Six on Saturday – Befuddled

Not only am I confused about what day it is, I am a little befuddled as to which week of the year it is.  Hence, I spent a fair amount of time on a blog which is appropriate to next week.   No matter, it is money in the bank I suppose.  We are getting paid for this right?

“Paid for what?”, you might ask, for Six on Saturdaying of course! That universal weekendly past-time of the great and the good.  To join our blissfully happy, mind-controlled crew, just pop on over to Propfessor X to find out what is going on.  There are definitely no subliminal messages hidden in this blog, definitely not.  Just don’t blink.  Shall we proceed?

First, we have Allium aflatunense ‘Purple Sensation’, one of many this week I should imagine.  In a slow crawl towards extending the season in The Bed of Anarchy, I planted these bulbs last year.  Or was it the year before?  Whichever, there aren’t enough of them to make a good show.  They move around the border all on their own, as if looking for more of their own kind.  I may well have to rectify that.

Now we have a lone lithodora flower.  Blue.  That is all that needs to be said.

Onto my arty-farty shot of the week and the interpretation therein.

The raindrops, suspended on the waxy surface of a hosta leaf, illustrate how we are living in our individual bubbles at the moment, where we have little choice but to reflect on inner demons and angels. There is no escape, we can see our loved ones in their respective bubbles, but can’t reach them.  If we did, we would destroy them.

A moment after this shot was taken next door’s cat knocked the leaf with her tail and the drops fell to the ground and disbursed.  I like to think this symbolises the futility of me trying to be serious.  The End.

Next strawberry flowers.  So white, such promise.  And if you are listening out there; Mr Slug, Mrs Snail, The Blackbird Clan; I am not sharing!

Then we have Aquilegia ‘Egg’, a flower I have featured before.  It is called Egg because OH nicked the seed from the farm where we used to get our eggs.  Later I asked the farmer’s wife what had happened to the mother plant, she said it had died.  My noble plan is to grow another and, at the dead of night, possibly wearing a balaclava, anonymously leave it on her doorstep.  Otherwise she might arrest me for seed theft, although it wasn’t me, honest guv.  She is rather scary, and looks very strong.  The farmer’s wife that is, not the aquilegia, which isn’t scary at all.

And finally, the biggest and most beautiful of our Woolies Acers.  The young leaves are at their best at the moment.  The stresses of grown-up life, the sporadic watering and summer winds that go with maturity, have yet to distress them.

That is my lot for this week.  Hope you enjoyed them.  Keep on keeping on, my friends.

 

Six on Saturday – Small but Pefectly Formed, Mainly

We are fair motoring through May.  I have an inkling we may be surpassing the speed limit.  It is hard to believe that already this is the last Six on Saturday for the month.  Whoever is in charge of time monitoring could they please slow it down a little?  There is an awful lot to do before summer begins.   Someone who is never to busy to herd us SoSers into some kind of order is The Propmiester, pop over to his site and you will find out what, where and how from across the known universe.

Shall we begin with a newcomer to the fold, Viola ‘Molly Sanderson’.  She arrived at Chez Nous with last week’s osteospermum and argyranthemum.  My plan was to trickle in these purchases so you wouldn’t judge me as someone with a minusule garden who keeps sowing seeds and taking cuttings and can’t be trusted to leave the house for a loaf of bread without coming home with a new plant.  This viola is an irresistible wonder.  A black hole of a flower, with a smidgeon of indigo ringed yellow at the epi-centre, drawing you ever inwards to your doom.  Perhaps not doom, more likely some delicious nectar and a truck load of pollen, if that is your tipple.

Unlike its hirsute cousins (and to be honest who doesn’t have one lurking somewhere in the family) this Iris sibirica is tall and elegant and understated.  The Salvia gesneriiflora photobombing the shot hasn’t stopped flowering since February and is getting bigger and flowerier (yes that is a word) by the day.  We won’t let its exuberance overshadow the restrained beauty of the iris.  Keep your eyes central everyone!

It is rhodohypoxis time again.  This might sound a little like an embarrassing medical condition but in reality refers to these alpine iced gems.  Somehow three varieties got mixed up and the garden demons stole their labels.  Therefore they are known as an assortment of loveliness.  It is my party.

On to Viola sororia ‘Freckles’ which found its way into my shopping bag last year.  It is the first time it has flowered for me and although very attractive I have a feeling it has yet to get into its stride.   Perhaps the dry weather is upsetting it (I am loathe to say drought just yet).

I grew this adorable Aquilegia canadensis from seed and the first flower is just beginning to unfurl.  Compared to the other self-seeding thugs that dominate our garden, albeit beautifully, at the moment, it is a breath of delicately fresh air.

Unlike Aquilegia ‘Egg’ which was also grown from seed.  This brassy number is bold and brash and shouts a whole lot louder than any other columbines in the vicinity.  I expect you can hear it from where you are.  It is called Egg because the seed was harvested at the farm where we get our eggs.  I suppose it was lucky it wasn’t called Chicken.

There we have it, another six done and dusted.  Next stop June!