The archway into the garden provides a structural focal point, but our actual wisteria plant is overgrown and needs a lot of hard pruning. July or August is the next recommended time according to the RHS and should give us more flowers next year.
Violas and verbena have been tried here. Verbena’s like a tall, gnarly-stemed, lemon-scented herb with underwhelming purple flowers, and pansies are violas by another name. Get snippy you pedants while my eyes are on the prize of X, Y and Z and I will shout very loudly for five whole months. Actually, I have another sin, on top of impatience, to confess. This one didn’t actually get carried out, but the intention was there.
When the verbena here failed (got gobbled up by the box hedge bushes, red robin bushes, the cherry blossom, wisteria, jasmine, Oh! and the Boston Ivy and the Glasnevin Climbing Potato Plant that was bought in Limerick – can’t quite think of its name now, it was developed in Dublin’s Botanic Gardens so it’s called Glasnevin? – but, yes, we’re still saying the verbena failed not me). Anyway, I happened to notice that the county council had planted swathes of it in flowerbeds just outside the town, probably as part of the Tidy Towns effort. Knowing I could no more grow it from seed than I could have from my own plant, I planned a midnight heist, where I don balaclavas and dark clothing and with a dirty old shovel ‘acquire’ a few replacements. I’ve shelved those plans for now.
Another of the plants tried in that flower bed was Hollyhock. I’d forgotten that till I read the Fred Whitsey piece in the British Daily Telegraph about verbascum. Both he and one of his muses Vita Sackville West found these tall spires of color charming enough to promote their use outside of cottage gardens. It’s been a very long time now (at least five years) since I had to dig out the Hollyhock, so maybe it’s time to consider a verbascum instead.
Has anyone else noticed that I’m still using terminology that suggests I’m going to have time to be gardening at all during this summer? I’m now committed to studying in Dublin Business School and doing Jobbridge exercises till September at least – so where the time to sort out the garden is going to materialize from God only knows….
This plant is unmentionable. Its petals are said to look like Lion’s Teeth – dents de lion – but the sunny petals aren’t the problem. The tap roots are the bit that drive me crazy, they’re incredibly tenacious. Oh! And I’m not too happy about those flying seeds either. Yes. My other name is killjoy.
However, you may like to pop over to horticulture guru’s Sheryl Normandeau’s blog for her take on the ubiquitous urospermum.
What class of a cabbage is a telekia speciosa?
Etes-vous Belge de Bruxelles? Or perhaps a burgher from Bruges? If, like me, you tend to wonder what class of a cabbage is that mon chou, this Belgian botanical website will make you smile. It shows the prettiness of telekia speciosa – a spiky flower you could consider instead of a sunflower or cactus dahlia – and where it’s been sprouting lately.
Tilth is a darlin’ word that you’ll rarely get to use. When you’ve dug over your soil about three times, removed the bigger stones, the old unwanted roots, forked through some fertilizer, and battered the clay clumps into a friable tilth by also possibly adding some sand, your new bed is ready for planting. Himself, being a smart mouth, would suggest doing all this digging in winter when the frost will break up the clay clumps for you and maybe kill the newly overturned unwanted tap roots and dormant seeds too. The friable tilth is the crumbly texture of soil and sand that’s aerated and moist.
There’s an earlier post on the tulips we have from double earlies to parrot (frilly) versions here.
Tulip: double earlies
Tulips: about a foot tall, that are next to the fritillaries
The sage flowers aren’t cut, I never think to put them in posies to give as gifts, so perhaps that’s why it has flourished to the size of a small shrub (not quite the size of the lavender hedge) but about two feet high and wide. Obviously, its leaves are cut roughly about once a week as they’re used in the kitchen.
Sedum is the succulent-leaved plant that most people recommend to cover flat rooves for a ‘living’ roof. Although there’s someone on the road from Donabate village to the strand that has grass growing on theirs (if you time your visit carefully you could see someone up there with a rotary blade lawnmower). Yes. I have a very idiosyncratic idea of the seven wonders of the world. 🙂