Six on Saturday – Disrupted

scaffold

It has been a disruptive week.  I am disrupted.  Bits all over the place.

Betwixt and between I have half an hour to spare.  What better use of this time than attempting a Six on Saturday.  I mean if Mr K can fell and dispose of a 15m length of leylandii and still contribute to The Propagator’s weekly assignment surely I can make the effort.  So this is it.  My disrupted effort.

Firstly we have scaffolding.  But you probably guessed that one.  They arrived yesterday morning.  One jolly, one with the demeanour of the devil.  That is just what I need in my life, I thought, another grumpy man.  They took out the front window and passed the uprights and crosses and planks and mud through out house.  Then it rained.  And galed.  And we dashed to cover and recover TV and books and chairs and grabbed paintings from the walls and watched our home implode.  Then they put the window back and we tided up.  All was well.  Until they come back to take it down again.

All my pots have been shoved, unceremoniously, into corners and alleys.  Many are out of reach, watering is not feasible, or my occasional tootling and worrying and nosing about.  One of which  has, by luck, found its way to the front of the corral is a garden centre rescuee, a “no label”.  This is when a little bit of knowledge comes in handy, and as you know a little bit is all I possess.  I was a little bit smug when this dark double auricula started to flower.  This is my glory shot.  Perhaps I should have saved it for later.

cosmos

Now we have the “cosmos that will not flower but is actually considering it now”.  Cheers mate.  About time.

Begonia

Next a begonia.  These are not my favourite.  I would not choose them, but OH thinks they are reliable and long flowering and trouble-free, all of which is true.  We must remember that it is not my garden, it is our garden.  This of course troubles me on occasion, but I have decided to keep OH for the meantime and therefore the begonias must also remain.

pyracantha

Another compromise, the pyracantha.  Prickly and painful.  But admittedly the fruit is both beautiful and worthy.

fuchsia

Lastly a garden stalwart, an anonymous fuchsia, which without care or attention returns each year with flowers aplenty.  No showstopper, but a fine spear carrier.

That is your lot.  Which is just as well because that half hour passed and things have been done and fine folk celebrated in the meantime.  Now I have returned and am ready to switch it all off. Thanks The Prop for your continuing propping.  Until next time ……

 

 

 

 

 

Six on Saturday – Chocolates

Salvia leucantha 'Midnight'

Even though it was singularly uninviting, it being damp and windy and the weekend, I had to go out into the garden this morning.  Not just because of the pressing urgency of The Propagator‘s Six on Saturday, but because if I didn’t do certain jobs a visit from the local RSPCP officer was inevitable.  So I did, with dragging teenaged feet and hunched shoulders.  Not fair.  No one cares.  Not working?  OK.

Without further ado, or attention seeking behaviour, I will get back to the task in hand.  My Six on Saturday.  The first chocolate in the box today is the amazing Salvia leucantha ‘Midnight’.   It is tender, in spite of its furry coat, and takes a while to get up the energy to flower after the winter.  Hence it has only just begun to bloom here.  In my top ten of salvias.  For some reason marzipan springs to mind.  Purple marzipan, if it doesn’t exist it should be invented forthwith!

cyclamen

Now for the second morsel.  The aforementioned urgent job was to replant the containers outside the front door.  They were looking, let me chose my words carefully here, shameful.  I had bought replacements, including this cyclamen, a couple of weeks ago and they had been languishing patiently for me to uphold my part of the bargain.  Cyclamen are favourites of mine and even here, in the teeth of the wind, they will continue to flower until next spring.   What do you think, raspberry parfait?

viola

The next treat for you is a little viola, one of a mixed bunch also bought to jolly up the front of the house.  Although they have a tendency to stop flowering for a while, they always begin again just as I am thinking about chucking them out.   Somewhere beneath, I am hoping, are last year’s bulbs and corms.  Quite what these are will be as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.  I vaguely remember some crocus and perhaps Iris reticulata, oh and maybe some Jetfire.  You can’t beat a good surprise.  As for this one, I reckon it might be a mint chocolate.

apple

Now onto a definite hard centre, apple flavoured of course.  This tree was here when we moved in. Although it is undoubtedly on dwarf rooting stock, it is still too big for our little plot.  Each year the jackdaws find the fruit before they are ripe, pecking large holes in them, knocking many to the ground in the process.  When we do get to taste one they are delicious.  As it is unlikely that those clever corvids will forget where their late summer feast is, our share in the future is likely to be minimal.

fuchsia

Another of our inheritances is this fuchsia.  I am fond of fuchsias, and this is a rather pleasant one.  It is not however jaw-dropping, or stunning, or incredible, or magical.  Quite pretty, that is all.   If this was one of my chocolates it would be one of the last to be eaten, perhaps a toffee, or orange cream.   However I am well aware that there are plenty of people who would be picking this one first.  You are very welcome to my orange cream, I’ll have your praline.

Lastly we have some of the plants that have been replaced by the bright young things.  They are cuphea, argyranthemum and eccremocarpus.  These would be the misshapes, the ones that failed to meet the stringent standards.  After last week’s public outcry (OK, just John) I have potted them up to over-winter somewhere more clement, perhaps the Caribbean, most likely crammed into my tiny plastic greenhouse with a zillion others.

More thanks to Mr P for making me get out of bed early on a Saturday morning, stumbling around the garden taking photos, much to the amusement of my neighbours.  Mr P has the power.