My friend the Frustrated Gardener recently extolled the virtues of the blue hydrangea in his post True Blue. I am totally with him on this one, they are an amazing spectacle at this time of year, to be honest I agree with him on most things. But looking out off of my window this afternoon I spied my ruddy hydrangea, basking in the late sunshine, sadly neglected, planted by others, name unknown, and I thought, “do you know what? blue is not the only colour.
Caught it! Bit blurry but I was balancing on a steep back at the time. Lovely Tibouchina urvilleana!
Just because.
It appears that I am the owner of a magic coat. The moment you put it on it stops raining, as soon as you take it off and leave it a leg stretch away, the downpour resumes. Amazing. I would prefer it had some other magical property, maybe invisibility, psychic powers or perhaps the ability to conjure bars of dark chocolate with salted caramel into my pocket on my command. As it was, I spent a rather sweaty day trying to keep the weather clement.
I kept my coat on long enough to capture this Saliva involucrata and an unnamed day lily making sweet music in the sunshine. Certainly a very beautiful tune.
“You need to get some string to tie up the gladdies before they topple over.” These were my parting words to Nancy Nightingale last week.
Arriving for my singing lesson today, I could help but smile when I saw her alternative. That’s my gal.
We are really going to have to think of another simile. I am racking my brain at this very moment. But I can’t. So it you will have to bear with me. Today was a roller-coaster of a day. Fortunately each low had a high that exceeded it.
It started with taking my car to the scrap merchant. It had failed its MOT, D minus, and its time had come to go to the great autobahn in the sky. After much calculating I was given the princely sum of £32 in exchange for a car that is perfectly fine except for the fact the structure is rusting away. Passing the condemned onto a perky chap with sleeve tattoos and extensive piercings he asked if she was still running. “Yes” I replied “Great” he smiled “we need one, we crushed the rest”. A little puzzled I asked why he needed a running model. “For the fire brigade, they need a vehicle for their training and exhibitions.”. This made me very happy. Good out of bad.
Then onto Nancy Nightingale. By this time I was running late. But if I pressed on all would be fine. Then I hit a “Road Closed” sign and one of North Devon’s infamous redirected traffic routes. I arrived disgruntled and with crossed legs. Soon all was calm again, the toilet door had been left ajar for easy access, my coffee was made, the garden was looking lovely and a present was waiting for me. “Trespassers Will be Composted” What a fine idea!
After some leisurely gardening we belted out some rock ballads and soul classics. My heart was lifted.
This high was followed by grid lock and dodgy reversing on the return journey of the inappropriate diversion route. Still, no one hit anyone, which is always a good thing. Then on to the garage to pump up my tyres in anticipation of our motorway journey tomorrow. Here I met a wonderful young man who not only moved my car for me when I got into a bit of a pickle, proceeded to pump up my tyres for me, for no reason other than kindness.
Then more gardening, a little shopping, and a smidgen of relaxing.
Not a bad day after all. It could have been a whole lot worse.
To win a competition is great. To win a competition that you didn’t even enter is amazing.
A few months ago I received an email from the National Dahlia Collection to say that I had won a prize. Everyone who subscribed to their newsletter was automatically entered and I was one of the lucky ones.
The only other thing I have won of merit is a rugby player. The college team auctioned themselves off to raise money for an upcoming tour. As bad luck would have it, the chap I won was also a friend’s boyfriend. She gave me a “look”. I knew just what that meant. He took me for a meal and I returned him, before the witching hour and in good working order.
It seems that yet again I have gone off on a tandem. Back to the story.
My prize was to name a dahlia. At first I thought it was a hoax. Hilarious. Then gradually, as messages passed back and forth, I began to believe it was true. They showed me a photo and left me to it. A deep rich pink, with a waterlily form, it looked a real beauty. What a treat, what a responsibility! I waited for inspiration. It arrived. I would called it Peggy’s Pearler. After my Mum and also in memory of my Dad. On occasion, if she got something mixed up or confused, my Dad would say “another one of Peggy’s Pearlers”. Said with a twinkle and with fun and affection. And they would both laugh.
Unfortunately, somewhere in the machine, the name was altered slightly so when I received the certificate from the RHS it read Peggy Pearlers. No matter. It still counts. Unfortunately there is no photo on the website yet, but here is a link to the Peggy’s Pearler (which I shall continue to call it). My picture of a not-quite-fully-out bloom will have to suffice.
As well as the honour of naming the dahlia, they sent me three rooted cuttings. These I have been growing on, fending off the molluscs and generally cossetting, much to the chagrin of adjacent plants. One of these will be heading to Wales this weekend, to meet its namesake.
Happy birthday to my best mum, from your best daughter. x
We had a wonderful day at RHS Rosemoor, me and the gals. A full and “no holds barred” report will follow in due course. Unless the extortion money is received.
In the meantime here is another Cunning Combo for your delight – the elegant partnership of Veronicastrum virginicum and Nicotiana mutabilis, complimenting in colour and contrasting in form. The total exceeding the sum of the whole. And blue sky. Just what we want.
I have been waiting patiently, well OK not that patiently, for the Tibouchina urvilleana at Max’s to flower. One bud was showing a little colour, it wouldn’t be long before I could bask in its deep indigo light. But it was not to be. I missed again. Never mind, there are other buds coming, a couple more chances to appreciate the silky violet blooms of the glory bush. Unless of course ….. surely that couldn’t happen….. not again…..could it?
Generally, I am a “cup half full” kind of person. Just like this zantedeschia.
Off The Edge Gardening