gardening

Six On Saturday: Wind & Sun & Hail

It’s been a week of many weathers, including a sudden heat wave on Wednesday with days of piercing winds and low temperatures either side. One day we’re in the 20s C, and the next it’s down to 9 degrees. All very confusing, although I did manage to remember to think it was time to plant the seed potatoes – Red Rooster and Charlotte. They had grown some very chunky shoots while lingering in egg boxes in the downstairs cloakroom.

Also we could have done without the gale last Saturday. More of which in a moment. But first, the garden stars of the past two weeks have been these lovely little front garden tulips, Heart’s Delight (1). They have stood up to being roasted and thrashed, but I fear they won’t last today. As I write this, we’re having a hail storm and fierce sleety gusts. Most of their petals have already blown off.

And so to last Saturday’s gale, and good bye cherry plum tree (2). It wasn’t our tree, but it gracefully filled our kitchen window view and we liked to watch it through the seasons. It also made up for the ‘horrid holly hedge’ which we acquired along with the house. On Easter Sunday we woke to this:

The tree people came this week and cut the whole thing down. They said the remaining trunk showed signs of decay and had to go. There’s no denying it: it’s left a big gap. I doubt that the housing association owners will replace it, planting space being rather limited. Here it is back in March.

We can now see the retirement home’s almond blossom tree across the road, but the immediate holly hedge view seems rather bleak and gloomy. I’m wondering about having a Japanese Maple in a big pot at the top of the old steps opposite the side window. It’s a semi-shaded, sheltered spot. It might work?

Of miniature trees (3). On a happier note, the garden’s tiny trees seem to be faring well. We don’t have a great deal of space, and although I realise shrubs generally form the ‘spine’ of a garden, I couldn’t get to grips with what to choose or where to put them. Instead, I thought of dwarf trees. The conference pear is the prettiest of them just now. It’s in a raised bed beside the potato patch.

We also have 2 dwarf eating apple trees and a little Stella cherry on the top of the terrace wall, and in the front garden, two small crab apples (Evereste and upright Laura both about to flower), and a Merrybelle Plum, which is just over.

My thinking with the little trees is that we and the pollinators have the pleasure of the spring blossom (and maybe also some fruit come autumn), but they leave lots of room for the late spring and summer show of herbaceous perennials. And if we lose sight of them for a while among the phlox, rdbeckia and Michaelmas daisies it doesn’t really matter.

About to flower – a dwarf Christmas Pearmain just visible to the left of the tulip pot.

The weather may be changeable and bitterly cold (even by English standards) but there have been plenty of sightings of butterflies: orange tips, tortoiseshells, Common Blues. I’ve also noticed bumble bees, especially in the Pulmonaria (lung wort) flowers. Diana Clare (4) with her striking silvery leaves, is a new plant bought last year, so I’m pleased to see she’s settling down, and especially after the pigeons snaffled her first leaves.

Also looking its best with lots of flowers for the insects is the creeping rosemary (5), planted a couple of years ago along the front garden wall.

And last, but not least, it’s all thanks to he who builds sheds and car ports that aren’t for cars, AKA Graham. This week he finished making me a cold frame (6). Brilliant! He’s also mended my ancestral (grandfather’s) spade whose handle broke while I was trying to excavate the whirly washing line spike that needed to go somewhere else.

All we need now is to get growing with some warmer, less windy weather. Roll on spring!

Six On Saturday April 11 2026

Feeling Blustered: Six On Saturday

1. Storm-struck

This morning at breakfast time – with a high wind whooshing about the place and rain lashing the kitchen doors, the garden definitely looked a no-go area. I could see three dozen bean canes splayed like pick-up-sticks across the top path by the greenhouse. Drat and double drat. When I dismantled the runner bean rows a week or so ago, I had forgotten to tether them securely to the hedge. I could also see the cosmos at the top of the steps being tossed about. Since late September and the onset of rainy days, it has been flowering magnificently. Now it was having its petals blown off. More curses. And I could see that the Selinum (farthest right at the wall top) which is still flowering as well as seeding, was now rearranged at a 45 degree angle.

Not a happy gardener.

Cosmos unclothed; Helianthus blown away.

And then, quite suddenly, towards midday, the rain stopped and the sun came out, although we still have a mighty blow, with now-and-then gusts that lift you off your feet.

I did a quick tour of the garden, but there was not much to be done mid-gale, apart from attempting a bit of support for the Selinum.

2: Apples

With the wind, I was expecting another heavy crop of windfalls. But when I went out to check the damage, I was pleased to see that most of our remaining apples are still clinging sturdily to their stalks. Which is good news as I already had a stack of windfalls in the kitchen. And there’s only so much apple sauce we can eat, and all the neighbours are overwhelmed with apples too and putting them out at their gates for anyone to take. However, I recently discovered an easy apple chilli chutney recipe, and so, as gardening was out, this was what happened next.

3. In love with Michaelmas daisies

I’m not expecting the late flowering flowers to survive the wind, but that won’t include the Michaelmas daisies (Symphyotrichums/Asters whatever they’re called these days). I took this photo with the wind still blowing. Only a couple of small side stems damaged.

Its neighbour, a compact little variety (I think it could be Purple Dome) has only just decided to flower:

And at the bottom of the garden this tall white bushy version, White Ladies maybe, and…

…Aster x frikatii Monch have been flowering since the hot days of summer:

4. Great Dixter Nursery

And so like Jim, I’ve been doing some plant buying. I have recently discovered that Great Dixter House and Gardens has an online plant shop. They sell some very lovely plants (1 and 2 litre sizes) at very reasonable prices. That’s where I found Patrinia as featured in an earlier SoS. And it’s where I also found ‘Symphyotrichum Les Moutiers’ which is now planted in my front garden. We’ll have to wait nearly a year before we see it in action though. Do give the link a quick look.

5. Ongoing edibles

The salad stuff hasn’t been troubled by the unruly weather. The radicchio and endive, rocket, land cress, and Moroccan Cress lettuce are presently thriving, though everything has to be netted against pigeons.

We also have some Swiss chard, beetroot, parsnips and leeks, and a new bed of winter greens (planted out on the runner and borlotti bean bed) is looking quite good. And there are still a few climbing borlotti beans to pick in the side-garden wall bed.

6. A happy face

Now as I’m writing this, the rain is back and the wind is still blowing. So I’m finishing off with another garden stalwart. I was so pleased to find this marigold looking so fresh-faced as I went round the garden late-morning. Of course, we eat these too. Perhaps I shouldn’t mention that though.

Happy gardening folks – whatever your weather. Even on distinctly unpromising days, there’s usually something in the garden to be glad about.

Six On Saturday Please catch up with Jim at Garden Ruminations.

Season Of Mist and All Round Wetness ~ Six on Saturday

Here in Bishop’s Castle the rainy weather continues as we head towards the autumn equinox. Just now it’s pouring steadily, threatening to dampen spirits for today’s Michaelmas Fair. This is always a hugely jolly affair of stalls, parades, Chinese dragons, steam engines, vintage vehicles and street performances – assorted bands, Morris dancers, a jester from Chester, the singing farmer, to name but a few of the events. And then the whole thing is rounded off mid-evening with a magical lantern procession through the town (the lanterns made by children). All very much dependent of weatherly cooperation. But then I’m sure, this being the Castle, everyone will make the best of it, brollies and waterproofs at the ready.

Definitely not a day for gardening though. Also as the season winds down, it’s hard not a feel a touch dispirited by the ongoing sogginess. The few roses on their second flowering don’t like it much either. But come hell or high water, to say nothing of last winter’s three solid weeks of snow and frost, the little pansies, viola magnifico [1] above still soldier on. This plant has been flowering continuously for twelve months.

And talking of pansies, what is it that nibbles the yellow ones? And is it the same thing that bites off the buds from my only lupin whenever it tries to flower?

The Cosmos [2]doesn’t mind the weather either. In fact it seems to be having a new lease of life, and I’m enjoying the drifty looks of it, its stems hanging in raindrops.

The Japanese ‘Uchiki Kuri’ squash [3] plants weren’t as productive as I’d expected, and I had high hopes of some later planted plants. They’ve produced a couple of tiny ones, and I’ve nipped off extraneous shoots, but I think it’s probably too late for them now.

The borlotti bean crop [4] is looking more promising. I picked all the dwarf variety some weeks ago, but the climbing ones are just beginning to dry in their pods. I love them for their looks alone, though they’re pretty good in the pot too.

Despite my weather whingeing, the garden is still looking colourful. The rudbeckia and Michaelmas daisies certainly brighten the place up. There are also still some sunflowers at the bottom of the garden, and my two very small crab apples trees [5], Evereste and Jelly King are looking their vibrant best.

This miniature Evereste is in a corten steel raised bed, along with some origano Kent Beauty, and Santolina. Silvery Artemesia Powis Castle behind.

Jelly King is lighting up the furthest corner of the garden. I’m not sure I want to sacrifice the apples to making jelly (perverse I know, considering this is why I chose it). They look so lovely, and in fact, now I have found sources of wild apples (see previous post) I think I will leave them, first for us to look at, and later for the blackbirds.

Finally, here’s one of my newish garden plants that has been so glad of the rain, Persicaria Blackfield [6], red bistort. It really struggled all through the summer, despite my hand watering. But then with the first of the recent showers, it perked up and began to flower. It’s interesting that the drought seemed to have had a miniaturising effect on the whole plant, as if it was making itself small to save itself. I’m hoping it will settle in now and come into its own.

Six on Saturday Please visit host Jim at Garden Ruminations. He’s been very busy despite the weather.

Strains Of Autumn

Around the garden peripheries there’s the heady scent of fermenting fruit. This year the apple (1) crop is phenomenal. Our three old trees are crammed with fruit, even though we’ve tried to thin them out. The apples are not ripe yet, but in the last few weeks many have been falling off. They are now rotting happily, giving the plants along the garden fence a rather solid (vaguely alcoholic) mulching. Of course the blackbirds and the wasps have been eating some of them. Many, too, were damaged, diseased or infested before the fall. We have yet to get to grips with what ails the two cooking apple trees. The Crispin eaters in the photo above seem fairly healthy, although they have been dropping a lot of unripe fruit. But the cookers look like this:

By contrast, the crab apples are taking on a rosy glow. The little tree at the top of the garden is now much happier since we’ve had some rain and cooler temperatures. The many weeks of drought certainly stressed it:

I’ve now harvested my two Uchiki kuri squashes (2), one from each plant on the side wall border. I was hoping for more (3-5 per plant were promised on the packet) but after a flying start and much vigorous growth (and feeding), the plants suddenly seemed to give up; three small squashes turned brown and died. I have two more plants (planted out later in the top garden) still looking hopeful, with a tiny squash each, but I notice there are now only male flowers being produced. These, on the other hand, are very lovely, smell delicious and are a magnet for bee-life (see previous post of bees on the razzle). Anyway here we have the outcome of all that bee foraging:

The bean (3) harvest has been somewhat sporadic too, although on two occasions I’ve had sufficient spare runner beans to make several pots of runner bean chutney – always welcome in the winter months with jacket spuds. Since this week’s rains, the plants look as if they are rallying and there’s more blossom along the pole tops. There are also signs of a further crop of Violette climbing French beans. They’ve been coming and going all summer, producing in usable quantities, but it’s meant no gluts to pass on to neighbours as happened last year.

Also just ripening are my Cherokee tomatoes (4). They’re an heirloom variety I’ve not grown before, and I was a bit wary of giving up extra Sun Gold space in my small greenhouse. They started to form fruits and fatten early in the summer, and I wondered if they would ever ripen. The one plant I put in the garden by the runner beans has been leading the way.

Meanwhile the Sun Gold cherry tomatoes have been producing a few handfuls every day, though look to be fizzling out in the greenhouse. Surprisingly, two rather ropey plants put outside fairly late, are now doing quite well. One growing up a Polka raspberry cane, and the other keeping close company with the big cooking apple tree.

And now is the time for the late summer flowers. The rudbeckia (5) are presently the stars of the borders, especially the Goldsturm which is a mass of flowers. I bought the original plant (since split into several more) at the Bishop’s Castle Michaelmas Fair, the month after we moved into The Gables two years ago.

Then there’s the super-tall Rudbeckia lacinata Herbstone by the hot compost bin. It’s been going strong for several weeks now and looks to be about eight feet tall. I think the rotten apple mulch plus residue escaping the hot bin might be spurring it on.

Finally, a plant I brought from our Wenlock garden – Selinum (6). I’m glad I did, although I was worried that it wasn’t thriving. It’s just coming into full flower after a summer show of ferny leaves that looked pretty droopy most of the time. It’s related to wild cow parsley (Queen Anne’s Lace) that flowers in late spring-early summer. But unlike her, puts on a welcome spread for insect-life in late season. I love its structural beauty, the filigree looks.

Six on Saturday Jim at Garden Ruminations is our host. Please go and see what he’s been up to.

Bees, Bugs, Blooms and Borlotti

[1] Earlier in the summer I grew some uchiki kuri squashes from seed and planted a couple on the boundary wall. This is is the wall that had a ‘flower’ bed in the middle of it and was originally choked with Rose of Sharon shrubs, Spanish bluebells and ash trees. I wasn’t expecting too much of it once I’d cleared it, but it seemed like a useful space that could not be wasted. Much to my surprise the squashes have taken off like magic beanstalks. Even had to stop them heading off for the top of the town.

The leaves are huge and the flowers are wonderful. Bumbles, honey bees, beetles and hoverflies think so too. They are currently getting drunk, shoving their way into the male flowers, and drilling down into the nectar below the stamens. In the process they are bathed in pollen. They can’t seem to get enough nectar and don’t care how many of them squash in there, or if they are different species.

And this is what they have made.

So far it’s about a hand’s width across. There’s a slightly larger one behind the oil tank, and a couple of smaller ones besides. Thank you bugs and bees. Some of you seem to be sitting around the garden with hangovers.

[2] The runner bean plants are still looking good and there is a mass of blossom, but so far they have been slow to set and the cropping sporadic. Too hot for them it seems. We’ve still had very little rain, apart from a good cloudburst on Thursday which added a few watering cans full to the water butt. And it certainly refreshed the garden, but did not last long enough to really penetrate the soil. The days have been much cooler though, and today there are signs of more beans coming. The bees have certainly been doing their best here too.

[3] When I had my allotment I used to grow big rows or wigwams of climbing borlotti beans. Here at The Gables I haven’t the space. Instead, I have half a dozen plants growing up an obelisk in the front garden, and also a few more plants growing up some trellis beside the neighbour’s garage wall in the aforementioned border bed i.e. between the squashes. The beans are just beginning to set, but have a long way to go yet.

Meanwhile, in the bed in front of the runners, I have a short row of dwarf borlotti beans grown from seed. This was the first time I’ve grown them, and goodness, much like the squashes they zoomed off almost as soon as I’d planted them out. Already there are clusters of fattening pods. I love them for their colours as well as for cooking. So fingers crossed for a reasonable crop and no bean-boring bugs.

These are the climbing borlotti beans growing up some recycled trellis, and propped against next door’s garage, glimpse of squash plant to the rear. Some peas under the mesh in front are presently being nibbled. Graham, wearing his plant pathologist’s hat, tells me it is pea weevil. We entertain all bugs here – the good, the bad and the weevils.

[4] It’s been a struggle stopping the herbaceous borders from flagging. In the front garden we left all the privet hedge cuttings on the flower beds to provide a bit of protection. I had mulched a number of plants earlier in the summer, but the blackbirds have kept moving it everywhere but under the plants.Most annoying.

Still, things have survived, and now the late summer flowers are coming to the fore, and especially the Agastache, which I grew from seed last year. It’s another plant frequented by insects, including the cabbage white butterflies. I love its mauvy purple spikes, and the aniseed scent of its leaves.

[5] When I was thinking how to plant the front garden, I was much beguiled by Alcathaea ‘Parkallee’. I’d spotted it in a garden catalogue and was attracted by the fact that, as a crossbred hollyhock and mallow, it was immune from rust that frequently attacks hollyhocks. It also looked very pretty and so was among the first plants I bought for new garden.

It’s been flowering beautifully, despite the drought, but it does grow very tall, and thus has a tendency to flop over. I’ve found that cutting off the top few feet to put in a vase doesn’t seem to detract from the overall display. They anyway last very well as cut flowers too. Probably because they’re actually getting some water!

[6] And now it’s also time for sunflowers. I’ve grown all sorts, including the short Sunspot and some giant ones. Early summer plantings were zapped by some nasty bug and I had to cut off the main stems. Most annoying. Except now we have whole bushes of small-headed but long stemmed sun flowers which is actually very pleasing. You can see some orangey ones in the pot in the first Alcathaea photo.

The long…

…the tall

…and the short Sunspot:

It’s hard not to smile back at a sunflower

Six on Saturday Join host Jim at Garden Ruminations: lots of lovely plants and planting schemes.

Turning Red

Yesterday surely was a red letter day – at least on the gardening front.

We had rain.

We did.

Enough to soak the top inch of soil. This I discovered in late afternoon when I went to dig up some Rooster potatoes whose leafy tops had been cut off some weeks ago. I was surprised the rain hadn’t penetrated more deeply. We’d had a few heavy downpours during the day, along with gentle summer showers in between. It just goes to show how much rain is needed to nurture crops and all growing things. In fact, the soil under the potatoes had baked into an ashy crust, reminiscent of Bishop’s Castle’s very particular brand of lime mortar that holds our house together, the crust only penetrable with a hefty thrust of the garden fork.

But for all that quibbling, the garden does look relieved, some plants almost perky. This includes the runner beans which had been too overheated to make any beans. Now, with the cooler temperatures, they are abuzz with bees and (hopefully) making up for lost time.

And in the bottom of the garden, our little crab apple is looking especially grateful. It was planted last October and, as a new young tree, has been struggling during the long dry spell. Buckets of tap water really don’t quite do the job, although obviously better than nothing. But the tree has survived and has a mass of little apples which are growing in redness by the day. I’m trying to recall the variety. I especially wanted a tree that was good for jelly, so it may well be Jelly King. Or if not that, Red Sentinel. It will become more obvious in a few weeks time when the apples gain their full colours. Happy thoughts of jelly making, though not of rushing too fast into autumn.

#SimplyRed Day 30

Ladybirds In My Borders, Bees In My Bergamot

I’m back in the garden today. The old Africa album is taking a break. Although actually, thinking about days long past in Kenya has been a happy diversion from fidgeting about the lack of rain. Yet another month now with hardly enough to fill a watering can. But at least the days are much cooler and today quite overcast. In the meantime, the weather forecasting bods keep teasing and teasing, saying there will be rain two days hence, and then when we get there, ne’er a drop. Even my computer’s been joining in the game – a little message popping up saying ‘rainy days’ ahead. I now understand that ‘ahead’ is the operative word. And, of course, this being England, we can be fairly sure that one day we will receive a proper soaking.

Anyway, it’s not all bad news on the gardening front, so long as I keep up the regular watering. In fact the bergamot has scarcely needed any attention. For weeks now it has been a riot of bright purple heads. The leaves smell wonderful too, crushed between soily fingers. And as for the ~~white tailed bumbles~~ which, on closer inspection, are probably garden bumbles – talk about bee-lines. These days whole tribes of them are foraging among the curiously structured flowers.

I’m also very pleased to see a number of ladybirds in the garden, most numerously in the perennial cornflower (Centaurea). I’m puzzled as to why they are there, since I can’t see any aphid infestation, only ants. Unless they both ladybirds and ants preying on something too small for me to see.

Also spotted in the Centaurea are Common Carder bees, seen here with an incoming hoverfly:

And in the neighbouring Sunspot sunflower a Red-tailed bumble bee:

However, I am not so pleased this morning, to discover flea beetles on my Kabuki broccoli seedlings, planted out only two days ago. These tiny brassica-infesting bugs create a ‘scatter-shot’ appearance to all the leaves. Time to round up a few ladybirds and put them to work then. I’ve just read that they like flea beetles…

#SimplyRed Day 27

Six On Saturday ~ Still Waiting For Rain

The evening garden

This gardener is beginning to panic. After weeks of rainlessness, we’re now having a spike in temperatures – the peak today at 29 or 30 degrees, depending which weather forecast you consult. Thereafter, hopefully, we should feel a decline of several degrees, with finally a promise of rain next week.

But then we’ve had these promises several times over the last three months, with only one good downpour that yielded 8 watering cans’ worth from the shed water butt. And that was ages ago.

1. Hand watering is all very well, but it really only keeps plants ticking over. Or in the case of my onions and first sown carrots doesn’t. I pulled them up yesterday. They had simply stopped growing.

2. Also my single seed potato in a bucket had had enough by yesterday. This was one I couldn’t fit into my planting row, so I thought I’d trial it in a container. Stopping it from drying out was of course an issue. And the bucket itself was making it very hot. All the same, when I emptied it, I was quite impressed with this little haul.

The Rooster spuds in the ground are still holding their own for now, so I’m hoping for a reasonable harvest. We’ve eaten most of the Belle de Fontenay, and I’ve popped in a few peas where she’s left some space.

3. In the bean corner things are looking fairly hopeful. Beans respond well to mulching, and anyway make some of their own shade. I’d also prepared a compost filled trench for the runners in the winter. The dwarf borlotti beans, planted out in front, are also sheltering the runners’ roots. They don’t seem to mind being hot and are already forming pods. A slight error in labelling has resulted in some of the dwarf borlotti in the row requiring sticks, which is annoying. I have the taller variety growing up some trellis against next door’s garage – i.e. in the once horridly hypericum infested wall-bed on our boundary.

This year I have a real mix of runner bean varieties. For some reason I had problems getting any of my seeds to germinate well, new and not so new packets alike. I ended up re-sowing, and putting in a few Scarlet Emperor seedlings bought from the butcher’s to be going on with. My small row thus also has some white Moonlight, red Lady Di and one Painted Lady which has very pretty white and red flowers although they’re looking pink at the moment.

4. In the nonedible quarters, Penelope rose is still blooming hard, although the other roses have given up flowering now. I love her. She is like a wild rose, but with added flounces. And she smells delicious.

5. Also my favourite Morning Glories have begun to live up to their name and are putting on an early-day show. I’ve planted them out everywhere where there’s something to climb up, amongst the beans and sunflowers, up the trellis disguising the oil tank. Hopefully, if it does rain next week, they will really get going, and hopefully, too, keep flowering until the first frost as they did last year.

6. And another success has been the sweet peas. Although the ones in the front garden are now beginning to fry round the edges, this despite the watering and mulching. Also, given my non-orderly manner of cultivation – randomly up an obelisk and a trellis, they have grown rather short stems. My dear Pa would have been aghast. He used to grow his in regimented tall-cane rows, with set watering intervals to ensure evenly spaced blooms along each dead straight stem. Then he would lovingly count them, five and six big flower heads, usually. And then he would snip a bunch of the best and take them off to his latest lady friend. Mother rarely got a look in when it came to sweet peas.

I’ve tried taking a photo of ours outside, but they don’t look their best. So here’s one of the several small vases we have about the house. Wall-to-wall sweet pea scent, a soothing antidote to moments of over-heatedness.

Six On Saturday Please visit our host Jim. Lots of interesting plants in his garden today.

My Garden Supervisor: Robin Not So Red

Perhaps it’s the time of year, the courtship fine feathers and family raising done, but this robin’s breast looks to me more orange than red. I think it may be moulting time too. Some days when it pops into the garden, it looks as if it’s got out of its nest on the wrong side – feathers every which way. But then sloppy personal grooming doesn’t stop it from giving me hard looks, scrutinizing every gardening move in case worms and grubs are in the offing.

These days it is not so insistent and no longer perches on the nearest pot and cheeps until I make some attempt to provide. Not so many mouths to feed. So now, when it sees I’m only dead-heading or watering, it soon vanishes. Clearly it has other calls to make about the town.

#SimplyRed Day 2 Today on July Squares, Becky pays tribute to Cee whose inspiring photo challenges brought so many of us together. She is very much missed.

A Surprising Red Arrival

This opium poppy sprouted up suddenly between the blackcurrant bush and the compost bin, and this week it began to flower, just in time for Becky’s month of squares. Red is the theme, and square the format for the header photo.

The bees have fun with all the frills, burrowing in and out to gather pollen. I notice, too, there are more poppy plants coming on outside Graham’s shed so we’re in for a show from these showy volunteers.

When the buds first break, they are almost black, giving a glimpse of the dark underskirts first. Later, when the flower opens, they are only visible if you stand on your head.

#SimplyRed Day One – Join Becky for her month of squares: painting July red, but in a good way.

Tish Farrell

Writer on the Edge