Shiny

Today was the first day of my horticultural year.  Although I cannot claim to have physically skipped out of the front door this morning, I was mentally frolicking.  Shiny and eager to get going again, refreshed and rejuvenated.   And it was wonderful.  At Nancy Nightingales’ we finished digging out the new beds, extending the Loch Ness monster border to completion.  Even the rubble filled soil, which on occasion seemed more like hardcore, didn’t bring the mood down.  True there was some hail and rain, but there was also plenty of sun and singing to counteract the negatives.  Needless to say I was less shiny by the end of the day.  It didn’t seem natural to be that clean.  Normal service has been resumed.

I nearly stood on Leopard Man on the way to the stack the turf, so I relocated him to a safer spot.  Here he can guard the cyclamen and emerging bulbs.

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.