a distinctly jaunty angle. To be honest, I’m surprised there are not more casualties, but there is time enough for disaster. Always look on the bright side. First a disclaimer: I braved the weather to take these photographs, yes, a medal please, so no snarky comments about blurriness. Think romantic, soft focus, atmosphere. Secondly: To find out more about Six on Saturdaying, to join in or maybe just read other contributions and be inspired, pop over to Garden Ruminations and everything you could possible want will be at your finger tips. No exaggeration. Thirdly: Let’s get on with it.

Old Gertie is having another go. Rosa ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ has performed well this year, as have most of the roses. Which was, indeed, predicted by Elvis Costello.

Hedychium ‘Assam Orange’ is new to our garden, although I have grown it before. Perhaps not the showiest of the gingers, it is stalwart and reliable, the perfect kind of friend. It also has the most amazing berries later in the year. What is not to love?

This was a unexpected and pleasant surprise. The Cuphea lanceolata, grown in this spot last year, has generously spread its progeny.

I’m a massive fan of New Guinea impatiens. I’ve got a big pot of deep red ones in the north facing front of the house and this pale pink out the back in the shade of the tree. They keep keeping on for months on end, until the frost eventually end its fun. And my fun too.

Most of the dahlias have been happily flowering away for a few weeks. Dahlia ‘Veronne’s Obsidian’ is fashionably late, making its dramatic and slightly ominous arrival just in time for the autumn.

Another newbie is this fabulous South American, Fuchsia ‘Vulcanica’. I am ever so slightly smitten.

There we have it, the first autumnal, après storm, post of the year. So far we have come off lightly.

Smelly

It may well be hyperbole to suggest that, as a gardener, my only occasional sense of smell is a tragedy. When I tell people they roll their eyes in disbelief “what nothing?”. Then I tell them I also suffer terribly from hayfever, unconnected but adding extra straws to the poor camel’s back. “And you are a gardener? Isn’t that a rather odd choice of career?”. To my mind, it shows how committed I am, that even without the added dimension of fragrance and that for several months a year I am an itching, snivelling mess, I still want to tend gardens.

However, in the last few weeks, due to a blast of steroids and decreasing pollen production, I have been able to smell somewhat. Quite how efficiently is hard to tell. This ability will undoubtedly swiftly diminish over the coming days/weeks until once more I am bereft. There is no time to delay!

On Wednesday, at The Fit Family’s, I took full advantage of this window of opportunity. And what a wonderful journey it was. The experience was no doubt exacerbated by the aroma enhancing sunshine, something we have been lacking in of late. Lavender, rosemary, nepeta, sweet peas, salvia, mint and thyme were savoured, inducing memories of times past. A little like Marcel Proust’s madeleine but not as posh. I even rubbed the stinking leaves of Vestia foetida for the complete experience.

But, it was this, unnamed bloom that kept drawing me back for another go. Unadulterated essence of rose. Perfect. I will try to remember until the next time I am blessed again, whenever that might be.

Critical

Some of my clients are unnecessarily critical of their own garden. They only notice the things that have failed, are not tall or prolific enough, have not quite lived up to expectation. This is not unusual, we often see the weeds before the flowers in our own gardens and the contrary in others. Sometimes we should just stand back and, even if we need to squint just a little, appreciate the beauty that we have had a hand in creating.

Last week, I was playing the usual game of hide and seek with Welsh Ann. Come to think of it, on the whole, she hides from me and I hunt for her. Should I be reading something into this? As my search progressed, I walked under the car port that separates front from back and was greeted with this wonderful display. I thought “how lovely” and “this should be shared”. And so I have. It is very beautiful. You have done a fine job, WA!

Six on Saturday – Antipodes

As our lovely antipodean SoSers are feeling the garden sap rise, so we in the northern hemisphere are beginning to sense the onslaught of autumn. Which has made me think, what does that make us, what is the opposite of antipodean? Hang on a minute, I’ll consult my extensive library, primary, secondary sources, microfiche and digital storage. Apparently antipodes simply means somewhere diametrically opposite, which of course means that here in the UK we are antipodean to those in our antipodes. I may have fallen down a big hole here. I think we better get back to SoSing, Jim will explain all.

The dahlias have been a little late on parade this year. Is it because they stayed in the ground over winter or we haven’t had the heat this year to remind them of their Mexican ancestral home? Who can say? Someone, I’m sure. No matter, they are welcome to both gardener and pollinator whenever they choose to arrive.

This year I grew Datura metel ‘Belle Blanche’ from HPS seed. They grew well and flowered beyond their young years. Even more disturbing than their rapid growth are the spiny fruit, reminiscent of a morning star. Not the socialist newspaper but a formidable armour-piercing medieval weapon. Although I would imagine a sharp slap with a newspaper might sting, it would be as well not to get the two confused in armed combat.

This Potentilla atrosanguinea has managed to poke its head above the melee and is looking particularly good amongst the dark leaves of Dahlia ‘Bishop of York’.

As is this community’s wont, I was sent a package of various seed from Fred, an SoS stalwart and fine gentleman. I was particularly pleased to receive, most probably due to shameful hinting, Geranium maderence. I duly sowed the seed and waited, quite patiently. After a few weeks I became downhearted and ignored the pot, save for the occasional water accompanied by a wishful/scornful/disappointed look. It seemed to work. One seedling has appeared. I am very happy. I shall continue the glaring in the hope more will appear.

The aubergine have pulled their weight this year. This is Rosa Bianca, reminding us why they are also known as egg plants. Ostrich egg, in this case.

About as common as I am, the vigorous Rubeckia fulgida runs a thin line between glorious beauty and irritating invader. Today it is the former. The story of my garden and my life.

Next time it will be September. Crazy talk.

Red Herring

The header shot is a red herring. It reflects neither my world nor my mood. Today is more rain and rainy days blues than sun and sunflower cheer. A blip, or perhaps another blip in a summer of blips. An enforced holiday. I’ve spent the morning constructively; I’ve made soup from a selection of our tomatoes, attempted to tame the kraken that is my late-season greenhouse and in the process discovered an errant monster cucumber. I’ve been for a walk in the weather and checked my favourite horse chestnut tree for conker progress, quite good since you ask. And I’ve tidied my desk, which means I’ve moved things around a bit. This has inspired me to introduce you to a new member of our household and resident of my office.

In our house we love a rummage in antique/bric-a-brac/junk shops. And we have found a formula that seems to work for us. We never walk around together, we move around the shop independently then at the end compare notes of likes and loves and must haves. OH is a scanner, minesweeping for treasure, swift, efficient. I like to chat to a few people, pick things up, daydream a little and for these reasons take much longer. A couple of weeks ago we visited a favourite of ours, one we always visit when we are in town, a tiny converted chapel over two diddy floors. As usual, OH had finished his tour and I had barely got into my stride. I had already selected a green passion flower patterned Wedgewood plate and spoken to the owner about a new restaurant. Then I went upstairs to admire the handmade quilts, leaving OH waiting non-patiently. And almost immediately I found my prize. I went downstairs with this charming chalkware terrier held aloft smiling in triumph. “You aren’t serious?!” OH said. Crestfallen, incredulous that anyone didn’t feel the same way, I said “He can live in the office with me”. Which is where he resides, on my desk, ever so often his little eyes meeting mine. As yet he doesn’t have a name. Suggestions on a postcard, please.

Six on Saturday – Fallen

Voice in Head, Angel Division: You really should ensure everything is well staked in the garden this year, traditionally you are rather lax in this department.

Voice in Head, Devil Division: But they look so ugly and intrusive for such a long time and to be honest I can’t be bothered.

A few weeks pass.

Voice in Head, Angel Division: Everything is growing well, you don’t want to miss your staking chance. You will live to regret your laziness.

Voice in Head, Devil Division: Stop nagging, the borders are so densely packed the plants will hold each other up.

Summer storm.

Voice in Head, Angel Division: I told you so. I’m sure that Jim and the other SoSers won’t have been so remiss.

Voice in Head, Devil Division: You are getting on my nerves now, Ms Smarty-pants! Will it make you feel better if I confess?

Voice in Head, Angel Division: Probably the best idea.

Oh dear, this cosmos, just coming into full flower, was snapped at the base and beyond saving, a sorry sight. My head hangs in shame. And such a pretty colour.

Although tragic, the loss of the cosmos was celebrated by those behind, who could do with a little more wriggle room. The ethereal Salvia patens should never have its light quashed under a bushel, or indeed behind a cosmos.

A couple of weeks ago I accused a particularly fine purple gladioli of elbowing out the others. I was wrong, a perfectly pure white flower (one for Tony) appeared. Again, I was wrong to leave it unsupported, vulnerable to the elements. Not sure that those two wrongs make a right. History would agree.

If it wasn’t for the other casualties in the garden, one might be forgiven for thinking the teasel damage was sabotage. The bee isn’t bothered by the prostrate angle of it’s dinner, which made it impossible for me to cut off this part of the plant. Darned conscience!

The eryngium has tumbled into the Rudbeckia fulgida, which is not altogether a bad thing, aesthetically anyway. The rudbeckia, like much in the Bed of Anarchy, is in need of a firm hand. I promise this will be done in the autumn, but I wouldn’t trust my word.

Not all succumbed to my neglect. A low centre of gravity and a sturdy base helps to weather most storms, which is exactly what Dahlia ‘Labyrinth’ has done. A flower after my own heart.

Voice in Head, Devil Division: Happy now?!

Voice in Head, Angel Division: Now about that rudbeckia ……

Shopping

This photo wasn’t taken today. Today was a quite different story. Same place, the Fit Family residence, but with substantially more rain and significantly less sunblock. All these handsome plants are now safely in their new homes and most are settling in nicely.

I enjoy a bit of shopping, that has been well documented, and plants are high up on my list of preferred acquisitions, especially if someone else is footing the bill. It took two attempts to visit the nursery these goodies were purchased; reached down an obscure country lane with no obvious signage. A proper old school establishment, replete with polytunnels and dutch trolleys, classic fare. The first time they told us, through padlocked gates, that they were preparing for Chelsea and we were turned away. I am assuming this was the RHS Garden Show rather than a West London football derby, but I might be mistaken. The second time, the gate was again locked but after suspicious side glances and mutterings they allowed us entry. I’m not sure if Mrs Fit whispered a secret password or unveiled threat, or perhaps they remembered that in order to run a business they should allow people in to buy plants. Any are possible.

Once we had gained access to the permissible polytunnels (“not that one! or that one!”), we shopped with stealth and precision, nods or head shakes confirming or disapproving choices, before moving onto the next tranche.

Our choices were packed into the back of the car, payment was made and we were on our way home with just enough time to unload before I had to leave for the day. Which meant that the following week I was reminded yet again of the fabulous plants we bought. And all over again I marveled at their beauty and smiled.

Although this simple tale is a snapshot of a sunny morning a few weeks ago, perhaps this is the day we need something bright and beautiful to remind us, well, that bright and beautiful things do exist.