It is that time of year again. The time when, for those so inclined, pockets become full of seed of all sizes and persausions. Sometimes these collections are carefully placed in paper bags to be safely sorted and stored later, often they are wrapped in a corner of tissue only to be recovered after a 30C wash.
Not all plants donate obligingly. A few are reluctant to set much seed and any are a Godsend. With others you must be quick off the mark, the seed are catapulted about the garden before you have a chance to catch them. Some harvests are inevitable, such as the above Meconopsis napaulensis. This wonderful plant, the Satin or Nepal Poppy, is monocarpic. No, this has nothing to do with toilet cleaner. What it means is that once it flowers, it thinks, “job done” and then promptly pops its clogs. In these delightfully furry seed pods it has, very wisely, produced a zillion seed to make up for this short and glorious life.
Buddlejas often get a bad press. They seed themselves everywhere, specialising in the most inaccessible places. Perversely this is one of things I like about them. It is the “when all us stupid humans are gone it won’t take long before there will be no trace left” that makes me smile. They are also magnets for pollinators, perhaps a slightly less Armageddonesque reason to love them.
This pink beauty is doing well at The Farm. Rescued earlier in the year from a garden centre Death Row, it has made a full recovery. Last week it was full of bees and butterflies, as any buddleja worth its salt should be. Unfortunately these supping beauties were too quick for me, you will have to make do with their landing pad.
So here we are again. It seems that in the correct order of things it is indeed Saturday again. And we all know what that means. You don’t? It means Six on Saturday, the meme that The Propagator curates. This is the second week in a row. A small miracle. So let’s get going.
Firstly we have Impatiens stenantha which was a gift from the Cornish Kid. This busy lizzy relative is from the Himalayas where it grows in woodlands. Not quite the North Devon coast, but it seems to be doing well and over-winters without too much trouble.
Next we have Hibiscus trionum. Not the exotic hibiscus of the Arabian Nights and but an annual with its own charms. The seed was kindly given to me by Phlomis Phlo and I will make sure I save some from this plant for next year. Understated and elegant, a real beauty. Remind you of anyone? No I thought not.
Hibiscus trionum
I do love a scabious and this Scabiosa ‘Blue Jeans’ is getting on with life, feeding the bees, looking pretty, minding its own business. Just as well as it gets little attention from the gardener.
Scabiosa ‘Blue Jeans’
After the trug of potatoes were harvested earlier in the year I decided to sow a mix of cut-and-come again lettuce and rocket. All started positively, it germinated well, then thing went swiftly downhill. All but a few rocket plants were scoffed overnight by slugs. These survivors have now gone to flower. But I quite like them. After all a flower is a flower.
Rocket Flower
This is Fuchsia glazioviana, and no I wasn’t having a nap when I took this photo. One of its charms is the way it holds its elegant flowers out at an angle, as opposed the usual dingly dangly blooms. A low growing and, once established, trouble free plant. I am a big fan.
Fuchsia glazioviana
And lastly another fuchsia, although quite different to our friend above. Earlier this year I wrote how I had rescued the diminutive Fuchsia procumbens ‘Variegata’ from being swamped by the big guys. It is now safely ensconced in a pot and much, much happier. I do love a happy ending.
Fuchsia procumbens ‘Variegata’
So there we have it, another six for your delectation. Next week is a world away, who knows what it will bring? If we are very lucky, it will be another half dozen. Thanks Mr Prop for hosting this meme.
Anyone who has ever rooted cuttings will know how happy this has made me. But more so. And also somewhat surprised.
I was a little slow off the mark to propagate Bidens aurea ‘Hannay’s Lemon Drop’. This 1m high beauty has had a tough year. Out of necessity it had to be moved mid season. A new fence was being erected to prevent the pygmy goats getting their heads stuck through the gaps again. I am still having nightmares about the last time this happened. They might be little, but they are very strong. Wire cutters were involved. Anyway I digress. At the same time as smaller gauge fencing was installed the boundary was amended.
Moving a plant in July is not ideal treatment, but to add insult to injury its new home was to be the compacted, subsoil replete, inhospitable, Larch Tree bed. After a chop back, lots of compost and sweet words sung, it has romped away. Enough to spare a few cuttings. Which have made this amount of root in two weeks. I may have been forgiven. I am very happy.
When I interview potential clients, just before the psychometric test and directly after the assault course, I subject them to my check list of pertinent questions. Some might call it an interrogation. I have a clipboard and a steely gaze. One of these questions is “do you have any pets?”. Mr and Mrs Fish have two tabby cats, one lumbering labrador and three rescue goats. Pass with distinction.
Nancy Nightingale’s garden. From scrappy turf to crazy colour in just five months. Remind yourself of what it looked like in March in my post Start. Not bad. From a plant puncher to someone who requests photos of their garden texted to them when they are on holiday. Even better.
A couple of weeks ago myself and the OH headed south to the grand metropolis of Exeter, to partake in a little retail therapy and a big pizza. We parked the car in Barnstaple train station car park and took the Tarka Line to the big city. Crowded carriages and bawdy students withstanding, I invariably enjoy this journey. It takes just over an hour as it meanders through the delightful Devon countryside. A large proportion of this trip is joyfully a WiFi desert. Instead of spending quality time admiring kittens and googling how long it would take to pogo stick from here to the moon, it is necessary to think, look out the window, make notes, or perhaps read a paper. All things that our distant ancestors would to do as a matter of course. So I settled down to some serious contemplating.
Suddenly I was snapped out of my meditations on whether David Essex would reconsider my recent proposal. We had stopped at Copplestone station. Although only there long enough for a man with a goat to board, the platform stood out like a floriferous beacon. I just had to know “how, why and who” had worked so hard on this project.
A couple of emails later and I was visiting the wonderful women who have created this oasis. And up close it is even better. Bug hotels, herb gardens, composting areas, rainwater butts, as well as the overflowing planters and well stocked borders. It is not a surprise that they have won various awards for their work. It was an honour to meet them, and I hope my forthcoming article in Devon Life will do them proud. They certainly deserve it.
I’m not much of a joiner-in. Its not that I don’t want to, but I lack focus and commitment. However I have decided to have a go at The Propagator’s meme, Six on Saturday. For those of you who don’t know The Propagator he is best described as The Terminator in reverse. His remit is simple: post six photos of plants from your garden on a Saturday. That can’t be too arduous can it? Apart from the small fact that most of my pictures are taken in my esteemed client’s gardens and I never work at the weekend. Um. Could be tricky.
I have asked Mine Host if I can use photos from other places and he most kindly agreed. I haven’t mentioned the “not taken on a Saturday” bit yet as I don’t want to push my luck. I will promise to stick to six if that helps.
So in an uncharacteristic willingness to conform, I have on this occasion battled through the chaos and managed to find the magic six in my own garden. As I have mentioned before my own garden is full of good intentions and neglect. This was therefore not an easy task. But I was brave.
The opening photo is Scabiosa drakenbergenis, which is a cutting from a plant at Cliffe. That plant was grown from seed. It is loyal and undemanding, winding its way through and around others in the border, popping its head up in unexpected but welcome places. It comes from the Drakenberg Mountains in South Africa, reaches 1m tall and is tough and beautiful, a perfect combination.
Fuchsia hatschbachii
Next comes Fuchsia hatschbachii. This fuchsia came into my possession whilst on a trip with Torrington Tina. That is all you need to know, except no criminal activities were involved. None that might result in a prison sentence anyway. I like to think we liberated it. Compact in form, dark green foliage, masses of slim red and mauve flowers. No wonder both myself and TT had independently admired it from afar. Sometimes you do get what you wish for.
Verbena bonariensis and friend
Now for the ubiquitous Verbena bonariensis. Self-seeder and butterfly magnet extraordinaire, it was doing its job well this morning. This little chap was hanging on for dear life as the stems almost doubled in the brisk breeze. Others might have called it a raging wind. Hopefully his persistence paid off.
Rosa ‘Rhapsody in Blue’
Oh yes, the rose. The Rosa ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ that I bought earlier this year from Cannington Walled Garden has just begun its second flush of flowers. The scent is delicious, the flowers a treat. It is doing very well in its pot, has avoided any blackspot and is growing just a little too vigorously!
Dahlia australis-ish
We must have a dahlia. This is one that I grew from seed and is purported to be Dahlia australis. I have an inkling there may have been some shenanigans with an interloper. Although this has the slightly nodding habit of the species, it is supposed to be single flowered. Oh well, you win some you lose some, and it is very pretty. It shall be known as Dahlia australis-ish, which is quite hard to say after a couple of babychams (or equivalent).
Terrific Teasel
And lastly the magnificent teasel. These self seed in the front garden and are direct descendants of The Giant One. TGO lived in our garden in Bristol and hitchhiked a lift on one of plants we brought with us. For the past 10 years they have appeared without fail, to the great joy of local bees and finches. When the winds come from the North, they dance a merry dance.
So there we have it, Six on Saturday. Thank you Mr P for hosting this meme. I hope I have passed the test.
Off The Edge Gardening 