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solariana asked me to talk about Gardens and Flowers, but I have allowed myself to be wildly distracted by the archives of TLo's Musical Mondays.
Anyway. Wow, gardens, flowers, where do I start?
I love going round big, open Gardens. There are always so many fabulous flowers, shrubs, trees and other vegetation to see. We seem to manage an outing from Camp to somewhere, these days—I remember going off to a lovely place last year where the bees were so enthusiastically clustered around the salvias fringing the rose bushes that the air hummed. And of course, huge, sweeping gardens around manor-sized houses can really display their flowers en masse, which is glorious.
I don't know that I have a favourite flower. In fact, I'm sure I haven't. Every time I think of one—pink-and-yellow roses, say—I think of another one that must be a contender. Irises. Lilies. Waterlilies. Crocosmia, for their vibrant colours and fascinating shape. Birds of Paradise, ditto. Gerberas. Lily of the valley. Peonies, preferably the very palest pink. Daffodils I prefer in hosts. Sunflowers, fat, bright and cheerful.
I'm not really a gardener. I will plant seeds, or occasionally plants from a garden centre, and if they grow, good, and if they don't, oh well. I don't try to tackle anything tricky, like the kind that need to be uprooted and stored every winter, which is why I have no dahlias, because blow that for a lark. But I have spent quite a while deciding on what to put in the flower beds at the front of the house: there's a small squarish one tucked in next to the house, which holds a pretty little acer with dark red, spidery leaves, and a raised bed made of recycled railway sleepers.
I decided these should have pink flowers, with a smattering of purple and white. Possibly a misguided choice given our tomato-coloured garage door, but never mind. So there are osteospermum under the little tree, which have done a sterling job of ground cover and have also been blooming since about June, awesome stamina. Plus a couple of heucheras, a random pelargonium, a begonia that revived from last year, an anonymous green bush, a hollyhock which is doing its best, and a baby fuchsia which will probably have to be moved if it decides to grow properly, but with any luck that will be somebody else's problem. There are also pink tulips, which I hope will reappear next spring. This year's lilies took it upon themselves to grow in January; I told them it was a mistake but did they listen? So they all got frost-nibbled and did nothing. Wonder what will happen next year?
Cerinthe is the star of the raised bed. You don't see a lot of it about, which is odd because it is really pretty and seems to be more than happy to grow even under my negligent hands. I wasn't expecting it to make a second appearance this year, but the flowers are out *now*, comforting in recent days a gigantic and very confused bumble bee. A mass of purple shows up in late spring, and as the link will testify, it's an adventurous plant. Beast retrieved several shoots from the gutter above the lounge window, which I potted up and shared with anyone who showed an interest. And I see it has sneaked out into the street as well.
There are also three lily bulbs which produce most magnificent tall spikes of pink lilies. There are two giant heucheras and one slightly overwhelmed regular heuchera, which all did very nicely this year. There are a couple of lavender bushes, and some of the fuchsias seem inclined to stick with it, and some belated scented stocks, which I grew from seed and which did nothing for ages but finally bloomed in November. There's also a bush of something that may, possibly, be a salvia—the leaves smell of mint and it is covered with vibrant magenta flowers for quite a lot of the summer.
The back garden is more the domain of shrubs. Most of these were planted by the chaps who came to re-do our garden, while I was rigid in bed with labyrinthitis on the eve of our planned round-the-world trip a couple of years ago. But I excavated some of the shrubs from my front bed—I had emailed the chief gardener my plan for the front, which did not include a variety of non-flowering shrubs, but hey—so there is a bit more landscaping than the original planting at soldierly intervals would have allowed. Most of them seem to have survived, which is good.
Flowers-wise, the hostas put up a few happy spikes, but hosta flowers seem a bit unnecessary to me, since the leaves are so lush and decorative (when not snacked upon by the famous Hertfordshire trampolining slugs, anyway). However, I planted three yellow lily bulbs among the ferns and hostas, and they turned out well. The honeysuckle on the back fence is doing nicely, the clematis managed an actual flower this year, and the sweet peas eventually got their act together and produced a mass of purple blooms, which was very nice indeed. And of course, eventually, there were sunflowers, again from seed. Two of the stalks basically grew along the ground and sent up perpendicular flowers, and the resultant display made me very happy. A jug full of sunflowers in one's lounge is a lovely thing.
I think I will have to do sunflowers again when I have a new garden to think about. They are the exception to the rule, which is, Perennials Rule. I'm not much of a one for bedding plants and, well, stuff that needs to be done again every year. Or at least, I might get all excited about hanging baskets one year, but then they have to be done again, and I don't tend to be keen on things for a prolonged time, particularly when they require actual work, slogging about with compost and dirty fingernails and such. But there will have to be fuchsias in my future garden, because fuchsias are lovely, and there will have to be heucheras, because their leaves are so fabulous long after (and before) the flower spikes, and there will have to be cerinthe because frankly, if I plant that I probably won't need to plant anything else anyway.
You never know, though. If I get the garden I have my eye on, ten years from now I could be happily tending a magnificent plot full of blooms. Maybe.
solariana asked me to talk about Gardens and Flowers, but I have allowed myself to be wildly distracted by the archives of TLo's Musical Mondays.Anyway. Wow, gardens, flowers, where do I start?
I love going round big, open Gardens. There are always so many fabulous flowers, shrubs, trees and other vegetation to see. We seem to manage an outing from Camp to somewhere, these days—I remember going off to a lovely place last year where the bees were so enthusiastically clustered around the salvias fringing the rose bushes that the air hummed. And of course, huge, sweeping gardens around manor-sized houses can really display their flowers en masse, which is glorious.
I don't know that I have a favourite flower. In fact, I'm sure I haven't. Every time I think of one—pink-and-yellow roses, say—I think of another one that must be a contender. Irises. Lilies. Waterlilies. Crocosmia, for their vibrant colours and fascinating shape. Birds of Paradise, ditto. Gerberas. Lily of the valley. Peonies, preferably the very palest pink. Daffodils I prefer in hosts. Sunflowers, fat, bright and cheerful.
I'm not really a gardener. I will plant seeds, or occasionally plants from a garden centre, and if they grow, good, and if they don't, oh well. I don't try to tackle anything tricky, like the kind that need to be uprooted and stored every winter, which is why I have no dahlias, because blow that for a lark. But I have spent quite a while deciding on what to put in the flower beds at the front of the house: there's a small squarish one tucked in next to the house, which holds a pretty little acer with dark red, spidery leaves, and a raised bed made of recycled railway sleepers.
I decided these should have pink flowers, with a smattering of purple and white. Possibly a misguided choice given our tomato-coloured garage door, but never mind. So there are osteospermum under the little tree, which have done a sterling job of ground cover and have also been blooming since about June, awesome stamina. Plus a couple of heucheras, a random pelargonium, a begonia that revived from last year, an anonymous green bush, a hollyhock which is doing its best, and a baby fuchsia which will probably have to be moved if it decides to grow properly, but with any luck that will be somebody else's problem. There are also pink tulips, which I hope will reappear next spring. This year's lilies took it upon themselves to grow in January; I told them it was a mistake but did they listen? So they all got frost-nibbled and did nothing. Wonder what will happen next year?
Cerinthe is the star of the raised bed. You don't see a lot of it about, which is odd because it is really pretty and seems to be more than happy to grow even under my negligent hands. I wasn't expecting it to make a second appearance this year, but the flowers are out *now*, comforting in recent days a gigantic and very confused bumble bee. A mass of purple shows up in late spring, and as the link will testify, it's an adventurous plant. Beast retrieved several shoots from the gutter above the lounge window, which I potted up and shared with anyone who showed an interest. And I see it has sneaked out into the street as well.
There are also three lily bulbs which produce most magnificent tall spikes of pink lilies. There are two giant heucheras and one slightly overwhelmed regular heuchera, which all did very nicely this year. There are a couple of lavender bushes, and some of the fuchsias seem inclined to stick with it, and some belated scented stocks, which I grew from seed and which did nothing for ages but finally bloomed in November. There's also a bush of something that may, possibly, be a salvia—the leaves smell of mint and it is covered with vibrant magenta flowers for quite a lot of the summer.
The back garden is more the domain of shrubs. Most of these were planted by the chaps who came to re-do our garden, while I was rigid in bed with labyrinthitis on the eve of our planned round-the-world trip a couple of years ago. But I excavated some of the shrubs from my front bed—I had emailed the chief gardener my plan for the front, which did not include a variety of non-flowering shrubs, but hey—so there is a bit more landscaping than the original planting at soldierly intervals would have allowed. Most of them seem to have survived, which is good.
Flowers-wise, the hostas put up a few happy spikes, but hosta flowers seem a bit unnecessary to me, since the leaves are so lush and decorative (when not snacked upon by the famous Hertfordshire trampolining slugs, anyway). However, I planted three yellow lily bulbs among the ferns and hostas, and they turned out well. The honeysuckle on the back fence is doing nicely, the clematis managed an actual flower this year, and the sweet peas eventually got their act together and produced a mass of purple blooms, which was very nice indeed. And of course, eventually, there were sunflowers, again from seed. Two of the stalks basically grew along the ground and sent up perpendicular flowers, and the resultant display made me very happy. A jug full of sunflowers in one's lounge is a lovely thing.
I think I will have to do sunflowers again when I have a new garden to think about. They are the exception to the rule, which is, Perennials Rule. I'm not much of a one for bedding plants and, well, stuff that needs to be done again every year. Or at least, I might get all excited about hanging baskets one year, but then they have to be done again, and I don't tend to be keen on things for a prolonged time, particularly when they require actual work, slogging about with compost and dirty fingernails and such. But there will have to be fuchsias in my future garden, because fuchsias are lovely, and there will have to be heucheras, because their leaves are so fabulous long after (and before) the flower spikes, and there will have to be cerinthe because frankly, if I plant that I probably won't need to plant anything else anyway.
You never know, though. If I get the garden I have my eye on, ten years from now I could be happily tending a magnificent plot full of blooms. Maybe.
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no subject
Date: 2014-12-10 08:33 pm (UTC)And thank you for the very pretty and sparkly card. Such a cute stamp too! ♥
no subject
Date: 2014-12-12 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-11 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-12 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-12 04:17 pm (UTC)The Cerinthe is such a cool flower. You can grow it in Sweden too but only as an annual. Our winters are apparently too cold for it. (I really envy you people in England! You can grow so many more cool things than we can here in Sweden. It's unfair! :-)
I'll keep my fingers crossed your new garden will be fabulous!
no subject
Date: 2014-12-12 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-09 11:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-10 11:48 am (UTC)I hope your future garden is overrun by fuchsias!