Underwhelmed

greenfly

My dear mama always says of me “you do one job and make half a dozen others”.   You might think this a little harsh, but it is generally true.

Last week I noticed an uninvited colony of greenfly on one of our roses.  You may think this means that we have many specimens, we have two.  Fifty per cent aphid rate.  I halfheartedly squished a few, but realising the extent of the infestation, and having a gap in my oh so busy itinerary, I decided to make a garlic spray to zap the little blighters.  So I crushed some cloves in a Kilner jar, poured over boiling water and set it aside to seep.

After a pint of piña colada and a snooze in the hammock I returned to examine my alchemy.  How bizarre, it seems to have turned blue!  Well that is a turn up for the books.

Just as any Totally Modern Minnie would do, I checked out this strange phenomenon in the well thumbed pages of the Encyclopedia Google.   And what did I discover?  The sulphur in the garlic reacts with copper in the water, creating a greenish blue hue.  Wonderful, except …… do we really want copper in our drinking water?

So I messaged our water company and spoke to a very nice Water Quality Scientist called Adam. His customer relation skills were outstanding.  His powers of humouring exemplary.  No giggling when I told him about the aphids, no chortling at the garlic solution, no guffawing when I mentioned “blue”.  I thought it best to keep the piña colada to myself.   He admitted it was the first time he had had a call like this, but said that on occasion people call to tell of water running blue from the taps.  I felt like a lightweight.  Apparently copper can be present in relatively large quantities in our domestic supplies without ill effect.   My mind was set to rest.

As a reward for his kindness, I left him with a top tip, telling him how to treat his greenfly problem if ever he should get one.  He did his best, but still managed to sound distinctly underwhelmed.  It was all I had to give.

 

Guest Star

Bluebells and Pip

For those of you bored by yet more bluebells, to liven things up a little, I have invited a guest star to the tableau.

Drum roll please …..

At great personal expense (two apples) and especially for your delectation, here is the lovely Pip to further enhance the already splendid scene.  He is looking very fetching in a matching 80% dark chocolate brown mane, tail and coat set.

I hope you all agree, it is a very pleasing combination.

Nameless

Tulip and bee

For various reasons, many of which may appear to be a product of my fertile imagination but are in fact quite true, I haven’t tended Mr and Mrs Bun’s garden for a month.

The upshot of this was that my visit today was full of discovery.  Some things have bloomed and bolted. Much has grown, as is only right at this time of year, and a few have succumbed and gone to the great compost heap in the sky (well bottom of the garden actually).  The lilac was in full regalia, the forget-me-nots overstretched, the wildflower meadow was showing great promise and the foxglove/camassia/vinca combo an accidental triumph.  The blackbirds chicks have fledged the nest and fearlessly accompanied us around the garden.  When they weren’t rustling in the vegetation they were nagging their parents for food.

But most arresting of all were these tulips, their name lost in the depths of the recycle bin.  I don’t care what the stunners are called, and nor does the ecstatic bumblebee filling his tank at the pollen station.  We both agreed, these peaches and cream peony flowered blooms made our day. Well I’m sure that is what the bee would have told me if he wasn’t so engrossed in his food finding business.  Just lovely.

Wonder Woman

Solomon's Seal

An interesting start to my day.

I was driving along in my automobile, my baby beside me at the wheel.  That last bit isn’t true.  I was all by myself, heartily accompanying “Daniel O’Donnell Sings Iron Maiden”. Mind you, one is never alone with the big O’D.  If my memory serves me correctly, at the time he was doing a fine job of a Gaelic version of The Number of the Beast.

But I digress, let’s get back to the tale in hand.

I was on my way to the Mantle Estate, enjoying the scenery and wishing I could whistle, when I spotted a fat little lamb jammed between a gorse bush and the fence.  So I did what any good citizen would do, no not film it and put it on social media, I attempted to help the innocent chap.  I screeched to a halt (after having a bit of a ponder and checking my mirrors beforehand), leapt out of my car like a springbok, did a judo roll whilst changing into my Wonder Woman outfit (which has been languishing in my car boot for such an occasion), arriving at the poor distressed mite with a “ta da!”.  He was so overcome with emotion all he could say was baaaaaaaaaa.

Releasing Larry was the easy bit.  This involved a technique similar to the one implemented when I got caught in the turnstiles after the 2012 Kemacott United v Mortehoe Town derby.  A very disturbing incident, I still have dreadful nightmares.  After extensive research this accident was thought to be caused by one too many pasty sandwiches.  As I had no goose fat on me, a rooky mistake I know, we had to forgo that stage.  Still it worked.  He was liberated from his thorny prison.

Then the trouble began.  He did not want to return to whence he had come.  If you were being generous you would say his mother was nonplussed, I would say she was verging on the disinterested.  So I chased, I cajoled.  I strongly suggested the enormous gap below the gate as an entry solution whilst he preferred to stick his head through the wire, getting stuck again.  I even shoved a little.

At this critical point a hero arrived to help me in my endeavour.  That is if an old men in woolly hats that look at you in a skewy way are your idea of a superhero.  Woolly Hat Man, it has a certain ring to it.  After the obligatory “where you live then?” he picked the little blighter up and chucked him, unceremoniously, over the fence.

Right, then, best be off.

We may now be engaged to be married.

You can all be bridesmaids.

A Walk in the Woods

Bluebell wood

A few months ago I was dismayed to hear someone on the television, allegedly a wildlife expert, say “I hate grey squirrels” and then proceed to character assassinate this creature who never asked to be introduced to this country and is just trying its best to survive like the rest of us.  It is not evil.  The problem is that it is more adept at living, reproducing and therefore colonising this land than our native Red Squirrel.  Unfortunately.  It may be an anathema to our fauna, and often to gardeners, but to “hate” is emotive and counter-productive.  This is especially true when espoused by someone who should know better and has a fair amount of influence.

I spent a large enough proportion of today digging Spanish bluebells out of Max’s garden.  Much has been written about this interloper, often snarling, bitter texts.  There have been those who defend this Iberian import, but mainly the reviews are toxic.  Unfair perhaps.  True they are thuggish compared to our natives and hybridise at the drop of a hat, a very real threat.  But I don’t hate them, even though I have ached my back removing them today.  They are just doing what they are programmed to do.  Yet again another problem caused by the “oh so clever” humans.

After work, actually a little before “after work”, Max’s Dad asked if I would like to go for a walk in the woods.  How could I refuse?  So we did.  As you do.  And I am very glad I did.  It reminded me how much I love this habitat.  We need to protect it.

Sumptuous carpets of bluebells:

bluebells

Interspersed with orchids:

orchid

And stitchwort:

stitchwort

And nature’s sculpture:

It’s a hard life, but someone’s got to do it.

Gone Fishing

Lady Mantle went fishing today.  More accurately she went skimming.  The pond has become a little green in recent weeks, caused by a film of dastardly duckweed, not an ideal look for a healthy water feature. So Her Ladyship put on her wellies (for aesthetic affect only, she didn’t actually enter the water, although it was touch and go on occasion, and if she had gone in the wellies wouldn’t have helped much, but I did have my camera primed just in case, you really can’t miss these opportunities, and no I wasn’t wishing, well OK maybe a little) armed herself with her trusty fishing net and set to work.

Each net was examined for creatures which had been inadvertently transported from the depths to the light of day and these were quickly returned.  LM left piles of aquatic vegetation poolside, giving easy access for the critters that were missed to return back to their preferred habitat.   Here are a few that had a more exciting day than they perhaps were planning on.

A zillion tadpoles:

tadpoles

A dragonfly nymph:

dragonfly nymph

A shiny water beetle (and friend):

Three newts, or perhaps one newt desperate for attention:

newt

And most exciting of all, a fine example of the very rare Exmoor Frogus plasticus:

Keep this last one to yourself, we don’t want to cause a commotion.

 

 

Kilver Court Garden, Somerset

 

Kilver Court

I tend to divide my friends up into categories.  As well as divisions of personality such as “sophisticated” (not many of these), “artistic” (quite a few), “dangerous” (enough) and “grown ups” (a couple), there are tribe types such as “sporting”, “virtual” “work”, “school” and of course “horticultural”. Sometimes they stray into more than one department, sometimes they are unclassifiable, occasionally we have known each other for so long I can’t quite remember how or why.   My friends Venn diagram is extremely complicated.

Last weekend I visited a very good buddy who now lives Somerset.  We have known each other for many years and she has recently placed one foot, or perhaps just a toe, from the “dangerous sporting” class into the “dangerous horticultural” one.  This meant that I wasn’t as surprised as I might have been a year ago when she suggested we visit Kilver Court garden, of which I had heard but never visited.  When she added that there was a nursery, restaurant and, wait for it ………….. designer outlet shopping, I was in the car with my handbag on my lap.

At this point I was going to recount some of the garden’s history but as I would just be copying it from their website you can read it yourself here Kilver Gardens.  And no, this is not lazy, it is clever.

Anyway I wasn’t disappointed.  It is a glorious garden.  When we entered through a sturdy oaken door, with intricate ironmongery, it hinted of the charm that was set to come.

So here a few photos, and few words but not many, to celebrate our visit.

Tulips Kilver Court

Everywhere there were large tubs of tulips in whack-you-straight-in-the-gob colours, here they enlivened the edge of the first millpond.

Kilver Court - lake

The garden is enhanced rather than dominated by the 19th century Charlton Viaduct.

Kilver Court - duck house

An adorable duck, or perhaps coot, house in the middle of the lake.  They used to have flamingos here, which necessitated slightly larger accommodation.

Kilver Court - Rockery

The rockery was outstanding and I surprised myself in how much I loved it.  Those who are young enough to carry it off without sounding daft might say it had a “retro” feel, with its close clipped conifers and alpine planting.  As I am not one of those people, I won’t.  This part of the garden was constructed in the 1950’s when this style was outrageously modern.  I think it’s time might have come again.  For me anyway and, as everyone knows, I have my finger on the horticultural pulse. You in the cheap seats, stop sniggering!

Kilver Court - Anemone

A single red anemone stood proud at the edge of the stream.

The parterre had some lovely planting combinations including these deep mauve lily tulips and sky blue early geraniums.  No picture of the actual parterre, must have been chatting.

Poncirus trifoliata

Lastly there was a curious shrub, with a serious personality clash, that a kind soul on Twitter identified for me.  It is a Poncirus trifoliata, or Citrus trifoliata, or the Japanese Bitter Orange.  Take your pick.  It has delightful cup-shaped white flowers (good news) and long vicious curved spines (not so good).

Kilver Court is not a large garden, nor does it need to be.   At present they are in the process of creating new areas of planting, vast mixed borders which I am sure will be stunning once finished. Unfortunately the organic vegetable garden was closed the day we visited.  So that is two good reasons to return another day.  And they have pink wheelbarrows, I have bagsied already.  Oh yes, and there is the shopping, but that is another story.