Cocky

On my Sabbatical Itinerary Spreadsheet (SIS, not to be confused with SoS, or indeed the SAS) today’s date was marked “this is the day you realise that you go back to work in two days time and you haven’t even looked at the itinerary yet”.  And true to form I find myself running a “little” behind with my chores.  Luckily the sun was shining so I sat outside and cleaned and sharpened my tools, WD40-ed them and myself (there are probably other such magic potions available but in my eyes none to can match the glorious “W” and my aching knees certainly benefited from a dose), I wiped the mould off and dubbined my secateur holster and belt, and gave a cursory wash to my work gloves (4 standard pairs, 1 woolly) and knee pads (1 pair, pink) and hung them on the line.

I’m feeling rather pleased with myself.

Oh no, its raining …….

Lady Mantle and Me

Today Lady Mantle ventured from her grand estate, unaccompanied by chauffeur or maid, to visit me.  We have missed each other.  Well I have missed her, I shouldn’t presume.  The rain battered us as we ventured towards the town.   Not ideal for wandering and catching up, but we had few choices.  Walk, drive or don’t bother.  Do not be fooled by her aristocratic moniker, she is made of stern stuff.  The prize was worth the battle.  An indulgent, delicious lunch, then pottering buying essentials (seed potatoes and tree ties) (no, I never give up).   We negotiated jobs, for both hers and mine, we talked to strangers, we teased shop assistants, we did not appreciate art.  Then a meander down to the sea to stand together watching waves, Wales and lone walkers in the distance.  We enjoyed each others company. It was easy.  It was a wonderful day.

Friends are very precious and should not be taken for granted.  Sometimes perhaps I do.  You know who are and I love you.

That is it, less of the soppy stuff.

As we stood at the sea wall, we wondered why these steps had been carved out of the rock and who had undertaken such a job.  I’m not sure we really wanted to know the answer.

Allium

Another day, another few photos sorted.  Which is good of course.  This allium close-up was taken in March 2016 in the garden of my lovely ex-clients Lavinia and Lionel.  Happy memories.

What is even better is that I braved the mizzle and ventured into the garden.  Admittedly it was not for long, but long enough to plant out my new primulas and sow some seed.  These seeds are now lined up in individual pots, twelve of them, which fit perfectly into an old roasting tin.  Classy.  This tin now resides in my tiny office, which is light and not overly warm and conveniently close for inspection.  I shall be checking them unnaturally often.

Soggy Six on Saturday

Another wet Saturday.  Another soggy Six on Saturday, SSoS.  If you would like to see how wet or dry my compadres are then pop over to the captain of our ship The Propagator and find out for yourself.

So let us splodge on.  Shall we talk about the rain? In order to accurately convey my feelings on the subject I have composed my own little ditty, based on an ancient English nursery rhyme, here we go: “It’s raining it’s pouring, good Lord it is so boring”.  I know, so many talents, it really isn’t fair on the rest. Across the road the local team are preparing to play a game endemic to these parts, swamp rugby with visibility of approximately 3m.  If it didn’t mean getting soaked myself, I think it would be a very amusing match to watch.  But I digress.  I had considered taking all my photos from indoors, where it isn’t quite as damp.  My first picture is an attempt at inside/out SoSing.  I am not sure it works.  Further fearing the ridicule of my peers I gathered courage and waterproofs and stepped out into the mire.

primulas

Earlier today, whilst shopping for provision for the ark (hay, spare wildebeests, ants and gin mainly) I spotted this tray of jolly primulas.  It would have been rude not to.  They will be ideal for one of my new pots.  As you can see I have already carefully positioned them.  At least they will be getting watered there, unlike in the place from whence they came.

Yesterday I spotted this germinated seed on top of the soil in the front garden.   I am hoping it is a Rhodotypos scandens, as it is not far from the shrub and looks vaguely familiar.  When it stops raining I will pot it up, unless someone eats it in the meantime.  What I should have done is push it gently into the ground and mark its position.  Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

cyclamen

Next this blushing cyclamen. No words needed. Except perhaps “yum”.

Now some good news.  The tulips I planted in the autumn have eventually begun to poke their noses through the compost.  I was beginning to doubt that I had actually planted them.

osteospermum

And lastly, the valiant osteospermum, native of South Africa, lover of hot, dry conditions, continuing to bud and flower in monsoon condition.   A repeat I know.  But I don’t care.  Respect.

There we have it, another Six on Saturday completed.  Thanks Mr P.  Another gold star on the chart for me?

 

 

 

 

 

Problems

One of the many problems I have come across whilst culling and cataloguing my photos (apart from general inertia, irresistible diversions, mind numbing tedium and chronic indecision) is that sometimes I can’t remember what the subject is.  I look at a flower or a tree or a shrub and I think “face looks familiar but can’t put a name to it”.  At this point I enter into a yogic trance and stare at the mystery for a while convinced the answer will present itself.  Before I know it my mind has drifted off, mental shopping lists are written, lotto wins have been spent, and David Essex (circa 1975) has emerged Darcy-esque from a lake.  With a jolt I realise this isn’t getting the job done, so try again.  Often I convince myself that the name is on the tip of my tongue.  But its not.  Haven’t got a clue.  So I implement tried and tested scientific procedures.  Yes, I guess.  Or at least make an educated approximation/vague attempt.  This might be just the word “daisy” or “umbellifer” or perhaps “leaf”.  I might even pretend I didn’t see the offending picture and file it away unsullied by name or context.  Then I move onto the next one.  I can’t imagine why this is taking such a long time ….

Here is a rather splendid tangle of scrambling clematis and phlox.  I’m not sure what the full name of either is, in this case I don’t think it matters.  Just enjoy.

Hanker

My hanker for gardening has increased tenfold, I am beginning to pace the floor.  The seed delivery salved the itch a little, but I need more exercise and fresh air and company to be happy.  The weather has been so dreadful that I haven’t even been able to get outside into our own desolate plot.  On one hand this pleases me as I would have lost many days work if I hadn’t been on my sabbatical, justifying my decision.  On the other hand the relentless gloom is wearing.  So I have been feeling a little low.  There has been sighing.

Then singing.  On the right day.  It was wonderful.  And non-fattening.

At the end of next week I shall be re-released into the horticultural world and I am champing at the bit.  Watch out, I’m on my way and I’m going to be annoyingly enthusiastic!

Wrong and Right

Today I went to Nancy Nightingale’s for a singing lesson.  Unfortunately I am booked in for tomorrow.  The wrong day.  Embarrassing.  It has happened before.

So without pause, ostensibly to divert attention away from my stupidity and inability to read a diary, I am going to share a picture of Cephalaria gigantea.  Definitely one hundred percent right.

Seed glorious seed

For those of you not in the know, the Hardy Plant Society is an organisation that promotes and protects hardy plants.  Perhaps you had worked that much out.  Each year a selection of its generous and knowledgeable members donate seed which is distributed amongst us locusts.  After hearing that our Six on Saturday leader The Propagator received his package early yesterday morning, I set up camp by the front door with a thermos of piña colada and a family sized bar of Kendal mint cake.  Luckily, as my emergency rations didn’t last long, I only had minutes to wait until my delivery arrived.  And here they are, my little nuggets of potential.  Some I had to look up again as I had forgotten what they were.  Each and every one a good choice.

 

Six on Saturday – Keeping Focused

It is incredible that I can manage to write anything at the moment.  The reason for my distraction is that seed from the Hardy Plant Society has arrived and I am very excited.   Possibly unnaturally so.  More of that tomorrow, today I must try to stay focused because it is of course Six on Saturday.   I missed last week and I am afraid I will be named and shamed or even worse, no one notices, if I don’t contribute.  For those of you who wish to join this not-so-secret sect pop over to the blog of our guru The Propagator and you will find out all about it.  Don’t send him any money though, he has all mine already.

Firstly we have some hydrangea flowers, well the battered husks anyway.  There are a few remnants left and I have begun thinking about pruning them.  Don’t cry out in fear my friends, the “thinking” is only stage one, the “actually doing” could be a few weeks down the line, by then hopefully the cold winds will have abated and the buds will be safe.

crocosmia

Next is a crocosmia shoot.  Anyone who has been listening will know that I am often cursing this sneaky cormous individual.  Many hours have been spent digging up montbretia, only for them to return the next year, if not sooner.  This one is however a little different.  It is Crocosmia ‘Coleton Fishacre’, syn. C. ‘Gerbe d’Or’, a wonderful (and well behaved) creature.  Rich olive green leaves set off the warmest of apricot flowers perfectly.  A gift from the lovely Hero, I am very happy to grow it again.

bug

Number three is a new garden resident, he is standing guard at the base of a Japanese acer, hopefully scaring away predators.

rosemary

Now onto Rosmarinus officinalis, just a bog standard Rosemary.  But it is very special to us.  Our beautiful Charlie cat, who features in the header of this blog, is buried beneath it.  She loved to sit underneath the large, gnarled and woody, specimen we have in the garden.  I often wondered if the fragrant oils soothed her as she slept, as now her place is taken by other visiting felines.  Charlie was left behind when our neighbours moved house and we took her in.  Before coming to us she lived outside for years, ever since they bored of her and got a puppy instead and the two could not live in tandem.  I like to think her final years with us were happy.  She soon became accustomed to laps and fires and cuddles and sofas.  Bless her.

Pelargonium cordifolium

Outside the back door I have a huddle of plants, that in a perfect world would be in a greenhouse, but as we all know it is far from that.  So I have herded them together for warmth.  One of these is Pelargonium cordifolium var. rubrocinctum (apologies).  It is statuesque, standing proudly in spite of its circumstances, and so far has not faltered in the winter weather.

horseshoe

Finally a horseshoe.  We bought this, and a couple of others, from a cardboard box of assorted sizes at National Trust property Arlington Court.  Here they have an amazing carriage collection and some magnificent horses to pull them.  Some say the shoes should be displayed prongs up in order to catch the luck, some say the prongs should be pointing downward to stop luck escaping.  Who knows?  Perhaps I will try turning them around and wait for the lottery win.  Or perhaps this life I have is considered lucky enough to be counted as lucky and I will be doomed if I move them.  I think I will leave well alone.

That, is that, my Six on Saturday.  Thanks Mr P.  Hopefully, if the horseshoes allow, I will be back same time next week.  If not, the puzzle may well have been solved.