Cope

Prunus × incam 'Okamé'

Prunus × incam ‘Okamé’ is just a babe, no more than 30cm tall, but that hasn’t stopped it flowering prolifically.  It was enjoying the spring sunshine today as much as I was, and that was a great deal.  After last night’s riotous, window-shaking, sleep-depriving storm it was all the more appreciated.  It seems that calm can follow as well as lead. This flowering cherry will reach 4m-8m in height given ideal conditions. The thought of a tree that size, fully clad in these pretty pink blooms is almost too much to cope with.  But I will be brave.  I will manage.

Some Daffs for St David

Daffodils

I would like to wish a happy St David’s Day to you lot across the water.  Yes, you know who I mean. The Welsh from Wales.  On a clear day I can see your shores from my window; the mystical islands of Worms Head, the fabled Pembrokeshire coast and its equally gorgeous sister, the Gower peninsula. Misty lands that come and go with the weather.  Sometimes I wonder who is looking back at me.  Then I pull the curtains.

Efallai y bydd eich cennin Pedr yn sefyll tal a bod eich cennin byth yn rhydu. Hapus Dydd Gŵyl Dewi!*

* If it is nonsense I blame Google translate!

Rubble

img_7406

It wasn’t anything like this today.  In fact it was pretty much as opposite as you could get.  The day was suffering from multiple personality disorder.  Torrential rain, hail and wind, with the odd teasing glimmer of sun and rainbow.

Today was due to be my first visit to a new client, a job I am looking forward to very much. Because of the unfortunate weather, I was forced to cancel our appointment.  This client is not altogether a stranger.  Those of you who have been paying attention will remember that a few months ago I started having singing lessons.  Ever the opportunist, this new client is my singing teacher.  Although I restrained myself for a while, eventually I couldn’t resist saying, in the nicest possible way, “you really have got to sort your garden out”.  Luckily she agreed.  We will be beginning in the front garden, “garden” however is an exaggeration. This space is overlooked by the kitchen-dinning area where the family spend much of their time.  It is also gazed upon by us warblers, through the large expanse of window which forms almost one wall of her music room. At present this outdoor space is comprised of a newly turfed area edged by a paving path on one side and a white wall on the other.  Full stop.  That is it.  Not one plant, and I am not counting the scrappy, uneven grass. The style of the rear garden is largely similar.

My singing teacher is wonderful.  Her home is full of colour and character, just like her, so why should her garden be so deathly dull?  The answer is, she doesn’t know what to do, she is scared of failure and she thinks it is beyond her.  This confident and talented woman says things like “but I will kill them”.  I suppose it is the equivalent of me saying “I won’t be able to sing that” or “reach that note”.  My job will be to convince her that not only can she make her own very personal garden, but enjoy creating and maintaining it.

So we are planning a garden full of colour; fuchsia pinks, sunshine yellows, cherry reds, big bright and beautiful!  We are going to grow cerise sweet peas, burnt orange escholtzia and golden marigolds from seed.  There will be cactus dahlias, Penstemon ‘Garnet’, beefy blood red opium poppies and Rudbeckia ‘Goldstrum’.  The walls will be painted, the plants will spill and clash and anarchy will reign.

But first it has has to stop raining and then we have to get all that builder’s rubble out of the soil, so as they say, watch this space …..

 

Worry

Geranium palmatum

This little chap made me very happy on Monday, not quite as happy as the day old lamb, but it was close.  However, no sooner had Happiness landed, it was unceremoniously shoved out of the way by that old bully Worry.

This muddy, singularly unimpressive plantlet is a self-seeded Geranium palmatum.  The mother is close by and flowered halfheartedly last year, we are hoping for a better effort this season. The discovery of a seedling, nestled amongst a tangle of weeds, made me shout out and manically gesture towards.  I believe this was slightly disturbing for those who had the misfortune to witnessed it.  “Quick” I cried “let us rescue this babe from such bad company, release it from the motley crew which is threatening to strangle it”. So pronto(ish) I weeded around it, fed and mulched the area, all the while purring encouragement and platitudes.

Then it began, the worries started to wheedle their way in.  Is it lonely now, sat there on its own-some, in the cold earth, exposed to the elements with no creeping buttercup to snuggle up to? Probably. Since the couch grass is not longer there to mask its presence, is there a giant illuminated arrow floating above it, pin-pointing it to every geranium loving predator in the neighbourhood?  Possibly.  Have I killed this innocent with kindness?  I hope not.  I meant well.

Woodwardia radicans – The European Chain Fern

Woodwardia radicans

I spent the day safely cocooned at home, pottering, making soup, enjoying my temporary captivity. Occasionally I looked out into the gloom, watching the rain sheet sideways, listening to the ever increasing howl of the wind. On days such as these I think of those outside, unprotected from the elements; the homeless, the rescue services, the crazy gardeners who don’t know when to give up and go home. Then I usually sigh, mentally wish them well and count my blessings. And it is due to get worse. Another storm is approaching. Storm Doris, not a terribly scary title, I feel they could have done much better. Daphne perhaps or Desdemona or even Doreen. Whatever her name, I hope she decides to take it easy on us.

This Woodwardia radicans won’t be complaining about the constant mist we have experienced over the last few days, it will be well and truly revelling in it.

Stay safe everyone.