Six on Saturday – Hope

Two weeks SoSing in a row, there must be something afoot. I can’t imagine what has influenced my buoyant mood. Something must have changed. The balance of good and evil may have been addressed. Perhaps I have over-stated it, too Marvel superhero, or embarrassingly naive, the next stop Regretsville. Perhaps. It will of course depend on deeds not words, as the man himself said, and I have hope, which is a precious commodity in these troubled times. The moment is precious, let us bask in it. My job is to keep the flowers blooming. That is hard enough as it is. If you would like to read more SoS’s from across the known universe, and find out what this is all about, check out our leader, Jim at Garden Ruminations, and all will be revealed.

First we have a most special red rose, Fragrant Cloud. This is a favourite of both OH and myself. Yes, fortunately, although we disagree about a lot, we agree about the important things. Classic and highly scented, a joy indeed.

I have two stands of this argyranthemum in the garden, both have done far too well and should be dug up, divided and repositioned. I said exactly the same thing last year. Know the slothful enemy.

My OH is a great fan of teasels. We brought seed with us from North Devon which in turn came from our Bristol garden. He has planted four in the garden. They have taken over, making the most of the rich clay. Is it possible to mansplain a garden? However much they have made their spiky presence felt in “Our” garden, I must concede it has given me great joy to watch the sparrows drink from the water filled leaf axils, seemingly oblivious to the spiny leaves. Hopefully, a little later in the year, we will be blessed by goldfinches. Then the teasels can go. Please.

I managed to keep three pelargonium alive this winter, more luck than judgement. This P. sidoides Magenta Form is one of the lucky trio. Thanks for hanging on in there.

Salvia microphylla ‘Trelissick’, grown from HPS seed last year, is doing well. Not my usual colour scheme, but I am definitely becoming less Ozzie and more Cartland in my old age. Send help.

Did I buy Hemerocallis ‘Yabba Dabba Doo’ for the name? You bet I did!

That is your lot. Here’s to a better world, full of love and compassion and empathy. We can only hope.

ps I still haven’t found the Fuchsia boliviana, I am suspecting it has been eaten by Rudbeckia fulgida and at some point it will spit out the label.

Eggy

One Easter, in the mists of time, my OH bought me a chocolate egg which was accompanied by a yellow egg cup emblazoned with the script “Little Princess”. It was both delicious and funny. Since then, on the majority of Saturday mornings, he makes me one boiled egg with two pieces of toast, one lightly buttered, one with a thin scrape of marmite (hush you naysayers!). It is a tradition in our house and a very good way to start the weekend.

That is until a couple of months ago when disaster struck. A stray elbow, a careless hand, a vindicative sprite, for whatever reason the precious egg cup fell to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. “Don’t worry, I can fix it” my valiant, and probably over-ambitious OH reassured me. And he did. In his way. And I love it. And it is both delicious and funny.

However, it has now transformed from a functional item to a work of art/statement of love. Which left me egg cupless – a woeful state indeed. How could I replace such a rare and precious artifact?

A great friend of mine has had a heart-breakingly sad year. She has borne her loss with courage and grace and is now living with her grief in an uneasy truce. Some days she wins, other days not. Despite all of this pain she has worked hard to help her own healing process. To live her life for both herself and her much missed husband. And, luckily for me, one of these ways is to take up pottery.

Last week we met for lunch and she presented me with two fabulous egg cups. Naturally she couldn’t make one for me and not OH! I was absolutely thrilled. They are all the more special because they are made by someone who is very dear to me. Someone who I admire and love and wish I could soothe just a little bit more. Thanks Duffs, you are a star!

Six on Saturday – Strength in Numbers

Anyone else feeling a little horticulturally overwhelmed? Well, (hoping someone said yes) so am I. The garden has switched to hyperdrive, spilling out and over in a what was charming and now is alarming way. There is a slim chance, miniscule in fact, that I may have planted too many plants in the garden. As I type, these squidged in specimens have their elbows out, vying for space, desperate for attention. I am not without guilt. Each night, lying in bed, I sit up and cry, much to the amusement of the neighbours and consternation of OH, “but what happened to the Fuchsia boliviana?!” and the like. But what hope is there for a gardener so deficient in self-control? Someone who is most positively in control is our mentor and champion SoS herder, Jim at Garden Ruminations, pop over to his site and many mysteries will be revealed. Shall we get on? I’ve got to get back into the garden and restrain the eccremocarpus.

Geranium ‘Ann Folkard’ an ideal candidate for this kind of chaotic planting. She finds her way, round and through, complimenting and enhancing without resorting to thuggery. Here she is embracing an astilbe, white cosmos and, a yet to flower, Penstemon ‘Laura Jane’

Erodium manescavii and Eschscholzia californica are getting on like a house on fire. Not strictly on the guest list, but nonetheless welcome, the self seeded Calendula ‘Westwell Hall’ has fitted in very nicely. This marigold came from North Devon, in the garden of the most wonderful Buttons. Happy days.

More ND memories, I must be feeling a little nostalgic today. This is what I call Rosa ‘Beautiful Bobby’, a cutting from The Buns garden. It has been poorly trained to the fence so is finding it’s own support from the crimson leaved acer.

The Polemonium ‘Purple Rain’ has done well this year, flowering once very early and having another try again. The persistent Diascia personata, after a cruel chop, is returning after giving our Gertie a chance to shine. The battle lines continue to ebb and flow, whether or not I have any influence is debateable.

This year I have not embraced the bedding ethos. No reason, I do like a few pelargoniums and marigolds about the place, it just didn’t happen. I’m not sure you could really call these bedding plants but the Isotoma axillaris and Nemesia ‘Lady Lisa’ bought to fill a pot seem to be mingling nicely.

Some plants, however, stand alone quite happily, aloof and self-sufficient. Hemerocallis ‘Nona’s Garnet’ is one such independent soul, it is more than enough on its own, although I am sure it will play nicely with those threatening to intrude. This beauty was purchased, with one or two of its friends, from the wonderful Pollie’s Daylilies . As I have said before, visit her website at your peril.

There you have it, Six on Saturday, the end of June and several more growing months ahead. The battle continues!

Six on Saturday – Word Cloud

If you created a word cloud of my Six on Saturday blogs I am guessing that “rain”, “mizzle” and “misery” would be the dominant components and “sunshine” “gentle breezes” and “contentment” would languish in faint type in a corner. This week’s buzz words would be “torrential”, “sweltering” and “confused”. Monday I was decked out in souwester and drizabone, by Thursday I was in bermuda shorts and a crop top. Quite how a gal is meant to plan her wardrobe is a mystery. I’m sure that Jim, our Memester, has his gardening outfits down to a tee.

The garden was a little battered earlier in the week, but has bounced back. The water butts are full and most plants are doing what I was hoping they would. So let us shake a leg, there are pots to potted and fresh seed to be sown.

It is once again Rhodohypoxis bauri or similar time. Labels lost in the mists of time. An approximate description is the best you will get. Nice though.

Every single dahlia that I left in the ground over winter has survived. The two I dug up and put into the greenhouse rotted and died. A lesson. This is Dahlia Small Single Orange. I will have to have a word with marketing.

Of course it was a total error of judgement to buy an Enkianthus campanulatus when you have a miniscule garden. I obviously have horti-dismorphia.

The flower of Moraea huttonii, the elegant Hutton’s Cape Tulip, was a pleasant surprise. I knew it was there, obviously, it had just slipped my mind for a moment. Apparently these are lovers of summer rainfall and streamside conditions. Welcome to South Wales, my lovely!

I am always pleased when a plant returns, especially a bulb. So many seem to get forked and planted over in my enthusiasm. These Allium aflatunense ‘Purple Sensation’, along with a few friends, have not disappointed. Their ragged post-blooming foliage will be hidden soon enough by their tardy border compadres.

I have a massive soft spot for all thing Nederland and this Dutch iris is no exception. The flowering of Iris hollandica ‘Carmen’ coincided with torrential rain and, whilst others fell, these lucky ones were propped up by the redundant (as yet) obelisk (donated by my sponsor The Prof).

Finally, a quick word about my (not so) sneaky header shot this week. I live on a modern housing estate, rife with plastic grass and horti-apathy. This area of common land is just outside my front door, yet to be mown. It would be naive to believe those in charge of maintenance are embracing No Mow May, but I live in hope. However, the peasants are revolting. The dreadful mess, the unsightly chaos, the lack of order is an anathema to some. But I, along with bee and bird, am celebrating the wonder of it all. I know it won’t last, but yet again I strive to live in the moment.

Six on Saturday – Guano

Heat Wave! Well, it hasn’t rained for almost a week, which amounts to the same thing in this neck of the wood. Do not fear, rain is forecast once again for next week so I will bask in all its waterproof-free glory whilst it lasts. I will live, defiantly, in the moment.

May is possibly my favourite month, it is the anything is possible, all mistakes have been forgotten, I’m sure it is meant to look like that, pre-reality check month. A torrent of positivity and, to add to the joy, now we have sunshine. Fabulous. I think we had better get Six on Saturdaying, there is no time to waste. I’m certain our leader, the indomitable Jim at Garden Ruminations isn’t hanging about, tempus fugit, hay must be made!

Shall we start with a bang? This little evergreen azalea, unnamed and brazen, is a pocket rocket at the moment.

Last week I popped into a local nursery that specialises in bedding. I was passing quite close by and there would be no harm in doing a recce. Just for a look, you understand. I came away with two lemon verbena plants and this Bergenia ciliata ‘Dumbo’ that I rescued from the bargain bench. Lemon drops and a baby elephant, irresistible.

A self-seeded, possibly bird planted, Welsh poppy unfurls its flowers with all the elegance of a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. Gosh, that was a bit poetic, I think the sun must be getting to me!

The only candelabra primula to make an effort this year is this white, yellow-eyed, beauty.

Cercis canadensis ‘Forest Pansy’ is slow to leaf but well worth waiting for. This small tree has done so much better than the specimen we left behind in North Devon, it must be enjoying the clay soil and the (almost) incessant rain. This living in the moment is trickier than it sounds.

Underneath the pear tree is now officially known as the Guano Bed. It is here that the bird feeders hang, the sparrows squabble, the starlings bicker and our other avian visitors try to avoid the chaos. And it is here that the birds poop, covering all vegetation with a splattering of guano. Hidden, under protective foliage, are the iridescent pearls of Solomon’s Seal flowers.

Another SoS completed, it is getting much easier as the garden wakes. I hope, wherever you are in the world, you are managing to live in a perfect moment. I’m trying.

Six on Saturday – Precipice

This week presented both challenges and achievements. I had a short stint in the doldrums which has now been replaced by my usual “annoyingly positive”. The sun shone and the hail hailed. Jumpers were on, jumpers were off. Work has been great. Things are eventually moving in a happy direction, but sadly Welsh Ann had to be cancelled due to more car problems. Cars; my nemesis, or one of them anyway.

Less rambling, more Six on Saturday! Check out Jim to find others sharing their gardens and thoughts.

The unforgotten tulips are still cocking a snook at my pot emptying abilities. No complaints here, it is an added bonus.

Can we better early season acer foliage? Unlikely.

Anemone nemorosa ‘Robinsonia’ is not flowering well this year, but enough to remind me just why I love it.

The hellebores have had a splendid season. Not only floriferous but long lived. We are standing on the precipice and it feels good.

Spuds! The annual totally uncompetitive, just for fun, to the death, spud growing competition has commence Chez Nous. This year the variety is Pink Fir Apple. May the best person win, who is called Gill.

Finally, the most popular and most worthy, Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’. It symbolises a line crossed and I am very happy for the fact.

I’ve checked and recounted and there are six photos and it is Saturday. Job done!

Six on Saturday – Stormy

The prospect of Storm Kathleen hovers. She is the 11th named storm of the year and will undoubtedly bringing mayhem and destruction in her skirt tails. Which is ample excuse to have taken photos on Friday when the weather, though gusty and showery, was a little more well mannered. Looking out of the office window this morning, there is no sign of chaos or even a breath of wind, perhaps this is the proverbial “calm before the storm”. Perhaps she changed her mind, oh fickle storm! If you wish to get weather reports from across the globe, and the odd plant or six, pop over to Grand Master Sos, it will be an education. Shall we begin?

First we have Impatiens omeiana, looking it’s early season best, reveling in the persistent rain. It should have been moved, I don’t like it where it is because the leaf is too similar the rhody next to it. But wasn’t because I didn’t do it. Mañana.

It is mushroom compost time of year again. Welsh John gets a couple of pallets and myself and Welsh Ann have 10 bags each. It is delicious. You know if you know.

Erythronium californicum ‘White Beauty’ – not quite white but definitely a beauty.

We have a pair of wood pigeons who visit the garden, they are called Mr and Mrs Einstein. They potter about looking a bit vacant, eating fallen seed from the feeders. It seems that fresh hosta is rather tempting.

I was going to call this blog Bring Out Your Dead but thought better of it. Space in the greenhouse is becoming sparce and these pelargoniums have been ejected due to not making an effort to live.

Finally we have Ribes x gordonianum, syn R. x beatonii. More understated than Ribes sanguineum, but just as lovely.

That is all, hope the storm passes you by unharmed. Must rush, my boiled egg is ready!

Six on Saturday – Fussing

Are we there yet? Not quite. After a balmy t-shirt day yesterday, today the wind is bitter and showers are forecast. I must remind myself it is still March and be patient. Easier said than done. Still, plants continue to nudge above the surface and buds are swelling, in spite of the gardener’s fussing. And it is becoming increasingly easier to produce a Six on Saturday. Ever a sign of progress. If you would like to meet other SoSers, and indeed the Grand Vizier himself, then pop over to Jim’s and you can enjoy them at your leisure. Shall we shake a leg?

This year I didn’t buy any new tulips and last years’ withered and rotted. My lack of enthusiasm was partly due to the millions I planted in other peoples’ gardens and I am not a keen bulb planter. A few have popped up that I missed when bringing them in for storage. Here is one, name unknown, Survivor would be apt.

The Anemone blanda, have been battered and bruised but soldier on regardless. I love this little beauty.

One day a sweet little seedling, the next a rampant, plant-suffocating mass of orange and yellow. We will never be without nasturtium and I’m very pleased for it.

Omphalodes cappadocia, a wonderful name, a beautiful plant.

Finally, our mini Magnolia stellata has its first flower and I am a very proud parent. Pink tinged and perfect, it is all I had hoped it would be. On an adjacent branch, a sibling is waiting for its time to shine. Just two this year. I am hopeful for next year.

All done, who knows what is waiting in the wings for next time.

I forgot the viola! Thanks to The Prof for pointing it out. This is a viola, another self-seeder, this time in the colocasia pot in the greenhouse. Quite how I could have forgotten it, I have no idea, it is so pretty.

Now, that is definitely six! I think.

Six on Saturday – Glimpse

The incessant inertia of winter’s chilly wind and rain is eventually showing signs of let-up. In the past week there have been hints that all will be well. These might have been mere glimpses of hope that the ground will one day not be sodden, a jumper will not be needed and the bare earth will be covered. And a glimpse is all I need. Shall we get on Six on Saturdaying? If you are new to this SoS malarky, Jim at Garden Ruminations will set you right, all are welcome.

The Pyrus ‘Chanticleer’ is flowering well after its severe flat top in the autumn. On many occasions throughout the gale-full months we have said “thank goodness the tree was pruned”. It is still No. 1 hangout venue for the sparrows, great and blue tits and starlings. Sometimes a sparrowhawk comes to play too.

This colour!

The peach is flowering very well, could this be the year we actually get a fruit? It will get my undivided attention, I will answer to its every whim and fancy, I will (as Jean-Luc Picard would say) “make it so”. There may be tears.

Muscari latifolium, possibly the best grape hyacinth in the world.

This year we seem to have lots of self-sown honesty, Lunaria annua. The first summer we were here I planted ‘Corfu Blue’, obtained from plant maestro Welsh John. I am sure these are this plant’s offspring, how much they look like their mum, I can’t tell you. Still, they are very pretty.

Finally, this Ribes sanguineum ‘King Edward VII’ was purloined at dead of night from The Prof’s garden. And yes, I was wearing a balaclava and black catsuit.

That is your lot, have a great week and look out for the glimmers.

Six on Saturday – Just Wait

Another balmy week, with mixed fortunes. Things are moving on; every day a little longer even if not a little brighter. Seeds have been sown, pots watched, germinations welcomed with joy. The garden is sodden but the greenhouse is an oasis. Still, the threat of cold lingers. That is about it. Our Six on Saturday host is Jim at Garden Ruminations, pop over to his site – just a minute, not yet! Wait until you’ve read mine. I’ll remind you again at the end, just in case you forget. Let’s proceed with sixing on Saturday …..

First we have the anemone that has been trying to flower for a few weeks. I don’t think this photo would appear in any advertising campaign. Battered and bruised but ten out of ten for effort.

The Pyrus ‘Chanticleer’ blossom buds are swelling expectantly. It won’t be too long before the local pollinators are enjoying their bounty.

As Shania sang “you’re still the one I run to”, my favourite daff, Tête-à-tête, is just beginning to flower.

I have left most of the seed heads in situ, for the wildlife to enjoy, harvesting only those I needed for myself. This dahlia is now attention seeking, having been ignored by both the gatherer and the birds, it has decided to do it for itself. Vivipary, the name for this phenomenon, is a rather wonderful word, don’t you think?

I do love a hyacinth and I do love blue. I doubly love this.

Finally Ipheion uniflorum ‘Wisley Blue’, which is looking rather pale and interesting at the moment. I don’t remember it flowering last year and it is looking rather jammed into its pot. The question is “is it flowering because it is happy, or is it flowering because it is sad?”. And “if I repot/divide up will it flower next year?”. Fraught with uncertainty.

All done, the end of another six, you are dismissed. Now pop over to Jim’s and see what the gang are up to.