Six on Saturday – An Easter Parade

It is cold and miserable.  Yet again I did not want to go outside to take photographs for Six on Saturday.  Yes, I know I am a gardener and should be hardened to these things, but there is only so much dreariness a gal can take.   Then I had a little word in my own ear “Whoa now Neddy!  Less of that negative nonsense, slip off your marabou kitten heels, pop on your sparkling wellies and get your petite little rear out into the gloom.  Most importantly stop your incessant wingeing about the weather”.  And it worked!  I might try that again.  So just for you and our own Easter Bunny, The Propagator, (who will be handing out chocolate eggs to his favourite SoSers this holiday time) here is my Six on Saturday.  Yet again sharp focus has been forsaken in pursuit of the perfect art form (it was bloomin’ cold and I was therefore in a hurry).

Shall we proceed?  Some might have heard on the bloggy grapevine that last week I was hobbing with the nobs at the Hardy Plant Society AGM (unfortunately no oaty biscuits were involved).  Here I was honoured to meet the real life, not a robot after all, and champion blogger JK.  As reported by said supergrass, I may have purchased a couple of plants, but in my defence all but two were for my Esteemeds.  The best two of course.  I am a sucker for a salvia.  When I spotted this tall and handsome Mexican, Salvia gesneriiflora, our eyes met across the crowded room, my elbows went out and he was mine all mine.

Pteris umbrosaMy next purchase was a fern.  Now I generally have a problem with ferns.  I love them but find it tricky to distinguish one from the other.  Mostly.  There are some exceptions.  But not enough.  This little lovely is labelled Pteris umbrosa, the Jungle Brake Fern, from Eastern Australia.  However, it doesn’t look like any of the corresponding pictures on-line and isn’t mentioned in my new HPS Ferns book.  Perhaps it is because it is a youngster.  Any ideas anybody?  Nice to see it has made a new friend.  And that friend seems to have left a little gift.  How kind.

Hylotelephium spectabile Now we have a rescued Hylotelephium spectabile, found in the front garden being stifled under a carpet of ivy.  At the “do” last weekend Julian Sutton spoke at great length about plant names and how they have changed over the years and whys and wherefores and ifs and buts.  From both a scientific and a horticultural viewpoint.  This is a case in point, up until very recently it was known as Sedum spectabile. I am unable to comment on this change as after JS’s talk I was left feeling a little sorry for the botanists.  They need love too apparently.  And I have a blogging friend, the wonderful Diversifolius, who is one.  She also sells seeds!!!

BlueberryThe blueberry seems intent on flowering.  This is a good thing of course, flowers mean fruit, but only if they are pollinated.  There are not many pollinators about at the moment, and can you blame them?  I’d be snuggled up somewhere warm and dry too.  So I may have to help things along.  You never know the sun might come out and the insects with it.  I sincerely hope so.  It will be a squeeze getting into that bee costume after all my Easter eggs.

Last Sunday I potted up all my new bulbs, received earlier that week.   I’ve stored them underneath the bench, which might offer a smidgen of protection.  I know, going soft in my old age.  Nerine, leucocoryne, zephranthes and bessera, all putting down roots.  I am going to plant the chasmanthe direct into the garden, once the soil warms a little.  That will be August then.

ostrich eggsAnd finally, a couple of goose eggs, a gift from the Head Gardener at Marwood.  Apparently each one is the equivalent of four hens eggs.  That is some egg.  And I’ve got two!

Don’t forget to pop over to The Prop’s to check out all the other Six on Saturdays, and perhaps even be tempted to join in yourself!

Happy Easter to you all.  Anyone fancy an omelette ?!

 

 

 

Trolley Dash

Actually we didn’t dash, we dawdled, but Trolley Dawdle doesn’t sound quite as good.   The rain was doing its best to scupper all hope of any gardening, so Max’s Dad and myself resorted to Plan B.  B stands for “better”, that is “better shopping”.   This was our first visit of the year to Marwood Hill Gardens and although we only got as far as the plant centre, en route we sneaked glimpses of camellia and magnolia magic.   The trip was a great purchasing success and by the time we reached home most of the seriously bad weather had shifted eastwards.  What is more, we came away with an unusual bonus, but you will have to wait a while to find out exactly what that was …..

 

Prickly

As far as prickly days go, and there is no doubt that is exactly what today was, it was a good one.   At Bill and Benjamina’s, a month or so ago, men with machines carved through brambles at irregular heights before dashing off in their white van to some other garden needy of petrol and posing.  This left a vacancy for some fool (sans machine but with a Ford Focus to make a juddering getaway) to untangle these spiny constrictors from their unfortunate supports and dig up the already shooting and determined roots.  The lucky gal who won the contract was little old me!

Still the sun shone and I made headway on a job that will take weeks to complete.  At the end of the day I admired the pile of cruel brambles, ivy, self-seeded trees and a proportion of a rampant ornamental salix.   Halfway through the afternoon I made a small diversion, attempting to rescue a hacked at hydrangea (hedge trimmer I am guessing), half dead but with potential to be something special.  Long before B&B took residence, the garden was planted by a woman, now in her 90’s, who obviously was a keen dabbler in the green arts.   Who knows what beauty this sickly hydrangea might turn out to be?  While there is life there is definitely hope and while there is hope I will continue to dig up those darned brambles.

The shot above caught my eye just as I was leaving.  This garden has many hellebores, most I imagine are seedlings, they form carpets beneath the trees in a range of colours and sizes.  The narcissus positioned perfectly in the foreground.  I believe there are horticultural treasures waiting to be found here, beneath the detritus.

Six on Saturday – Time Travel

Today, Saturday 24 March 2018, I am on a secret mission with several other SoS-ers.  It is thanks to the magic of time travel and WordPress scheduling I am able to bring you my contribution this week.  Take a look at our leader The Propmeister‘s blog and all will be revealed about what Six on Saturday is all about.  When you find out will you please let me know.  I must get on, I have to polish my boots.

My first photo is entitled “How the Mighty Have Fallen”.  Now I regret my cursing and chopping back of this exuberant Euryops chrysanthemoides  wishing it was a little less vigourous.  I also rue my cockiness about its safety.  As the Beast from the East seems to be a pack of wolves rather than a lone traveller, with another attack due next weekend, I am feeling rather nervous about its fate.

A parcel arriving is always an exciting thing.  When it comes from de Jager and has bulbs inside it, even more so.  Rest assured, no lessons about growing tender plants have been learnt.

Fritillaria uva vulpis

A stop off on the way home from Cardiff as couple of weeks ago resulted in a few purchases.  Some went to a client, some came home with me.  This Fritillaria uva vulpis, Fox’s Grape Fritillary, was one that has now joined the happy throng at my house.  Or perhaps the cold and slightly miserable throng.  Looks jolly enough though.

Another purchase on the same expedition (it is illegal to buy just one plant and equally unlawful not to have a bleeding heart in your garden) was Lamprocapnos spectabilis ‘Valentine’.  Although unplanted as yet, it is looking surprisingly chipper, even after languishing under several inches of snow for a few days.

Primula sieboldii 'Essie'

In all the slush and rotting vegetation we have more positivity in the emerging furry shoots of  Primula sieboldii  ‘Essie’.  This was purchased from Penny’s Primulas as couple of years ago, whose spectacular cultivars are named after their beloved cats.  You will have to wait and see what this moggy looks like.  Liking the dramatic build up?

spider

Lastly we have a little chap who was basking in the sunshine this morning.  He must have hunkered down in the Osteo that Refuses to Die with his new caterpillar best friend, now known as H R Puffin Stuff thanks to Tony.  Seems like he has a leg in the wrong place, who knows what was going on underneath that horticultural fleece.  Perhaps it is an optical illusion.

That’s all folks!  Thanks again to The Propagator for hosting this meme.   I am loving this time travel lark.  Have they appointed a new Doctor yet? I’ve got a brilliant idea, they could have a woman as the next Doctor and it could be me.  What do you think?  Sorry, what was that?  I’ve missed the boat?  It was worth a crack.

 

 

 

Mode d’Emploi

From this day forward there is to be an alteration to clause 3.7(a) of my constitution, my contract of business, my mode d’emploi.  Amendments are in bold.

3.7 (a)  All prospective employers must have at least one of the following items in order to entertain the gardener: a daft but adorable dog, good jokes, an affectionate cat, egg laying chickens, great conversation, or delicious cake or small well-behaved children who are hard-working, obedient, don’t whinge and gaze at me in awe.

Another fun day at Nancy Nightingale’s.

Thief

I haven’t had many job interviews, and not one single proper PowerPoint presentation/isometric testing/raft building/tap dancing interrogation.  But I have heard tales.  Scary tales.  Mostly I have stumbled upon jobs, my prospective employers were either desperate or didn’t care who they employed as they were off to South America on the next boat.  A bit of a chat whilst they looked out the window and voilà (for Fred) I was just what they were looking for.

This means that I am not really conversant in what happens during a real interview.  Do they really ask “what do you consider your worst personality trait to be?” or is that confined to comedy sketches?  Today, whilst pondering awhile, I decided that if I ever had the misfortune to have an interview again and they asked me that particular question I would answer “procrastination”.  On reflection I probably I wouldn’t as I would undoubtedly be rejected, they would have “found a better candidate” one “more suited to the job”.  However, if they dropped some truth serum into my coffee (that could possibly happen, I’ve been told that some of these interviewers are ruthless) that is what I would have to say. And of course it would be quite true.  You cannot fight the truth serum.

There was something I should have been doing today, some writing that is due by the end of the week.  But I was faffing.  Why couldn’t I just get on with it?  I had the time, there was no need to rush, I enjoy it, I feel wonderful when its done, so why the silly diversions and distractions?  So I went for a walk to clear my head.  It was warm in the sun, birds were making up for lost time and the tree peony was unfolding in anticipation of spring.  I felt healed.  My head was clear.

I came home and made roasted garlic and butternut squash soup.  Then I finished my article.  Now onto the next one …..

Hope

Not today’s photo, in fact it is ancient history, taken at the beginning of last week.  I spotted this little monster happily scoffing the flowers of one of my ever-flowering osteospermums.  Potential for Six on Saturday, I thought, if I ever get around to taking any more pictures.  Which I didn’t.

Since then all has changed.  You may have heard about it.  It has turned a little nippy again.  In an attempt to rescue at least some of my plants, the osteo and its neighbours have been wrapped in horticultural fleece.  This time I actually managed to protect them before the weather turned for the worse.  Earlier today I removed the snow that was weighing down their cosy blanket.  But it was too soon to release them from their corsets, another threat had emerged.  At irregular intervals globs of thawing snow were falling from the roof above.  These were unceremoniously splatting atop the already irritated plants below.  I believe it is called, adding insult to injury.

I wonder if Katrina the Caterpillar has hunkered down, snuggling up between the various pelargonium, tibouchina and salvias.  If there is hope for her, then there is hope for the poor unfortunate plants.  And I do tend to live in hope.