6 Jun 2010

My garden is now ready to face summer

Alternative title: another gratuitous opportunity to post some photos I took over the weekend. Please click on any of the photographs to see a larger view.

I have a small garden. A very small garden. Not the kind of small garden they talk about in the commentary to the Chelsea Flower Show TV coverage – mine is merely postage stamp sized – far too small for a garden designer to trouble themselves over. A friend came to visit me one gorgeous day a few years ago and I suggested we take lunch into the garden to which he commented “I knew you had a small garden, but I didn’t think it was this small!”

As we like to eat out as often as weather permits and I like to take my work outside too, I concentrated on flowers with fragrance this time and got two of these candy striped phlox plants which are a dome of those pretty little flowers.

I’ve blogged in earlier summers about my garden – it’s basically the enclosed back yard of a Lancashire cottage, intended to house the outside facilities and for storage of logs and coal and for drying washing, the house being built pre-indoor plumbing, central heating and tumble driers.

I keep several dichondra each summer, each in a separate pot on their own adjacent to seating, purely for stroking purposes you understand. They’re deliciously velvety and soft to run your hands over, just like stroking a weimaraner puppy.

My house is a long thin tall stone cottage of about 140 years old, so my yard is too. The house sits in what is basically a square plot, divided into three long strips. The house sits in the middle third, with a long thin garden on either side.

I’ve only just finished the summer planting, which will need to fill out – and hopefully flower – a considerable amount yet – so it looks a tad scrawny still, but another month will see a huge difference.

The garden in question is enclosed within 6 foot high stone walls and the base is entirely concreted. The concrete is of very poor quality and badly uneven, so we covered it with small sized gravel when we first made it into a garden some years ago. When we first decided to make it into a garden, largely as an area for sitting out to eat in summer, it was pretty bare, unnaturally new-looking and has taken a number of years to fill out and develop a personality. It’s finally reached the stage where it looks like a proper, established garden. I suspect these things can only be hurried along if you have deep pockets.

Height is achieved in this area as the display is based on lots of cut logs from a dead tree my father felled in his garden – logs of different heights simply stand on end and form stepped risers for smaller pots. In fact, some of the plants have simply seeded themselves into crevices in the timbers.

Everything grows in pots, so we do periodically lose things that just run out of steam when confined to a pot, so every year it is slightly different and I supplement the perennial, largely green, planting with summer bedding to add colour. That has been my priority for the last couple of weekends and I finally put my trowel down last night as darkness drew in and declared it finished. As far as a garden ever can be finished. But I’ve planted all the new things I’m going to this summer.

I think the deep frost and extensive periods of cold this winter seemed to benefit this pyracantha – which doesn’t like to flower that often, but is going to put on a good show this time. The flowers at the top, that get more sun, have already opened. It has wicked, long sharp thorns though (hence one of its names of Firethorn), so I tend to leave it to its own devices.

I went out to admire my handiwork in the light this morning, just as it started to rain. But it was nice, gentle downward falling summer rain, without wind and the air was just nicely shirt-sleeve warm. The beauty of that sort of still gentle rain is that it lands and remains largely undisturbed, forming jewel like droplets on leaves and flowers. A perfectly beautiful phenomena in its own right.

So I grabbed a camera and just spent a pleasant Sunday summer morning under my umbrella in the company of my camera.

Shame that I can’t include the fragrance with this Pink, it’s fabulous within the enclosed walls of the garden.

The waxy leaves of roses are ideal for the raindrops to form droplets.



This Japanese maple was the first big feature plant I bought and is just turning green from its spring red, returning to this flame like appearance in autumn.


‘Peaches and cream’ Verbenas – just look at the perfect spherical beads of rain in the centre, what could be prettier?

13 Aug 2009

They were so full of promise

After a week of fluctuating weather – some days glorious, some positively autumnal, some days had a bit of both, I finally had what looked like edible tomatoes.

They had been fully formed and green for some time, but it has taken perhaps 3 week for them to actually turn red – at first there was a patchy flush of peach colouring, it deepened to an all-over orange and finally this week, they actually looked like proper tomatoes. At least a few of them do – I still have about 40 green specimens, at this rate, they’ll end up in chutney.

My husband has monitored them like a kid waiting for a cake to rise, wide eyed and salivating. He loves a flavoursome tomato and loves the smell of them, commenting on the fragrance everytime he brushed past the plants.

I think we’ll have to be satisfied with enjoying them this way – as a visual creation. Please click to see a larger copy.

Last night, he could contain himself no longer and went out and picked the 5 tomatoes shown – he called me down to witness them and ceremoniously grabbed our best serrated tomato-cutting knife and chopping board and sliced the juiciest example right down the middle, mercilessly splitting it asunder.

We stood in admiration at the perfectly formed centre and juicy fruitiness of something that came into being at our own hand. We steeled ourselves to savour the moment of glory and each mouthed a half. It’s true to say that the flavour was good. Very good. Just what you’d hope for from a home grown, loved and well tended specimen.

But it was mushy and soft and the texture was pretty unpleasant. I suspect the long period they took to ripen was not kind on the fruity flesh. I feel so sorry for him, he was so looking forward to eating them, I feel that he has been cheated and it was with a heavy heart as I put the breakfast things back in the fridge, I saw that the remaining four specimens were sitting there un-loved. They never even made it into his lunch box. What a cruel blow for him after all that anticipation.

5 Aug 2009

My One Pound hanging basket

I’ve touched before on our lack of gardening budget this summer, after my husband was out of work for a little while this spring. Consequently, I had to make what we had go a little further.

But it’s actually been an interesting exercise. I spent a very modest amount on annual ‘bedding’ plants for pots and baskets and spread it all rather thinly. But I think there has been real value in doing so. In the past, I’ve crammed pots with a selection of plants and by this time of year, despite feeding and TLC, they’ve been starting to look weary. I think I have simply over-planted in the past. We’ve also gained some advantage this year by not taking a summer holiday, just as the garden was looking its most fabulous.

Please click to see a larger view of the photographs.

Despite the very modest outlay on annuals, we have a great showing of colour and the garden is as nice as it has ever been. I kept it very simple – I planted several medium sized terracotta pots I already had with single plants or a cluster of assorted Lobelia plugs. They all look fabulous now – each one is a dome of colour, especially the Lobelia pots. This is very certainly a practice I’ll continue in future years, I really like the effect.

I had some successes and some failures. The greatest successes happened to be the minimal spend items and the total failures were unfortunately the most expensive. Another lesson learned. I bought some gorgeous deep red chrysanthemums – they were fabulous specimens and I was full of hope. They were the single most expensive plants I bought. They turned out to be nothing more than expensive snail fodder, as blogged previously. They were totally laid to waste within 48 hours. I also bought some yellow and orange tagetes, as these have given a good showing in previous years. They went the way of the chrysanthemums – but did manage to at least hold out for 72 hours.

But one of my greatest joys has been two trays of tiny little fuchsias I bought – they were in a local DIY store on a BOGOF offer when we went to get some plumbing supplies to repair an emergency leak – so I wasn’t even looking for plants. I paid £3.99 for a tray of 10 small plants, with another the same free. Some of the plants were a little weary, so I rummaged through the stacks of trays to find the healthiest looking specimens – so 20 fuchsia plants at 20p each! All 20 plants have positively thrived and have just started to burst into flower this week. They’re all supposed to be the same plants, but there is clearly more than one variety in there. I have five additional pots featuring them too.

They looked so tiny that I planted 5 of them in the hanging pot I had retained from last year – it looked somewhat pathetic for a while. But the flowers have burst open this week, with masses of buds now showing.

So the hanging basket by my back door cost me £1 this year – this must be worth a pound of anyone’s money!

23 Jul 2009

The biggest raspberry in the world . . .

. . . or the one that got away!

I’ve hardly had chance to get out into the garden this week – there has been torrential rain with a stiff breeze, punctuated by short – very short – spells of bright sunshine. No sooner to get I get my clogs on and head out of the door, than the heavens dump on me again.

But this afternoon I got a decent interval to catch up on some outdoor chores when it remained dry and the air was nice and warm.

As blogged previously, I have some raspberry canes which have done better at actually producing fruit this year than in recent years, largely due to the warm sunny spell we had a week or two ago – I think that was the summer of 2009 and is nothing but a distant memory now. So I had a few fruits to pick that I could see through the foliage. After the poor performance of my canes in recent summers, I planted two new pots of a different variety and the fruits they produce are fabulous – they’re huge, succulent, sweet and flavoursome.

One pot is in a slightly different position than the others and doesn’t seemingly get quite as much full sun and I didn’t help it by putting the least mature canes in that spot. Consequently, the fruit is somewhat behind the rest of my crop (I use this term very loosely, a handful a day hardly qualifies) and I haven’t yet picked any from that pot.

I haven’t grown sweet peas for years and these are my first blooms this year.
They’re such a vibrant colour that you would think it was man-made.

But the largest raspberry that was furthest on had reached absolute perfection today – it was perfectly ripe, flawless and absolutely mahoosive. This was perhaps the largest raspberry I’ve ever seen – absolutely gi-huge – certainly the largest I’ve grown by a significant margin. It was displaying itself proudly at the front of the bough, with a perfect bright green leaf either side of it and a cluster of smaller paler fruits behind. This needed to be recorded for posterity. Whilst my camera was to hand, the memory card was in the card reader upstairs.

This is not the raspberry in question, I took this a while ago to show the average size of the fruits these new canes produce. My fabulous specimen was at least twice this size.

So I returned a little while later with my card, grabbed the camera and headed outside to record this behemoth specimen of raspberry-dom. I actually did a physical double take. I took a few steps back and re-traced my steps, wondering if it had been on the other pot, not the one I was looking at. My prize raspberry was nowhere to be seen. All that remained was a shiny cream coloured hull and two or three pink drupelets of the fruit remaining.

Stop thief!

Someone had stolen my raspberry! I would have taken a photo of the crime scene, but I was too flabbergasted to think to at the time. I can only assume a bird has taken it, but there’s not really anywhere for a bird to perch whilst harvesting the booty and I rarely get birds in that garden because it is so enclosed within steep walls.

So now no one will believe how truly fabulous it was – but I swear – it was . . . . this . . . big!

Thankfully my tomatoes are still right where they should be.
But I shall be organising surveillance as they ripen.