A t-shirt and refreshing (non-alcoholic) cold drink day. Felt full of vim even though I have got a code in my dose. Love my job. Love this lantana too.
Still Going Strong
Today’s gardening duties were straight out of The Book of Horticultural Cliches, chapter three Autumn. Collecting seed, moving perennials, tidying, planning for next year. Hesperantha were flowering, a cerise cyclamen popped and we swept the first of the leaves that had fallen in the recent gales.
This rich-red pelargonium however was having none of it. Summer was reigning its corner, its luminescence keeping the changing season at bay. Still going strong. Long may it continue.
Six on Saturday – The Nearlys
Saturday again and here is my contribution to The Honourable Mr P‘s Six on Saturday. There is a thread running through this post, all my featured plants have something in common. They are all Nearlys. Not quite flowering. Bearing in mind the recent weather, I can quite understand their reticence. In the hope that by next week at least some of them may be in bloom, I will keep my words sparse. It might help build the drama.
Our first plant is Salvia corrugata which is a little way off blooming, but with a sun-filled week it might be performing by next time. So it is likely to be the week after.

Next we have a white cupid’s dart, Catananche caerulea ‘Alba’. It was grown from seed so we will see if it comes true. Soon.

On to the delightfully diddy, dwarf Tibouchina urvilleana. I will try and find out its cultivar name for next time. Looking hopeful for an imminent flowering.

Now for a salvia, Salvia atrocyanea, which is not only looking like flowering for the first time this year but for the first time ever. Maybe a couple of weeks, fingers crossed.

What next, oh yes, Bulbinella frutescens, grown from seed this year. Just beginning to show off its starry yellow blooms. Perhaps by next week it will look a little more impressive.

And finally Hedychium greenii, perhaps my favourite ginger lily. That I have met so far. You never know what is around the corner waiting to tempt you. Also a little way off flowering, you may have to wait a few weeks to see this little beauty.
Which makes six (I did check). Thanks Mr P. Same time, same place?
Favourite
Perhaps my favourite watsonia seedling. Until the next one flowers, at least.
Strange Fruit
This strange fruit caught my eye today at The Farm.
On closer inspection all became clear.
In the past year I have created a new tradition. When harvesting tomatoes I throw any that have split or been munched by one of the non-human inhabitants of the greenhouse, out of the door and over the scrubby hedge towards the new orchard. Here, I imagine, the local wildlife will gorge on this sweet feast. Perhaps the ponies, wandering in their summer pasture will enjoy a few. Maybe a forest of new plants will appear next spring.
What I didn’t consider, in my greenhouse musings, was that one of my lobs would land square on the spine of a hawthorn tree forming part of the hedge. I wonder what any passing birds will think of this bizarre creation? Hopefully that it is very tasty!
When I wasn’t playing Spear the Tomato I was collecting seed. Most especially from a wonderful scabious of which I have gathered a fair amount. I featured this marvellous plant earlier in the year, here is a reminder Scabiosa ‘Plum Pudding’ . Anyone (within reason) who would like some seed, please let me know.
An Education
It was an exceptionally wildlife-centric day yesterday. And educational at that.
My day started with the sighting of a bird of prey emerging from a hedge, its feathered victim clasped in its talons. After a short rest at the side of the road, and a staring competition with me, it flew off towards the cairn, breakfast in hand. In truth it was more of a squinting contest on my part, as I was unsuccessfully trying to identify this hunter. A dramatic beginning to proceedings.
Next, whilst on our tour of the garden, we tip-toed through the windfalls scattered beneath the apple trees. As we walked a confetti of red admirals rose from the ground. They spent the rest of the day gorging on the rotting fruit, each time we past by another colourful flurry rose from the ground. We imagined they were getting drunk on the fermenting cider, but that might have been an over imagination or wishful thinking.
Later, weeding the narrow border by the house, I came across a juvenile frog, full of wriggle and, hopefully, a few juicy slugs. This bag of beans was relocated to a safe place, far from my fork.
Then Max’s dad called to me “I have found a chrysalis speckled with gold”. He was quite right and it was stunning. After much gawping and gasping, the Midas pupae was stowed away in a quiet corner to perform the miracle of metamorphosis. Later I found out that the word chrysalis comes from the Greek word chrysos meaning gold. Follow the link for more information at Ask an Entomologist I also found out that red admiral chrysalis have gold spots, this page from the University of Florida will elaborate.
In conclusion, I would sum up as follow: If this chap doesn’t hurry up, he is going to miss the party!
A Pressing Engagement
For the past couple of years The Farm have juiced their apple crop to sell to their visitors. Previously I have missed the Day of the Great Juicing but, as luck would have it, this year the event coincided with my work day. Earlier in the week Slasher had picked the fruit. This is mainly produced by two trees, with an extra few from the odd ancient lost-in-the-hedgerow. Although the new orchard is yet to produce any fruit, the trees have established well and look healthy and as happy as an apple tree can look. In a couple of years they may be contributing to the press. Not just yet though.
The men arrived in an unmarked white transit, forthwith to be known as the Juicemobile. Inside were an array of washing tubs, hoses, brushes, pulping machines and the master press. They set to work, watched by a few ducks and a nosy gardener. Before long, the rosy red apples were crushed and pressed into sweet, delicious apple juice. All in a couple of hours. Can’t be bad!
Six on Saturday – It’s a Miracle
It is Saturday. Outside it is blowing a hoolie and periodically horizontal rain joins in the fun. My ‘to do’ list makes War and Peace look like a novella. I have writing to finish and don’t need any diversions thank you very much. All great excuses not to participate in The Propagator‘s Six on Saturday. But as I can be contrary even to myself, I thought, “why not, the rest can wait, I will brave the storm”. And so I did.
First a stalwart of this little garden, Parahebe catarractae, which I believe might be now called Veronica catarractae, feel free to take your pick. It was here when we arrived and flowers almost non-stop. It was tempting to save this icy blue maiden for another day, for when I am desperate for blooms, but it deserved better than to be a fill-in. Delicate, reliable, undemanding, all worthy attributes.

Next is our Liquidambar styraciflua, the American Sweetgum, which grows in pot in the small courtyard outside the kitchen door. Totally inappropriate, but like a small child who wanted it now, I wanted it NOW. Asking an assistant at a reputable plant centre (very very very reputable) if they sold liquidambars he said he had never heard of it and did I know the Latin name. Um. We found one in the end at “I can’t remember where” and it will have to stay in its temporary accommodation until we move to a mansion in the countryside with a couple of acres of land. Um again.

Right, who’s next? Oh yes, this little argyranthemum, rescued in the spring from the bargain bin at a garden centre. It has battled, as everything out the front has, with prolonged and vicious mollusc attack. Still, it has struggled through and hopefully will last the winter. The Great Hedge of Ilfracombe next door has been cut down to a couple of feet, which has been wonderful for us and our sea views. This might however be to the detriment of some of the more vulnerable over the winter months when the wicked winds pick up. We will see.

Now we have another of my beloved ginger lilies the exotic beauty, Hedychium ‘Tara’. I think she speaks quite nicely for herself.

On to a relatively new arrival to the fold, Pelargonium ‘Calliope Hot Pink’. We are lucky hereabouts that pelargoniums often over-winter in our benign climate. Cue the worst winter in living memory. Favourites do get protected from the worst of the rain and I think this may be one of the cossetted ones. Just in case.

It wouldn’t be a Six on Saturday without a fuchsia. So to conclude, the final contestant in today’s beauty contest is the diminutive and most charming Fuchsia microphylla. When I was a child I loved visiting model villages, where everything was in miniature perfection. This fuchsia evokes the same Lilliputian love in me.
There we have it Mr P. Four weeks on the trot. It’s a miracle. It can’t possibly last.
Osteospermum ‘Double Berry White’
A day of dodging showers at The Farm. No matter, most of the time I was in easy reach of a waterproof or a shelter. There were plenty of indoor jobs to be done. In the greenhouse the tomato vines, which had been allowed to express themselves freely over the last few weeks, were trimmed and tweaked and a bucket full of fruit collected. The cyclamen that bloomed all last winter, providing a little cheer outside the office door throughout the gloomy months, were potted up and are already producing flowering stems. No thanks to the general apathy toward them by the gardener. Rooted Penstemon ‘Garnet’ were potted up. Other cuttings were checked and any suspect material removed. Belt and braces cuttings were taken of Osteospermum ‘Double Berry White’, just beginning to get into its stride after a winter knock back.
So along with a little weeding and planting out, it was a very successful day. Oh and Farmer Tony gave me a brussel sprout hat. Yes, it is true, a hat that ties beneath your chin and makes your head look like a sprout. I was overwhelmed with emotion. I may save it for Christmas.
Persicaria amplexicaulis ‘Rosea’
Do not compare persicaria with its delinquent relative, the black stetsoned Japanese Knotweed. Although often vigorous, they are not concrete breakers, and their beautiful flowers are long lived and buzzing with insect life. This Persicaria amplexicaulis ‘Rosea’ is looking spectacular at the moment, both to myself and the hover flies that are crowding its slim pearly pink blooms.
