Admittedly not looking its best, if we were being kind we might say a little rough around the edges. Still we must give this tattered potentilla some credit for bothering to flower at all at this time of year. Have a rest now love, gather your strength, you will need it for the summer, I’ve got a feeling you are going to be busy.
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 …..
Forget-me-nots can be very irritating, a proper nuisance. Popping up all over the place and prompting moral dilemmas as to which to keep and which to compost. Their prolificacy ensures there is no chance whatsoever of forgetting them.
And then they flower. All is forgiven. All is forgotten.
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.
When you are knocked sideways by the wicked wind ….
which is frazzling your edges, when you are trying to do your best?
Why, a day old Devon Longwool lamb suckling its proud mother, cosy in the sheltered barn, of course!
Well it worked for me.
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.
A (very) Short Story
“What did you do today?”
“I got very wet and made mud pies.”
The End
ps I hope you appreciate my artistic photograph. Before anyone suggests it, the special effect was achieved not through wobble, rain or ineptitude. It is an expression of my miserable, soggy, heart.
This Correa schlechtendalii has flowered all winter long. Thanks for that, it has been much appreciated.
Yesterday me and my old mate Hero went to the Seed and Potato Day organised by Incredible Edible Ilfracombe. The promise of seed and potatoes is quite enough to get me out of my pyjamas on a Saturday morning. In fact I would have been happy with one or the other, but then I am easily pleased.
Before I left the house I sorted through my seed box for worthy candidates for the big swap. Luckily I had my best sharing head on, although I did have to prise a few choice ones out of my own fingers. Contributions safely stashed away, I repeated the mantra “I do not need any more seed or plants” a few times and set off, happy in the knowledge that this was imprinted into my subconscious.
My first glimpse as I walked into the hall was trug upon trug of seed potatoes, looking resplendent in their rainbow containers. The descriptions were tantalising, surely I could fit a few somewhere? In the nick of time I remembered “I do not need any more seed or plants”. So I resisted. Yes, I am strong.
Next I wandered past an ocean of boxes overflowing with every seed you ever wanted, being sold by the heritage flower and vegetable specialist Pennard Plants. It was enough to send someone with less self self-control off the rails. “I do not need any more seed or plants” I muttered, perhaps a little grumpily.
At the far end of the hall I thrilled to see that the lovely Kay and Al from Atlantic Botanic had a stall packed full of their amazing plants. Cruelty itself, such temptation. “I do not need any more seed or plants” I said. “Shut up!” I replied. So I succumbed (quelle surprise), buying both Lobelia excelsa and Lobelia polyphylla. For a friend you understand. We then undertook some surreptitious pre-swaping. I expect it is all on CCTV so I had better confess. I liberated Echium wildprettii and Armeria pseudoarmeria whilst they gave Dierama ‘Guinevere’ and Lathyrus aureus a home. Hero, from the other side of the room, gestured that she was going upstairs. Upstairs? What more?!
So I scooped up the rest of my packets and ventured to the first floor to find even more stalls including the swapping area. “I do not need any more seed or plants” I reminded myself as I quickly handed my donation over, managing to resist even a rummage to see what others had brought (quelle grande surprise). It was safest to avoid eye contact with any of those devilish packets, I didn’t want another slip up.
Then I spotted a woman busily setting up one of the stalls and thought she looked very familiar. In my shy retiring way, I accosted her, luckily she was who I though it was. It was the wonderful Jenny who runs the incredible Permaculture Garden at Tapley Park. She is a generous and passionate soul. We had a big chat and I left clutching packets of Giant Dill, purple plantain and amaranthus. Too busy catching up to remember the mantra. Never mind.
This event wasn’t just about plants and seed. The Lantern hall was brimming with information about many local schemes including Ilfracombe in Bloom, the Cairn Nature Reserve, Beach Clean and of course IEE’s very own Laston Green Community Garden. There was seed sowing and crafts for the young, music for all, and of course tea and cake.
Well done everyone who was involved, you really showcased IEI, and I’m already looking forward to next year. And I have decided upon a new mantra, “a few more seeds and plants won’t hurt anyone”.
I was gossiping so much I forgot to take photos so thank you for the loan of these lovely ones, which were taken by Tim Lamerton.
I have just noticed that I have done 666 posts. “Quick” I thought “do another”. Six hundred and sixty seven, a far nicer number.
Off The Edge Gardening