Thursday, 27 May 2010

The flowers that bloom in the Spring (tra la)

Why is it that no matter how hard you've been working, a boss only appears the second you sit down? Since 7.30, we'd watered, fed and sprayed the bedding, inventoried the herbaceous perennials, shifted shrubs, moved hanging baskets utside to harden off, built a frame to keep the containerised trees upright and secured them to it, helped the Future Jobs Scheme boys with their annual border, planted up the beds in front of the bothy and weeded the Peace Garden. We'd just sat down for a cuppa when along came a foreman. Ach. Some days, you just can't win.
Took a wander after work and saw the tree paeonies (P. delaveyi) were in flower. I love these deep maroon flowers with their golden anthers, not least because I grew them from seed three or four years ago. The seeds are very large, black and shiny. They germinate easily but slowly, needing two winters in a cold frame. The feathery leaves make a nice contrast with the rhodies.
I've enjoyed seeing Chelsea, but some of the coverage has been truly apalling. To-day they cut to Carol Klein in the vegetable tent and I thought, good, this'll be interesting, but they immediately switched to that stupid woman with the strangulated vowels and weird jerky gestures, wittering on about the language of flowers. Could the director be the same eedjit who's ruined Gardeners' World?
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Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Dahlia iacta est

Perhaps I spent too long in the sun weeding. It was lovely to work so close to the earth again after months in the greenhouses, and when I got home I just carried on and planted my third lot of gladies, meconopsis grown from saved seed, oriental poppies, catanache and finally, the dahlias went in. My "cutting garden " is almost complete, just the chrysanths and sunflowers to come. And of course, the staking. But that's enough for one day, and now it's time to go and lock up and hurl abuse at some rabbits.
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Friday, 7 May 2010

It's a beautiful May evening, clear blue sky and only the faintest of breezes. This means a frost is likely so I went down to cover the hanging baskets with fleece. I shut Chocolate in the greenhouse as she seems to think billowing fabric is a big monster she needs to defend me against. She could be right. It took me an hour, there was just enough wind to make it awkward and I ended up looking like some nightmarish version of the dance of the seven veils.
We're all pretty tired now, just fifty more baskets to make and the golden moss to prick out and the summer bedding will be done. Yipee! I'm on watering duties this weekend, but I reckon I'll go mad and have a glass of wine. Slainte. Or wassail, as I believe they say down south .
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