Russian roulette…

Some of it still looks like this, Tostat, July 2017

Yes.  Some of it still looks like this, but an awful lot of it doesn’t- as in ‘toasted’.  Of course, I am the one heralding the new dawn of ‘summer-dry’ gardening, whilst at the same time bemoaning the dried out, crisp-like state of what I see in my own garden.  It just goes to show that changing the aesthetic, changing the way you see things, ain’t so easy.  In my logical, rational head, I know that everything I see roasted in front of me will re-grow next year, and that I get another year of grace to find a better balance between growing plants and weeds, between plants that thrive in hot,dry conditions and those that don’t.  But emotionally, it’s a bit on the gutting side- and that’s me indulging in British under-estimation and stiff-upper-lipness.  Humbug.  So, roll on the day that my book bought at vast expense from the US Ebay arrives, and helps me work this all out.  Should be arriving this week.

So, there is only one thing to do. Indulge in the Russian Roulette of growing new things from seed for next year- you can tell that being a glutton for punishment is a personal trait.  So, I thought I would cheer myself up by writing about what I am trying out and why, and I might finish with a couple of very cheering photos from my friend, Colin the photographer.

Centaurea cyanara ‘Black Boy’ seeds, Tostat, July 2017

These did make me smile an hour ago.  Looking for all the world like a miniature group of upmarket shaving brushes, these tiny seeds have just gone in a tray.  A few words about growing from seed might not go amiss.  Not that I am in a position to claim expertise here, but I am improving year on year.

First off, I use trays that I buy on Ebay, sometimes they have to be smuggled in in hand luggage if the postage costs are exorbitant.  Then I use a purpose-made seed compost.  I could make my own, but getting good-sized grit is a problem here, and so I don’t.  I haven’t got a bigger tray to soak them in, so once the compost is in, I spray heftily with a mister, leave the tray for 15 minutes or so so that any excess drips out, and then I sow or sprinkle finely depending on the size of the seed.  The main thing is to make sure that the seeds have contact with the moist seed compost- so push them lightly or cover with a fine layer of aquarium grit, the only thing (very pricey!) that I have found that is fine enough for this.

Then I mist again, and leave them in a place with a constant temperature of around 20C- which works for most seeds I find.  This can be outdoors in the covered barn just now or on a bedroom windowledge if earlier or later in the year.  Then you wait, and develop your patience muscle.  Annuals might pop in a week, perennials can take much much longer and be erratic.  But the first sight of a little green something or other pushing through the grit is such a thrill.  You can tell I don’t get out much.

So what am I trying this year?  Well, the appearance of a stray Centaurea cynara ‘Black Boy’ in a strange place earlier this summer, so maybe not down to me, reminded of what a pretty thing it is.  Chiltern Seeds are one of my favourites.

Centaurea cynara ‘Black Boy’ photo credit: http://www.graines-baumaux.fr

Also from Chiltern Seeds came Linaria vulgaris.  I think that this could really work for me, tough, undemanding sun-lover for poor soil, and I fell for it at the Ludlow Food Centre.

Linaria vulgaris and Stipa tennuissima, Ludlow Food Centre, June 2017

I can’t quite remember why I liked the look of this, but I thought, well, why not?  Silene laciniata ‘Jack Flash’ seemed like a good idea to take over when the Dianthus deltoides ‘Flashing Light’ has finished, so for less than the price of a cuppa….from Thompson and Morgan.

Silene laciniata ‘Jack Flash’ photo credit: http://www.saemereien.ch

Penstemon digitalis ‘Husker Red’ comes from Nebraska/Missouri and is supposed to be really up for wet, cold winters and hot, humid summers- now this might mean that we don’t have enough water in the summer, but I am giving it a go.  I like it’s style, dark foliage and pale, luminous flowers.  The RHS like it for pollinators, tick.  Seed from Thompson and Morgan again.

Penstemon digitalis ‘Huskers Red’ photo credit: http://www.crocus.co.uk

And lastly, Cephalaria gigantea– which I raved about in a recent post about Kiftsgate. I saw it amazingly upright despite fierce wind and rain, and so, although it runs the risk of being decked, I am going to try.  Of course, all of this may come to nought, but equally, I could end up with 20 good plants of each.  Let’s stay positive.

Cephalaria gigantea, Kiftsgate Court, June 2017

Leaving you with some colour….my friend Colin, the photographer, has been out and about in Gloucestershire at Cotswold Lavender.

 

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

 

 

The story of the ‘Women’s Tree’

Vitex agnus castus against a blue August sky, Tostat, 2016

There is a small, spreading tree which I grow on Shitty Bank next to the ruisseau.  When I planted it there 9 years ago, it probably only measured about 0.5m high.  Now, it is a magnificent, spreading, but also delicate, small tree, up to maybe 4m high and wide,  that flowers abundantly in July- September, sending strong shoots of flowersprays out at an angle from the trunk of the tree.  These lilac, mid-blue flower sprays are a magnet for bees, butterflies and other insects- almost as popular with them as the more traditional buddleia.  It copes very well with heat and dryness, but it also loves to be close to water, which is why the plant near the ruisseau is bigger and bolder than the one planted elsewhere in a drier spot.  It’s name?  Vitex agnus castus.

Vitex in the landscape of Shitty Bank, with close neighbour, Rosa chinensis ‘Mutabilis’ and Veronicastrum virginicum ‘Lavendelturm’ in the foreground, Tostat, August 2016

But, I have always been intrigued by it’s many common names, such as ‘The Chaste Tree’, or in Germany, ‘The Monk’s Pepper Tree’.  I am indebted to Christopher Hobbs, whose site is a mine of interesting detail, but to summarise, this small tree has been used medicinally from the earliest times.  The ancients revered the small, hard, dark fruits which were taken in the form of a tincture or drink made from the more concentrated fruits or new leaves, according to Pliny.  It was used to treat women suffering from menstrual or menopausal hormone imbalance and discomfort- and, interestingly, for men who wished to calm their sexual appetites, hence the name ‘Monk’s Pepper’.  However, Christopher Hobbs quotes a well known 19th century, French herbalist, Cazin, who took the view that the treatment was more likely to arouse passions than calm them!

An early flowering sprig, Tostat, July 2016

In the garden, it slowly opens up from tight, woolly grey buds into individual florets that last for weeks.  It’s ability to weave through other plants and not be too dominant is a big asset for the smaller garden.  It has proved very hardy with me, reliably holding on through -10C for a fortnight, for example, but I suspect that, despite liking to be close to water, it would be excessive winter wet that might make it turn up its toes.  So, free draining soil, a slope or added grit would handle that. And it has no need for rich soil, and probably, the thinner and rockier the better.  It is not a fast or showy grower, but here in Tostat, it is a stalwart of the late summer bulge when the scene can look pretty tired by August until September rains kick in.  This year has really tested that point.

A companion plant, which is not well known but should be for those of us with difficult, hot situations is Elsholtzia stauntonii.  Successfully posing as a normal shrub or shrublet, this tough plant in fact can cope with any amount of dryness and hot sun, and, with me, returns reliably on deceptively fragile looking stems each late Spring.  In fact, beware: the fragile stems can look very like a spot of couchgrass or weed, so remember where you put it!  A very good blog article on habit and with good photographs is available here at Robert Pavlis’ Garden Fundamentals.  I read about it on Annie’s Annuals emailing and grew mine from seed about 4 years ago, and in the toughest position, they are doing fine, now about 1m tall and flowering soon.   It takes it’s time to grow, but given how much harshness it can take, it has all the lush, green foliage you would expect of a woodlander.

And outside, the garden fries at 36C, the return of the Spanish plume, and no rain forecast of any note.  As for me, I am indoors.

Elsholtzia stauntonii, flowering in September last year, Tostat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In praise of the Hardy Plant Society…

This January I joined the Hardy Plant Society. Really quickly, they sent me a couple of journals and special issues magazines, and then, about a month later, I received packets of seed through the post with a very kind note saying that as I joined at the beginning of the year, I had missed the seed catalogue, and so they had made a selection for me and were enclosing them. I was really surprised and very delighted.

I had decided to join pretty much once I had made my mind up that I was not going to let the automatic renewal for the RHS go through again in the summer. To be honest, although I am sure the readership is immensely complex to serve, I find the magazine irritating and oldfashioned, and as I am here and not in the UK, the other obvious ‘gardens open’ opportunities don’t really work for me. And the HPS is a very modest £17- so there’s more dosh to put towards plants!  So, this year, my Seed Central is half filled with the HPS seeds that they sent me.

Seed Central, Tostat, May 2015

Seed Central is located in our open barn, along with the cars, the gubbins for the swimming pool, and masses of junk. It is open at one end so sometimes the seedlings do a lot of leaning, but it is a good place, cool, gets the sun in the morning, and the only downside is that if we have a West wind, it tends to whistle through the door from the back garden over the seed trays. So, you need to pick calm days for seed sowing.

An old shutter tastefully mounted on concrete blocks holds the seedlings to the right, and an nearly-dead table was revived to form the seed germination side to the left. So, though it might not meet the most exacting requirements, it works fine for me.  So, front right, you can see Lychnis chalcedonica ‘Salmonea’ or Salmonella, as the great Bob Brown (good piece by Sarah Raven introducing him) of Cotswold Garden Flowers calls it. I haven’t grown this before, and it is a risk as it is clearly salmon-y ( not always my favourite) but HPS sent me the seed and so I am trying it.  Here is a photo from HPS of this Lychnis.

Lychnis chalcedonica ‘Salmonea’
credit: http://www.hardy-plant.org.uk

It is salmon-y but not too much and sounds like a ‘doer’ as long as butchered.

Further in, front right, are the fingery seedlings of Calandrinia umbellata ‘Ruby Tuesday’, a Californian purslane, that I am trying. I saw a calandrinia on Annies’s Annuals a while back, and then found this variety available as seed, and it has all germinated and made good happy plantlets. It is a small, romping groundcover for hot, dry spots, and is usually treated as an annual because it may not make it through a damp winter, but I have so many that I will try it outside and also keep a few in pots indoors. it looks fabulous, tough and shocking pink…The link above takes you to Chiltern Seeds, where I bought mine, a great seed catalogue and a splendid winter read. Here is how I hope it will look…

Calandrinia umbellata ‘Ruby Tuesday’
credit: http://www.chilternseeds.co.uk

And what you can’t see, because they are tiny, are nearly 80 seedlings of Panicum virgatum ‘Emerald Chief’. Great success to have succesfully got 80 thus far, but that success masks a not-so-good picture.  I am growing them because I ripped out a long lavender hedge, yes, I know, it was lovely but I had failed to prune it properly and it was in a sorry state. So, I will have a modernist tall standing row of Panicum, which I can’t possibly mess up, instead of my lavender. Cruel, but practical.  And I think it will look great, if no scent. Great seed once again from Seedaholic.

Panicum virgatum ‘Emerald Chief’
credit: http://www.seedaholic.com