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 – Stormzy and Soggzy

Of course it was too good to be true.  Last week was the intruder, the uninvited guest who agitated the party, whipping up the mob, charming us into believing we could have better.  But we can’t.  This is the south-west of the UK.  It rains.  It blows.  We have residual webbed feet.   I should have known better than to raise my hopes.  But I did.  Now everything is back to type and I feel disappointed.  Which is why I am here, far too early for a Saturday morning, on the set of Carry on Screaming.  The wind outside is making ridiculously clichéd sound effects, sleep is impossible.

But let us not descend into melancholia, this blip is nothing that a bit of Six on Saturday can’t sort out.  This cure-all is distributed by Dr Prop, medicine man and snake oil supplier to the stars.  If you dare, pop over and see what it’s all about.

To begin we have apple blossom, of which there is an embarrassment this year.  Or should I say was?  I am wondering how much will remain after these gales.   Still, we rarely eat the fruit these tiny twisted trees produce.  The jackdaws will be remiss, they love their autumn apples.

Next we have a surprise, to me anyway.  As the label had been stolen by the fairies/broken/never existed I was under the illusion that in this pot lurked a bizarre root vegetable I had bought from Lidl a couple of years ago.  Apparently not.  I believe I can say without contradiction that it is a fuchsia.  Then it all came flooding back.  It is Fuchsia jantasensis and it has been languishing for a few years not doing anything of merit, definitely not flowering.   I can quite honestly say that it was not worth the wait.  Apparently it is quite variable in form.  Not sure this is its best incarnation.  The pollen looks like broken biscuits which is rather sad.

Now for a something with a little more potential. Osteospermum ‘JK’ is just about to come into flower.  Dependable, weed smothering, bright and beautiful.  Sound like anyone we know?

What now?  Oh yes, strawberry flowers.  Shall we take a moment?  I think we need it.  Imagine a sun-warmed plump strawberry, plucked straight from the plant in all its virgin glory, at best wiped on the leg of your shorts to remove any slug slime, sweet and fragrant.  Better have another one.   Fabulous.  That feels much better.

The photo is a bit blurry because it was raining when I took the photo, and the wind had already begun its torment.  The things I do for you!

This little tulip, Tulipa batalinii, was bought at Marwood Hill Gardens a couple of weeks ago.  One pot for me, one pot for my friend.  For some reason we thought they would be bright red, possibly because this is what we wanted and somehow by wanting them to be that colour it would materialise.  Wrong again.  This flower has been wide open and has now quite sensibly decided that the better part of valour is discretion.    It is rather pretty, with its green tinged edge.  But definitely not red.

A few years ago I saw a truly gob smackingly amazing lily on the television which went straight to the top of the Lust List, Lilium ‘Forever Susan’.   Deepest mahogany petals, the tips of which are orange, as if someone has held onto the ends as each were individually dipped.   When I spotted a pack in a garden centre I was very excited.  When I came to plant them I realised that they were Forever Linda and not Forever Susan.  Close, but not close enough.  Nice, but not nice enough.  I mustn’t muddy my love.

There we have it, another week completed.  Stay safe.  Remember the strawberries.