Tostat and Winchcombe…

Rain sparkling on Eucomis ‘Sparkling Burgundy’ this morning, Tostat, July 2017

The mega-lightening and thunder show last night over Tostat finally brought to an end our 4th or 5th mini-canicule or heatwave that we have had since early May- and at long last, a decent downpour has revived the garden which has been hanging on by it’s fingernails.  The ground is well soaked, though, honestly, it will not have penetrated that far considering the general overall super-dryness, but I am not complaining at all.  The green levels in the garden have been refreshed, and everything looks as if it has been through a carwash.

I am waiting for my book delivery before I review the summer-dryness situation properly.  I need some inspiration to break the thinking habits I reckon.

But today is grey and overcast, which actually means that the garden gets a chance to absorb the rain and use it, as opposed to sticking it’s tin hat on again against the beating sun.  And we had a quite a few days like this in England in June, after we had survived the two blisteringly hot days.  Wandering around Gloucestershire and Winchcombe with our friends, some lovely little moments were to be had.

Winchcombe, Paeonia ‘Bowl of Beauty’, June 2017

Helping Jill to water a friend’s garden, was a delight rather than a chore.  A real plantsperson, the garden-maker had a stack of treats to see, for example, this stunning Paeonia ‘Bowl of Beauty’ that I have read about but never actually seen before.

Beautiful ‘borrowed landscape’ enlarges this small, but lovely, garden, Winchcombe, June 2017

An enchantingly delicate, double white Geranium pratense, which I think is ‘Double Jewel’, also grew there, not a shouty plant at all, but very pretty.  Unlikely to do well with me, but I can admire it all the same.

Geranium ‘Double Jewel’, Winchcombe, June 2017

And it wasn’t all about rarity.  This lovely combination below is achievable easily with very ordinary plants which work beautifully together- a spot of rigorous pulling out now and then needed for the lychnis probably, but that’s all.

Opium poppies, an abundant white dahlia and good old Lychnis coronaria- simple but very effective, Winchcombe, June 2017

I had forgotten how good hollyhocks are.  Gloucestershire seemed to be full to bursting with them in all colours, but I really loved this vibrant red just outside the church in Winchcombe, which is really worth a visit by the way if you are passing.

Knockout hollyhocks just growing in a pavement crack, Winchcombe, June 2017

This black Centaurea montana ‘Black Sprite’ was to be seen in various gardens, including Kiftsgate Court.  It is a newish variety, but is absolutely gorgeous, with healthy and vigorous foliage and these stunning spidery flowers- and looks as if it should be easy as anything.  I am searching for seed as we speak, there is more available in the US, so it may have to be bought there.  Just discovered that our local perennials nursery has it- good for Bernard Lacrouts!

Fabulous Centaurea montana ‘Black Sprite’, Kiftsgate Court, June 2017

Also gorgeous was the statuesque Cephalaria gigantea, which was a frequent player in Gloucestershire gardens.  It’s height, nearly 2m, and go-with-anything cream pincushion flowers, also the airy structure which on the whole seemed to take wind and rain in it’s stride, all these factors make it a lovely plant to try.  I have already bought seed from Chiltern Seeds.

Cephalaria gigantea, Kiftsgate Court, June 2017

Rosa ‘Graham Thomas’, Bourton House Garden, June 2017 photo credit: Colin Massey

Rosa ‘Graham Thomas’ seemed to be the go-to yellow rose for many gardeners.  Who can blame them?  It is a cheerful, buoyant rose that seems to be pretty trouble-free, and, according to David Austin, it has been voted the world’s favourite rose.

A complex Dahlia this one, which I think is ‘Night Butterfly’, so it isn’t usually what I would go for, but mixing in with the Monarda ‘Cambridge Scarlet’ and offset by the creamy-yellow Thalictrum flavum ssp. glaucum ( I think!) I thought the combination was lovely, bringing vividness to a shadier spot.

Dahlia ‘Night Butterfly’, Winchcombe, June 2017

I was so thrilled last week when I found, goodness knows how I hadn’t noticed it before, a surprise gladiolus growing in the very newest bit of border that I started this year.  I am not a huge gladdie fan, but the colour of this one looked very promising and I couldn’t have chosen it better, if I had chosen it!  But this morning, decapitated by the rain ( so you see, the obvious staking had not happened), it is reclining in a jug in the kitchen- ah well.

My surprise gladiolus, beheaded by the rain, Tostat, July 2017

 

 

Tangerine dreaming…waiting for the rain

Papaver rupifragum, Tostat, April 2016

We have had a warm week with lots of sun, great for growing, washing and drying clothes, walking the dog, pottering.  But not so good for weeding or jobs that mean getting into the earth.  Our soil dries out so fast, and then sets hard, so there is no point in weeding beasties like dandelions or newly emerging bindweed.  It has to wait for the soil to be loose and moist.  So, today, serious amounts of rain has been promised since mid-morning, but no show yet, and so I am waiting.  So, pots can be topdressed and refreshed, tick, and tidying up done, never my favourite job, some seedlings transplanted into small pots, and so on- whilst I can also dream a bit.

I have written about this little tangerine poppy before.  Papaver rupifragum is a delight, but such a brief one, and knowing that the rain will finish it off, I took this photograph this morning, after the slender flower had already been decked by Dave the Dog on one of his rampages after wildlife.  But the colour is so bright and pure,  that you can spot it from yards away, and so that was me in my pyjamas kneeling down to look down on it.

And a few metres away, my clumps of Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’ are really throwing up flowerspikes with abandon. If you’ve never thought of buying plants from the far North of Scotland, let me recommend  Tranquility Cottage Nursery on Orkney.  Their plants are first-rate, decent-sized, a good price and the delivery isn’t sky-high.  I bought 3 of these Geums from them 2 years ago, and they are in great shape, despite the heat of last summer and being in a far hotter place.  I wouldn’t put them in all-day sun with us, that would be too much, but in a spot that is more moist than most, with late afternoon sun and dappled sunshine earlier in the day, they have done fine.  I am also trying out another tangerine geum, Geum ‘Alabama Slammer’ which I bought at my great local nursery at Sanous.

Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’, Tostat, April 2016

Geum ‘Alabama Slammer’, Tostat, May 2015

Only in the early part of their second year with me, they are not so well advanced as ‘Totally Tangerine’, but I have a good vibe about them.  Similar colouring, but more ruffled, and with golden hints to them, they will get going a bit later, which helps to spread the flowering.

At the back door, not yet venturing out, maybe at the end of the month, is my small orange tree, which doesn’t fruit, but has fabulous, richly-scented waxy flowers at this time of year.  Some years, it looks a bit sad by now, but actually, this year, it is looking pretty good for having spent the winter in a cold hall next to the glass of the back door. Twining it’s way round it, is a desert climber that I grew from seed last year, Maurandya antirhiniflora, or the Snapdragon Vine.  It hasn’t flowered for me yet, but I hope it will this year.  Much though I would like the trumpet-shaped flowers to be of the magenta variety, judging from what Las Pilitas says, you can start with either magenta or blue, and then the plant will change it’s mind.  Ah well.  Whatever colour it is, is ok with me.

Maurandya antirhiniflora twining into the orange tree, Tostat, April 2016

And back to yesterday, and my ambition to show more of the garden, here is the Pigshed View.  The pigshed, which is empty, and holds wood for chopping can be seen, but more importantly, as the rain is still promised, the blossom on the quince trees front and back in the view, and the beginning of cherry blossom in the middle, is really lovely right now.

Pigshed View, Tostat, April 2016

Not an impatient project…

Looking west over the first new planting area, Tostat, March 2016

This new project is, unusually for me, not the product of impatience.  I am creating a sweeping extension to the gravel area which will swoop round in to an existing path and then back out again to make a matching peninsular, around the olive tree, to link up with the original peninsular that I dug out four years ago. Sounds complicated? Never mind.  It’s the planting that’s the thing, and, truthfully, I have never drawn a single plan for my own garden, using instead the trusty hosepipe method and my eyes- and a lot of walking around, scratching the chin.

I had planned to do this maybe last year, but our huge summer fete kicked that into touch as I realised I needed all the grass space for tables and dancing.  But last year, I did start off a lot of seed.  So, outside, braving the wind and rain are some things that replace dwindling stocks, and others that are new to me, such as Patrinia scabiosifolia, Agastache ‘Tango’, Monarda fistula and Eriogonum grande var. Rubescens.  And, as a group of friends clubbed together to give me a plant fund, I lashed out at our local, and very good, nursery, Bernard Lacrouts at Sanous, and bought some good looking plants last autumn.

Practicality in the garden, Tostat, March 2016

And now you can see where idealism meets practicality.  Clearly to be seen on the other side from the first photo, is our winter washing drier.  It is there because that spot gets the most sunshine in the winter, almost 6 hours if you are lucky, and so, actually, it will stay. Shock, horror, how can this be?  Well, drying clothes is a vital winter activity, and also when we are out in the garden least. So, it does make sense to leave the drier there, and then when the summer washing lines are back in action in another part of the garden, I can close up the winter drier and maybe even lift it out of it’s socket altogether.

The new area gives me some new extensions of planting conditions too.  It will have a bone dry, stony, very free draining, full sun patch near where the olive tree  is.  There will also be a heavier soil area, with more water retention and some dappled shade from the cherry tree, and quite a bit that will offer more gentle conditions that bridge the very dry and the heavier soil.  So this gives lots of room for variable planting.

So, for the bone dry, stony area, I am planning a sweep of Perovskia atriplicifola ‘Lacey Blue’ which I bought as small plants last autumn.   This is new to me, a compact form of Russian lavender, with a long flowering season and good grey-green foliage.  Together with this, I am going to try some Anchusa italica ‘Dropmore’, which I bought as seed from the totally excellent Seedaholic site.   Anchusa likes Mediterranean conditions so this should work well, and I have six good looking small plantlets grown from seed last summer waiting in the open barn.  The deeper blue of the Anchusa should really spice up the lavender blue of the Perovskia.

Perovskia atriplicifolia ‘Lacey Blue’, Tostat, September 2015

And then, because I love yellow and blue together, I might mix in some Coreopsis ‘Crème Brûlée’, also bought as a small plant last autumn, now much bigger, so I can split it and have two for the price of one. The Coreopsis will want to be in a slightly moister place than the Perovskia and the Anchusa, so can come further over towards the cherry tree but still in full sun.

Coreopsis ‘Crème Brûlée’, Tostat, September 2015

And last autumn, I was beguiled by the dusky charms of Salvia x jamensis ‘Nachtvlinder’.  This tough, bushy Salvia will love being planted at the hot edge of the gravel area, and, with it’s dark purple/blue flowers and bright green, glossy foliage, it will enjoy the dry, hot conditions.

Salvia x jamensis ‘Nachtvlinder’, Tostat, September 2015

And to weave in and out, while my small plants are bulking up, I am going to plant some  drifts of Liatris spicata.  I have this liatris elsewhere in the garden, and I love the feathery foliage and loobrush shaped flowers.  It is a very tolerant plant, growing from walnut-sized bulbs in a matter of weeks.  I wouldn’t ever bother buying it as a potted plant.  The bulbs are really cheap, and they come through to flowering in a season, and will last for several years, but probably not for ever.  I got 120 bulbs from Lidl for less than 3 euros, so even if some are duffers,  there will still be plenty to plant.  Here it is, in the gravel area in 2013.

Liatris spicata, Tostat, July 2013

It is also pretty gorgeous in white, too.  Now, I just have to wait for the very cold rain and wind to stop, so that I can get planting.  Now, this is where impatience does come into it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think I am a colour confused gardener…

Opium poppy self-seeded, Tostat, June 2015

You see, I look at this flowerhead this morning, scream with delight, fetch witnesses and the camera. and, immediately, I feel refreshed, thankful and overall delighted.  It is partly the sheer exuberance of the royal red colour, and partly the fact that the flowers have such fleeting lives, a few hours or less of wind or rain knocks them out.

It’s a self-seeded opium poppy from seed that my good friend, Jane who lives in Shropshire, gave me, and we did brilliantly with them about 3 years ago, and then hit a duff patch of soaking wet Springs which, I thought, had polished off the possibility of opium poppies in the garden.  More seed, and 2 years later, and this year, maybe the wet February and then hot 2 weeks at the end of May as a combination?, we have really enjoyed them.  Most have been pale mauve or raspberry ripple coloured, but this one is a knockout punch. Fantastic.

And then I look at the minimalist white of the only flower on my baby Gardenia jasminoides ‘Kleim’s Hardy’, which couldn’t be more simple and virginal, and all of a sudden, I love Scandinavian minimalism and dream of Ulf Nordfjell and his garden at Chelsea a few years back. Mind you, I can’t smell anything from it!  I know I don’t have the best nose, but maybe I am the only person with a non-fragrant Gardenia!

Gardenia jasminoides ‘Kleim’s Hardy’, Tostat, June 2015

Nordfjell garden, Chelsea 2009

I think that I just have to accept that with plant-aholism comes the split personality requirements of fabulous colour and cooling minimalism, and that my garden has touches of both, and probably all the combinations/variations in between. And in that sense, it is not a design achievement, in the same way as I would like to think of my client work.  It’s a personal garden, with what I love in it, from all parts of the colour spectrum and also suiting various different growing environments, for which experience I am very lucky. And maybe, you know, I would forever be changing, developing, trying new things, in other words, tinkering even if I did think that design was the most important thing.

Enough rumination. On with the practicalities…

Eupatorium capillifolium ‘Elegant Feather’, Tostat, June 2015

The thing you want to look at in the above photograph is the feathery-leaved plant, which is now in its second year in this spot. The spot is west-facing so gets a lot of heat later in the day, but is also relatively moist, as I suspect there is a spring nearby just keeping the soil on the fresh side.  We have many small springs, as we found when our plumber did some dowsing for us, the garden is peppered with them.  This plant,  which seems to really like it here, is Eupatorium capiliifolium ‘Elegant Feather’ and has a a bit of a chequered history. as often is the case, I fell in love with the ‘idea’ of the plant when I was researching planting possibilities for my design diploma, and so, when I found it at a local nursery last year, I bought first one, then another three a few months later.

The very knowledgable Bernard Lacrouts, a fantastic nursery at Sanous, just outside Vic en Bigorre, said that it wasn’t a surefire plant, often succumbing in the winter to one thing or another.  Well, two did bite the dust, and a third has been removed to a pot for hospital care till it recovers. But the original one, though slow to get going in the late Spring, is doing fine in its west-facing spot. So, a partial loss or success depending on how you look at it. But it is a very unusual and lovable plant- just these columns of vibrant green, feathery foliage, and completely upright, so it makes a good contrast with almost anything else. I daren’t move it, but I will move the planting around it and put in something more becoming next year.

Malvastrum lateritium, Tostat, June 2015

And this was such a lovely surprise. Malvastrum lateritium is an amazingly enthusiastic ground cover plant for semi-shaded areas, I bought three small plants in the Spring, and they are all romping away, covering an area of about 1.5.m x 1.5m.  It looks a bit like a ground-creeper, but then the flowers turn out to be so exotic.  Apricot coloured with a reddish flush at the centre, so pretty and should flower till the first frosts.