Off The Edge Gardening

All Things Incredible

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.

Quick

I have just noticed that I have done 666 posts. “Quick” I thought “do another”. Six hundred and sixty seven, a far nicer number.

Ladies that Lunch

Today I had lunch with Lavinia. I haven’t seen her since December and we had a good old chin wag, so much to catch up on. For various reasons, which do not include her discovering the family silver in my handbag, I will no longer be gardening for L & L. This is fine, things move on, things change, that is the nature of nature. But I will miss them.

It has been a pleasure to work for such interesting, knowledgeable and downright good people. I may no longer be working in their garden, but they will still be my friends. Thank you both.

And yes, Lav, I did open the card before I got home. But you knew that anyway, didn’t you?!

Question

What is better than the first camellia flower?

A glint of cerise catches your eye in the distance. Abandoning your wheelbarrow you tentatively investigate, non negotiable curiosity drawing you towards a hint of something special. In a scrappy hedge of hardy fuchsia, self seeded ash and buddleja, tucked in behind a lodge, the discovery of an up-to-now un-found camellia. One crumpled lipstick bloom basking in the sporadic sunshine.

That.

Ancient Wisteria

It is easy to imagine that all kinds of sprites, piskies and imps live in the bole of this ancient wisteria. In fact, if you look very carefully, you might convince yourself that you have seen one. I did. There is little doubt that is all kinds of less fanciful creatures (also) live here. Hibernating ladybirds, butterflies and perhaps even bees will be tucked into nooks and crannies. Many other invertebrates will be finding protection in arms of this vast tanglement of vine and soon birds will be nesting in its arms. Once flowering, this colossus will attract a million pollinators who in turn will help to feed some of our avian friends. Its beauty will also beguile many human admirers who will stand in awe at the magnificence of its dripping blooms. Perversely, there will also be those who stride by, oblivious to the spectacle, heedless to the faeries’ faces staring out at them. We should feel sorry for these inattentive people. Perhaps I should maintain a vigil and steer any distracted folk in the right direction. I may need a regular supply of sandwiches and a flask of gin to keep my strength up. Any volunteers?

Pockets

There is something very special about a gardener’s pockets, more specifically the contents. As the week progresses, the pouches are crammed, culminating in a weekly unloading ceremony. I know I will not be alone in this custom, when the jettisoning of the weeks detritus is undertaken. The mishmash of items extracted consists of things to be thrown away when a suitable bin was found then forgotten, and items to saved or reused. The stalwarts are plant labels, string, seeds and tissues. Other favourites are teabags, pens, sweet wrappers and keys. And there is always mud.

But what of the less frequent wear, the seasonal coats, raincoat number 6 or the emergency ill fitting fleece? These are the pockets that don’t get checked on a regular basis. It is here we find the mysterious objects, the strange pods, the scribbled notes, the folds of paper containing dust. Once treasures, worth saving, now reduced to disappointment.

Yesterday I plucked a wisteria bean from Max’s tree and popped it in my pocket. Today, just as I was leaving The Bakehouse, I slipped my hand into my pocket and found it. So I donated it to Mrs Bun. Redistribution of the harvest.

These are the flower heads of Miscanthus nepalensis, the glorious bronze plumed grass. As this was also harvested yesterday I can still remember what it is. Otherwise it would be another one for the miscellaneous pile!

Foundling

Just as I had packed up for the day (the gloves were off, the weeds disposed of and I ready to load my tools and head home) a visitor arrived. The sweetest little Jack Russell you ever did see came a-calling. She had no collar, nothing to identify her, she was a foundling. So after a little rumbustious play with Max, perhaps a mite too exuberant for the gal on occasion, we went searching for her owners. Max’s Dad visited neighbours for clues, nothing; we went to the local park to look for leads, no luck; we scoured the streets searching for bereft owners and, in the absence of anyone obvious, we approached complete strangers and asked if she was theirs, nope; finally we went to the vets to see if she had a micro-chip, yes! We found out she is a serial escapee and her name is Pearl. I had her down as a Sheila. In a matter of minutes her owner was on the way to pick her up. Shame, I was hoping I would be forced to take her home. Then she could come to work with me every day and help me to garden. Once a week she could catch up with Max and help him chase the seagulls. Once a week she could come with me to The Farm and chase the bunnies. She could make friends with Lord and Lady Mantle and Young Wills, and Mr and Mrs Bun and Bobbie. Me and Sheila would have been a good partnership. What a shame.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

This was my first proper week back at work. Last week was a gentle introduction. It didn’t really count. The weather and my burgeoning cough necessitated a slow and steady pace. We needed to re-aquaint ourselves. This week was fully-fledged, back to normal, let’s get going, shake a leg, gardening. Wonderful.

It might seem contrary, as someone who so magnanimously took a whole month off, to say that I have missed my work. But I have missed the gardens and the forethought, but mostly the people. It is not a secret that plants are my passion, but even more important to me are my relationships with those that I work for. They are stars, one and all. And, if I was to be very honest, paragons.

Hopefully

Today is a day of celebration. I am happy to announce that overnight I have become a proud mother to a dear little Carthamus tinctoria seedling. Hang on a moment, what is that coming up behind? A double reason to celebrate, we’ve got twins! Hopefully.

Actually I am planning for a much larger brood of the safflower or false saffron. I first came across this stunning yellow thistle a couple of years ago, and was instantly smitten, as you can see here in a previous post ID . Still I haven’t managed to grow one myself. Yet. This will be the season. Hopefully.

Last year I made a feeble attempt, but they suffered from parental neglect and came to nothing. In my defence, their preferred conditions which are “arid, poor soil” is hardly North Devon’s default climate. This year I will try again, hopefully in tandem with Mr Kingdom at The Rivendell Garden Blog, who I shared some seed with. Mind you, I’m not sure his South Wales environment is any more Kazakhstan-y than we are. This is not a competition. Just a scientific experiment. What do you say? A packet of chocolate hobnobs for the first one in bloom? After all it is going to be a fantastic summer and the dry and sunny weather that is on its way will suit it perfectly. Hopefully.

A Day in the Life

After an uncommonly frosty start it was business as usual at The Farm.

We kicked off with a little rabbit herding (domestic), then went on to some rabbit cussing (wild). The better part of the day was spent undertaking the wondrous triumvirate of weed, chop and mulch. This very rewarding work was interspersed with a little plant shuffling, wheelbarrow hill climb, taking my coat and hat off, looking for my hand trowel, putting my hat and coat back on, finding my trowel, losing my gloves, pulling crocosmia, finding my gloves. On repeat.

I also admired a lone flower of Teucrium fruticans.

Shared a joke with Pip (unrepeatable).

Was pleased to see the that honesty seed had flown, the punctured pods empty.

Finally, I was sad to see that the red oak sapling had been severely nibbled but very happy that our willow sculpture was flowering. When I told Farmer Tony about the salix he asked “is that good?”. Anything this beautiful can’t be bad, surely?