I'm sitting here at my desk staring out at this...
The greenhouse swaddled and bandaged up in a valiant attempt to protect it from Storm Erik and any more Big Freezes, us having been a little too late to defend against the ravages of Storm Whatever-The-Last-One-Was. The door shunted ajar and the gale took out several of the back windows, now repaired. It's not so much the repairing, nuisance though it is, it's more the equation of number of pieces of glass x distance travelled across the grass = infinity. 'Someone' puts the gloves on and goes over it with a fine tooth comb and a bin liner whilst thinking about the twelve paws that live here and the vet's bill for their repair.
Anyway, before this late night bandaging session I sensibly nipped in and watered my sweet peas, sown in October because they are streaking away...
I've discovered something called a Solstice variety, apparently less reliant on hours of daylight before they will flower so I'm hoping for some early joy. I'm a martyr to them mind you, pinching out, staking, covering with thermal fleece and generally cossetting them along into spring. But it will be worth it won't it...
A Garden From a Hundred Packets of Seeds by James Fenton, and published by Notting Hill Editions in one of their beautiful linen-bound pocket-sized books, arrived at exactly the right moment and I am very grateful to them for sending it along for my perusal.
Do you know the moment...
The one when your mind suddenly starts thinking about garden plans for the coming year.
Whilst the perennials are doing nicely and plenty is now self-seeding I have a long herbaceous border to fill and there's nothing like a few annuals.
Remember my endeavours to persuade Aquilegia to like it here. Almost at weed-proportions in the cottage garden we left behind to move here twenty-five years ago, but somehow a little reluctant to set down roots again. My diligence paid off, in fact James Fenton may have hit the nail on the proverbial with this...
'What really gets a regular garden going is not so much a plan as a craze, or a series of overlapping crazes. And when we are in the grips of a craze, we want to know everything there is to be known about a plant...'
You have all been at the mercy of my flower crazes over the years... Chrysanthemums, Marigolds, Poppies, Sunflowers, Sweet Peas, and I am grateful for the indulgence and the advice, as well as the seeds that arrive in the post (thank you Lesley for the dahlia seeds recently).
Last year saw my love affair with dahlias and which I fancy is not yet spent should the Peter Nyssen catalogue arrive in the post. The dahlia bed, established by the Tinker, is currently swathed in a very thick layer of mulch and we hope enjoying the rest. This Arbatex won a first in the Village Show, we have standards to maintain.
The Aquilegia are now hither and yon, though as predicted some of the special varieties ( a result of the craze) have morphed into also-rans, But they are still the prettiest flower and a joy to see in April and May.
Likewise Honesty which flatly refused to do anything where I sowed the seeds, but mysteriously appeared across the other side of the garden, around the steps to the summer house, where I hadn't sown any at all, and then colonised with no help whatsoever...
Incidentally, the summer house (and the breathtaking views from same) will be available for our Tinker's Cott guests to use. It's an idyllic spot with a seating area behind and uninterrupted views of the Tamar Valley, and it would be sad not to share it.
And so I settled down with A Garden From a Hundred Packets of Seeds and started making lists. Nodding my head sagely in agreement with James Fenton at the plants I recognised and had grown...
No 71 : P.somniferum, which comes in so many forms, single and double. 'Black Peony' is the one I would choose...'
Maybe you remember that single packet of 'Black Peony' seed I bought at the Lost Gardens of Heligan a few years ago...
They were bloomin' marvellous. The best thing was watching them unfurl from their buds each day. I collected seeds from the dried heads, shared them around with friends in their Christmas cards that year, but sadly my sowings came to nought the next year. I'm going to try again because I discovered a better method with poppies last year. Seeds randomly strewn around the garden as usual, but I also grew some in pots and planted them out. A good slosh of water in the hole first and they all thrived.
Forget "bones". Forget "structure". Forget trees, shrubs and perennials.' says James Fenton.
'This is not a book about big projects. It is about thinking your way towards an essential flower garden, by the most traditional of routes : planting some seeds and seeing how they grow.'
As well as the hundred seed suggestions, there is much to hearten here...
'A garden is not a canvas...'
'Design has become a terrible, stupid and expensive tyrant. The emphasis here is all on content. Such a flower garden should have the same beauty as an allotment. It says : This is what I feel like having this year.'
Excellent, if you come to visit us expect to see 'what I feel like having this year' along the borders.
On my list of seeds from Ben Ranyard at Higgledy Gardens will be the Earthwalker sunflowers (yes I'm going to be fighting the slugs and snails again), Cosmos in all varieties because they were stellar last year and I'd like to see drifts of blue Cornflowers too. And I’ve just sent for Ben’s Bee-Friendly Wild Flower Meadow mix (£15 post free until Sunday) because I have a hankering to create one again.
Any more suggestions very welcome...
And one more thing while I am on the subject of Notting Hill Editions...
Am I the only person not to have discovered their notebooks...
Linen-bound, ribbon marker, pocket-sized, a lined page opposite a plain page with an occasional literary quote to suit the theme of each book, because they come with a stamped cover too ...'Voyage', 'Nostalgia' or 'Epiphany'.
But back to flowering annuals...what do you recommend...
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