Six on Saturday – Compass Point

It is Six on Saturday time again, which is serving as a welcome compass point. Although hard to believe, the days this week have seemed more confused than ever. Cancellations, rearrangements and future plans, when the future was previously barely credible, have all served to muddy my already murky waters. For that reason it is nice to know that this is Saturday and only Saturday, for that is all it could be. If you wish to discover further benefits to SoS participation, then pop over to The Propagator to find out more, or perhaps even less, my compadres are also often muddled. Let us get on or I will be getting in trouble with the Strict Task Master across the Channel, no Fred, not you, the other Channel.

First, a leaf of Brugmansia ‘Grand Marnier’ and friend. You must forgive for the blurry photograph, it was early morning, before my 100% proof flagon of coffee. During my garden meanderings I spotted this critter and ran (wobbled) back to the house to get my camera. All that exertion was too much for me, hence shake. And no, it was nothing to do with gin. This brugmansia has not thrived, possibly due to being in too small a pot. Last weekend this was rectified, so now has absolutely no excuse not to do something fabulous.

Next, a dear little erodium, nestled in an alpine planter bought lock, stock and barrel from a bargain bin, far, far away. It has subsequently been ignored. Everyone loves a trouper.

Now the absolutely gorgeous Diascia personata, a gift from my friend Chloris. She is not only generous, she also has impeccable taste. Its common name is masked twinspur. After absolutely no research on this matter at all, I can only surmise this is due to its twin spurs which are masked. I wouldn’t quote me on it.

On to a teasel water reservoir. This is son of, son of, son of etc the teasel that hitched a ride from our previous home in Bristol. We love teasels in our house. Although none of the current generations have reached the dizzying heights of their predecessor, all are loved. Next door has a new bird feeder which has attracted a family of goldfinches, hopefully they will still be about to enjoy our offering. Yesterday I was watching a fledgling on the telephone wire outside our bedroom window, gloriously twittering for some grub. A joy.

Now for Impatiens puberala, just coming into flower. A great favourite of mine, although I am sure it would be happier in the ground or living with someone with a better watering ethic.

Lastly Dichelostemma ida-maia, which I featured as a mere shoot in an earlier SoS. It has suffered badly from the onslaught of molluscs. The attack has been relentless. Although the flower is not fully out, I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to share. It might be in the belly of a snail tomorrow.

That’s it, all done for another week. Take care my friends.

Spotlight

erodium

Basking under the sunny spotlight is the heronsbill, Erodium manescavii.  This Pyrenean native is enjoying the recent cold snap, reminiscing about its chilly homeland.  There are no Mountain Dogs here though, just Max who is half kangeroo and not interested in snow peaked mountains. Perhaps we could train him.  He will need a wig.

Heronsbill

IMG_6597

As anyone who is self employed will tell you, it is very difficult to turn down work for fear of not being asked again.  There comes a time though, when you have to say “today is for me” and that is what happened yesterday.  And what did I do?  Well I gardened of course.

Sometimes I think that plants survive in my garden in spite of me.   Althaea cannibina struggling behind an over-exuberant euryops, barely protected Hedychium greenii already with shoots of 20cm, ignored dahlias showing their wares.  My lovely daylily ‘Pollies Dark Seedling’, once feared lost, was ably tackling the molluscs unassisted.  Talking of the enemy; there were biblical amount of slugs and snails.  Every pot I lifted, every leaf I turned, every plant I knocked out, there they were, in all colours, shapes and sizes, lurking belligerently and stuffed full of fresh foliage.  Bindweed was the herbaceous equivalent; strangling, sneaky, cleverly wrapped around itself to make a taut stem with which to climb to even higher heights.  A whole day spent in intensive care went some way to bring the garden back from the brink.  Must try much harder, it really is a very bad example.

This little Erodium manescavii wasn’t bothered by my neglect.   I have a soft spot for the diminutive heronsbill.  Very uncomplaining, very beautiful, perfect for my garden.