Flowers for picking

It’s a sweet morning task to pick sweet peas. I have to stand on the garden seat to reach them now, and some of the stalks are quite short. Two vases are required: one for short stalks and one for long. The fragrance is lovely.

A stalk of Christmas lilies, which a friend gave me from her garden on Monday, fills the air with festive fragrance, especially when combined with the pine scent of the Christmas tree.

Mum enjoyed decorating the tree on Sunday – supervised by Felix.

From this, to this?

A photo in a magazine shows sweet peas growing on a greenhouse frame. This gave me inspiration. The greenhouse I put together in September 2020 had lost most of its plastic sheeting which I’d replaced with shade cloth. The lettuces I tried to grow in it this year were ravaged by white fly.

After seeing the photo, I ripped out the last of the plastic (now washed and ready for soft plastic recycling) and removed the shade cloth. I’ve planted dwarf sweet peas in the relined, replenished hanging basket, tall sweet peas in the black bucket and alyssum – to ward off white fly – in the other planter. A bit of old trellis softens the harshness of the iron fence a little. I doubt if I’ll achieve the lushness of the magazine photo with this dry, hot weather, but here’s hoping for some flowers.

Plants in pots

These roses are doing well in pots. The Sexy Rexy was in the garden, but was not thriving. It didn’t take long to recover once it was in a pot. I have a watering schedule: the pots are watered twice a week and fed on alternate weeks (roughly). The liquid plant food smells rich and pungent; the prolific flowers suggest it is doing them good. I’m hoping a Spiced Coffee rose, also rescued from the garden, will do well in its pot. The Violet Hit, which has always been in a pot, was not thriving, so I moved it last summer into a more open position and it is steadily improving, despite the fact that an aquilegia has taken up residence in the pot and will not be budged.

A mass of sweet peas is growing in a barrel. They have simply come up by themselves this year. Popping up amongst them are self-sown poppies – including some fluffy ones – and underneath a little daisy is struggling for light.

The potted yucca is hosting self-sown lobelia. The Mother of Herbs has been removed from its pot as it was taking over the kitchen windowsill. It is now beside the sage barrel and a basil plant has taken its place in the kitchen. Tiny viola pop up around the garden, and these ones are with self-sown poppies in a daffodil pot – with a background of geraniums grown from a cutting given to my mother years ago by the Avon lady.

Lime Tree with companion plants

You can hardly see the pot this lime tree is in; the companion plants of alyssum and silver thyme are thriving – a sign of good soil health, I hope. A previous lime tree died, so I decided on a pot for this one, beside the house for shelter. So far so good – and the lime tree has lots of flowers. As with all the pots, I use food suitable for container plants – either liquid or slow release – so that the soil doesn’t build up toxicity, a tip picked up from a television gardening show.

Plant power

Precious Platinum and sweet peas. The edge of the raffia mat shows Felix- damage.

It’s nice to have flowers from the garden on the table, but they have to be cat-proof. Felix has broken two vases and flooded the table trying to drink the water. A flat-bottomed vase has proved successful, but a rose, such as Mum’s favourite ‘Precious Platinum’, needs a slim container to hold it upright. A solution is to put the thinner vase in the larger one. Then it occurred to me to put sweet peas around the sides. The fragrant mix of flowers lifted our spirits which were sapped this morning, pre-caffeine, by a thirty-minute search for Mum’s hearing aid around and under the fridge. I found two ping pong balls, a small pine cone, bits of cat or dog biscuits, and a lot of fluff using the find-my-hearing-aid app, a fluffy duster, a torch and a wee bit of swearing. Finally, Felix’s fishing rod toy did the trick. Hearing aids are skin-coloured for camouflage while in the ear. A luminous colour would be useful for finding them in dark corners, just saying.

Apart from flowers cheering us up, the growth of other plants is miraculous to watch. Mother of Herbs (aka Cuban Oregano among other names) is taking over the kitchen windowsill. Outside, the yellow courgette plant is growing. The green courgette (see previous post ‘Small beginnings’) is shrinking, sadly, but today another as yet unidentified cucurbit has emerged beside it. The butternut pumpkin seeds I dried and planted have sprouted and I will need to find places to plant the seedlings soon. Where I pulled up suckering lilac, interesting fungus has emerged, probably doing its job of breaking down a tree stump. While the runner beans are beginning to wind up their stakes, the broad beans are ready to eat.

Backyard Bounty

The greenhouse is proving its worth. My long tee shirts are useful for collecting tomatoes.

Pockets are okay too for a few tomatoes, but you have to be careful not to forget the collected ones – or accidentally squash them.

In the last few days the number of ripe tomatoes has increased.

Every vase has been called up to accommodate the sweet peas.

Yesterday’s ferocious nor’west wind threatened the second flush of roses, so I rescued this Blueberry Hill. These roses are all on one stem. The abutilon flowers were blown off by the wind.

Popcorn is broody again. She is all fluffed up, giving the impression of an abundance of feathers.

If there was sound with these photos, you would hear her muttering darkly about how cruel I am to shut her out of the nesting box. And she doesn’t let up.

In the wider backyard of our city, people are gathering for the Backyard Buskers’ Festival. Formerly the “World Buskers Festival”, border restrictions mean no international performers this year. A circus trio was entertaining a large crowd in the city today, and another pitch I passed was full of people waiting for the next performance.

We are not unaware of how fortunate we are to be able to live like this now. On Saturday, at a Christchurch Symphony Orchestra performance in Victoria Square, I noticed a person on a balcony of the nearby Managed Isolation hotel. A poignant reminder of how lucky we are – for now.