Saturday, 27 April 2019

Firsts!




.






Here's six firsts in my garden.

On a Saturday, of course.







1.  Alocasia Polly

Earlier in the week, this appeared in my Alocasia, which lives happily in the bathroom.



Little green hoodlum.

I've not had Polly a year, so this was definitely a first.  Then a few days later . . .


Unassuming beauty.

The little guy's overshadowed by those gaudy leaves, but I like him anyway.


2.  Germinating go-slow.

This is my first year growing ricinus.  Three weeks after planting - nothing, so I planted a new tray.  Then the very next day in the old tray . . .


Castor cometh.

And a coupla days after that.


Now there are two.

Twice the seeds planted.  Of this great, gargantuan jungle monster.  I don't think they're gonna fit in my garden.


3.  Rogue clematis.

A few years ago, we lived next door to this rampaging pink clematis that self seeded round other folks' gardens, & left chillen in one of my pots.

Well, this year the offspring bloomed for the first time & it's something better'n pink.



Clematis surprise.

The blooms are the size of a 50p coin.  When this vine gets serious about flowering, it'll be stunning.

Here's the back of the bloom . . .


Little pink stripes.

. . . and the bud.


Striped candy.

Ain't she great?


4.  Dog pool.

This year, I'm 'naturalising' Mlle DoodleFace's pool (i.e. making it less ugly) - perennials on the outside, water lilies on the inside.

There's a bamboo shaft in the pond, a sort of life raft for smaller pool visitors.  This week, I planted the part that sticks out of the water.


Bamboo life raft garden.

The section closest to the water has creeping Jenny in it.  I'd seen it used in a floating garden & the creeping Jenny spread across the water.  The top of the bamboo is planted with this succulent looking stuff:


Purloined plant, name unknown.

The blossoms will open into a daffodil yellow.

I discovered its ancestor when we lived next to the pink clematis.  The succulent grew in about half an inch of soil on a rock at our pond edge, which makes me think it could survive the shallow bamboo planter.


5.  Camassia

This is my first year growing camassia.  It's had the misfortune of being consigned to the fox garden, that site of much dog destruction.  Even so, it's strutting its stuff.


Camassia beginning to open.

It's supposed to bloom in June, but with so much trouble in this bed, early thriving is recommended.


6.  Anemone

These were an end of season sale item, bought last year when I knew we were moving.  I stuck them in the planter with Big Daddy Hosta, so they got a bit man handled once they arrived here.


Anemone coronaria Bordeaux

And still they bloom.  They also close up in the avoe, making me wonder if I'll see them again the next day.  So far, I have, which is good news.  Love their pretty faces.  Hope they spread like a certain rapacious clematis.




Bertha.


That's my Six for the week. 

Don't forget to drop in on the Spring Bulb King who still has quite a good display going.  In his comments section, you'll find links to other SoS bloggers from literally all around the world.

Thanks for stopping by.  Until next time, you take care of yourself, you hear?






Saturday, 20 April 2019

Green Grows The . . .




That new-leaf red.



For the first time in a lot of years, we have a north* facing garden.

Same gardener, same plants, better results.  And I'm loving it.

* correction - my garden's actually south facing. Thanks, Joshua Johnson, for showing me my error.





1.  Honey berry (lonicera caerulea).

This is its 3rd summer with us, & it's always been a bit of a runt.  It got lifted & stuck in this pot for the move, but the way it's looking, all dolled up in blossoms, it doesn't seem to miss being planted in the ground.



Perky honey.

Here's a close look at those blooms.


Honey berry bloom.

Little sparks of glee that hopefully'll give me a handful of berries.


2.  Be thar slugs?

Our last garden had permanent boggy spots - even during 2018's drought - making it a slug & snail heaven.  I don't know if that same drought decimated the population in this garden, but take a look at Big Daddy Hosta.


Good enough to eat.

Daddy's copper rings are still in the packet, so every morning I expect to find him & the brunnera devoured during the night.  Not yet, not yet.

This is my first time using copper - anyone have any tales to tell?


3.  Gillenia

In the same bed, Ms Gillenia's auditioning for a horror movie.


Little scarlet arms reaching out of their grave.

Nothing chomped on her last year, so hopefully she'll remain as unappetising as ever.


4.  Some pests come with you when you move.

A gardener I follow on Twitter swears this stuff keeps her family cats out of her plants.


And cat's enemy.

You can see how effective it was in my garden.


Under dog construction.

From what I can tell, the cat only visits a tiny corner behind the metal fox.  The carnage is from a certain canine trying to get to that little doggy delectable.  This bed's surrounded with obstacles that keep our geriatric dog out, but not Mlle DoodleFace.


5.  Living the fantasy.

The water lilies have arrived & with them, my ambition to tart up the dog's pool.


Aliens in a ziplock baggy.

They got planted a couple of days ago, & DoodleFace doesn't seem to know they exist.  Fingers crossed.


6.  Bugle buds.

Last year, my single bugle weed didn't make it out of the planter.  Well, you know how that stuff likes to spread its toes.  Where there was one shy little thang, now there are three behemoths.

Growing in every direction, up & out.

Some of you asked that I keep you posted on how my lasagna no-dig beds worked out.  Everything in this week's Six that's not in a pot (or dog pond), is in a lasagna.  And in the bugle weed's case, a lasagna not yet finished.  The trick is making it deep enough.  And maybe, having a north facing garden.



For the edification of Jim Stephens.
How did I not see this tag,
all these long weeks?




So there's my Six on Saturday.  Be sure to visit our Hammock Hero who's got some tulip heaven going on in his patch.  There's also links in his comment section to other SoSers from all over God's green earth.  Don't miss it!

Thanks for stopping by.



Saturday, 13 April 2019

Jasmine for Six on Saturday




Have I told you about my favourite cherry tree? No?


No sensible person buys plants a few months before moving, but that's what I did this past autumn.  Those end-of-season sales, they make me giddy.

In addition to the weigela-labelled stick mentioned last week, I also bought a coupla jasmine (& maybe a few other things).

I'd never had odoriferous jasmine before!




1.  The bed's ready.

The jasmine were a stunning burgundy when they arrived, perfect for the wisteria trellis in our new garden.  Though the wisteria itself is still too young to bloom, the contrasting foliage would look great together, plus all those jasmine scented ingresses & egresses through the back gate.


Wisteria trellis at the ready.


2.  I thought there were only two . . .

Somewhere between old garden & new, though, the pair of jasmine turned into 3 pots of woody plants with dark red elliptic leaves.  Both my memory & my receipts said there should be two.

Was there cuckoo in the mix?



Clematis & cuckoo.

In the end, the alleged jasmine in a slightly wider pot got planted with a rogue clematis at the back door, the expectation being that a jasmine scented patio would follow.


3. Jasmine Red Leaf.

Then the wisteria jasmine started looking not-so-great.


After planting

Death didn't seem imminent, so perhaps research could prevent a jasmine murder.  Or two.


4. First bloom.

At least the clematis jasmine had buds.  But when the first one opened . . .


Cuckoo in the nest.

That is no jasmine.


5.  The tag.

It looked like a magenta witch hazel blossom.  Which, come to think of it, was exactly my thought on the loropetalum tag photo.


Cuckoo ID.

And that tag was actually attached to . . .


6.  Another end-of-season sale stick.

. . . sitting on the stump to remind me to check it for signs of life.  Of which, so far, there have been none.


Not a loropetalum.


How it got the loropetalum tag on it, or even what this stick really is - anybody's guess.


Turning green.


And, of course, now I know that these particular jasmines are burgundy only in the winter.  Plant murder avoided.



Out w/daffs, in w/tulips.








So now that my place as most well informed SoSer is confirmed, tarry on over to Big Boss Man's blog for his Six & links in his comment section to other Six on Saturday blogs from around the world.

Thanks for stopping by!

Saturday, 6 April 2019

Natives Return



Mr BigNose & a puffkin.










As I've been organising my new flower beds, the plants themselves have quietly got on with things.

Here's six old friends who came back while I was otherwise occupied.











1.  Chocolate vine (akebia quinata).

This vine came to live with me 2 years ago & didn't bloom its first year.  Last year seemed an interminable wait for the blooms, which were few & underwhelming.  Then this week, on my way to somewhere else in the garden, I noticed it blooming with gusto.


Small & plenty.

The blossoms still leave me unimpressed, but I love the foliage & hope it eventually takes over the world.  Or the potting shed.


2.  Louis Bonne.

Pears are one of my favourite fruits & last year, when Louis produced for the 1st time, I did nothing to contain my joy.  That lasted until my first bite - the fruits themselves were small & not that great for taste.

While this may've had to do with last year's drought, I heartlessly decided to FreeCycle Louis.  This meant wrenching him out of his planter (which I didn't want to give away), but there were other things in the garden I needed to do first.

So he bloomed behind my back.


Stay of eviction.

I've not seen another pear around, so the likelihood of fruit is slim.  However, he's a beautiful little tree, no less so than the ornamental plum & cherry I have.

I think he'll be staying.


3.  Carolina Spice.

On the other side of the garden, we have our Carolina Spice bushes, only one of which has ever bloomed.  It's covered in buds at the moment.


Leaves & bud nuggets.

I played under a Carolina spice as a girl, & to me, it was the most exotic plant I knew, with that smell of foods that were never cooked in our house & its burgundy velvet blossoms. 

It was the one & only spice bush I'd encountered until a few years ago when I saw them advertised in some catalogue or the other.  Being greedy, I got 2.

The bush of childhood was well established when my parents moved us there.  Put 50 - 60 years of horticultural development plus an ocean between that bush & my current ones, & the smells aren't even remotely the same.

The fallibility of my memory aside, I've read that today's spice bushes, at least on this continent, tend toward a sweeter scent, some even smelling like bubblegum.

Boggles the mind.


4.  Weigela sale.

I do have a soft spot for weigela.  So much so that last autumn, I bought a weigela-labelled stick during an end-of-season sale.

Fast forward to planting the shade garden this spring, I move a pot of forget-me-nots out of the way, wondering why in God's name I'd have a pot of forget-me-nots.  May as well have a pot of dandelions.

And then I saw them, weigela leaves doing their wake-up stretch through the forget-me-nots.


Weigela-nots.

Better believe this sassy lady's gonna soon be outa that pot & pushing her roots into the soil.


5.  Nigella.

I've actually had my eye on this bud for a while, wondering if it would hang around for weeks, bit of a tease.



Here she comes!

As you can see, this bud is more than promises, promises.


6.  Brunnera macrophylla

The brunnera, patientlly waiting its turn to be planted in the shade garden, has gone hog wild with blossoms.

The tiny leaves of brunnera macrophylla.

Last year was the first year we had it in the garden, so hopefully I'll be forgiven for not remembering if its leaves were this small when it bloomed, or if it's because poor brunnera was still in a pot.

She's been released into the shade bed since that photo was taken, so we'll see what happens next.



I once knew the name of this, but no more.




Now that you've read my Six on Saturday, go over to Our Guiding Light, the man who cracks the SoS whip.  He'll have his own Six to amaze you, plus links in his comment section to SoS blogs from around the world.

Thanks for stopping by!