We went into self-isolation before the lock down (a friend got sick), so're old pros at this stage. The streets are quiet, pets are delighted, & our spirits are mostly good.
Yesterday, though, that one sad story too many came up in my Twitter feed.
Get thee behind me, Social Media, & out the door I went to find the lawn had been mowed by some kind family member. They even circumvented the crocus foliage.
1. Birthday rose.
Before our self-isolation, I had yet another birthday. I've had so many already, but can't give them up as I do love cake. So came the rose in a tiny zebra planter - 2 blooms, 1 bud. (Unmown grass apparent in background.)
This week, it got a bigger pot.
Both flowers've gone & the bud's starting to open. (And lawn nicely mowed.)
2. Great expectations.
This dead stick cost £1.79, but I've got high hopes for it.
Two years ago, there I was, an old blow-in who'd never heard of a Tamarix tree. Then this beautiful pink thing started flirting with me over the fence & ye SoSers willingly provided the requisite introduction. Just goes to show, you're never too old for love. Or perhaps obsession.
I got a couple of other things in the Tamarix sale, so the nursery offered me a choice of begonia or lavender as a free gift. Begonias are coming out of my ears, so . . .
. . . what the hell am I going to do with 8 lavender plants?
4. O my mahonia.
Last autumn, I found 2 mahonia seedlings when I cleaned up the pumpkin patch. After getting potted up, one took off like a barn on fire. The other looked like this. Ok, it's dead, but I didn't want to pull it up & officially murder it.
So I brought it inside, sowed nicotina seeds in the pot (seen above). If you look very closely, you'll also see . . .
. . . there's new growth coming up from the mahonia's middle stem.
5. Volunteer clematis.
This clematis self seeded in one of my tree pots a couple of years ago. Last year, it graduated to its own pot & had 2-3 flowers on it. I was ridiculously excited about it.
This year, a lot more buds. I am giddy for the show.
6. Anemone coronaria The Bride.
I stole Sarah Raven's suggested planting of a. coronaria The Bride with a. blanda White Splendour . . .
. . . but added grape hyacinth to the mix. Unfortunately, only about half The Brides came up, none of White Splendour. The grape hyacinth are knocking it out of the park, though.
So, please imagine, if you will, all those empty spaces filled with large & small white anemone blooms.
|Anemone coronaria Bordeaux, puckering up for a smooch.|
That's it for this week. I hope all of you stay well & haven't had to kill off any housemates as yet. May they do nice things for you in the garden instead.
Thanks for stopping by. Hope to see you again soon.