Scent in the Garden

Tags

Narcisus 'Geranium', RHS Great London Plant Fair, Scent in the Garden, The Cut Flower Patch, Victorian Violas, viola cornuta

Tulipa ‘Verona’

I remembered it was time for the latest instalment in the ‘Scent in the Garden’ meme on Saturday afternoon whilst I was crouched in a very uncomfortable position sawing at the base of my Viburnum x bodnantense. I’m not sure why it came to me then, I’ve somewhat lost track of the days in recent weeks; perhaps it was the scent of the narcissi which jogged my memory. I’m a bit late to the post but it’s that time of year where a couple of extra hours each day would be useful in order to fit everything in – like pruning shrubs and writing blog posts. Anyway better late than never. Blog posts like this are a useful exercise in getting me to stop and actually look at my garden rather than letting the spring garden pass by in a blur. Spring for a gardener is a bit like the spin cycle on a washing machine – lots of frantic activity – before things then slow down. In between my seed sowing, pricking out, potting on and watering (who’d have though April would be so bereft of the synonymous showers) it would be a pity to miss these scented spring delights.

Narcissus ‘Geranium’

There are so many forms of narcissi it would be impossible to have one favourite, but for me Narcissus ‘Geranium’ is certainly in my top ten. It has tall stems but smaller, more refined flowers than many varieties, with a dainty, snub-nose trumpet in vibrant orange. Most of all though I love its potent perfume – a real ‘knock your socks off’ whiff. Unfortunately my resident slugs and snails seem to be attracted to all my narcissi, including ‘Geranium’. So much so, many of them have been chomped to a raggedy mess. After the briefest of rain showers one night last week I went out on the first mollusc patrol of the year. After weeks of dry weather they were out in force and it was a real heart-sinking experience. Buoyed by the glorious weather and spring bursting forth I have been feeling quite perky and full of the proverbial joys, but having to pick big fat slugs and snails off the trumpets of daffodil blooms rather burst the bubble. Why do they slither and slime their way past weeds and leaf litter, crawl all the way up the daffodil stem to eat the flower? It seems like they are taunting us gardeners, it’s almost like they know how to wound us the most. There’s that point in a spring garden where everything looks fresh and new, untouched by the weather and pests, and I just want to keep everything looking so pristine and beautiful that I wish I could press pause. Then there’s the tipping point where spring perfection morphs into doily-like hosta leaves, tattered narcissi flowers and frost-induced mushy, brown magnolias and I sigh with resignation. Perhaps the slugs and snails might have a penchant for Chanel No. 5 and I could spray weeds to distract them from the daffs … It would be an expensive means of control, not quite as expensive as nematoding my garden for the summer though!

Tulipa ‘Verona’

Tulips aren’t generally thought of as being scented. I didn’t think so until I was researching The Cut Flower Patch. I’m eagerly anticipating the opening of Tulipa ‘Ballerina’ with it’s orange jelly-scented blooms but it’s ‘Verona’ which has been the first tulip to flower in the garden. A fabulously voluptuous variety with ruffled peony-like flowers in a deliciously buttery-cream colour. It doesn’t have a powerful ‘fill the air’ type perfume but, if you get up close, it does have a delicate sweet aroma. It lasts for ages too – providing a good four weeks of flower power. If you’re going to grow one tulip I can highly recommend this one.

Crab apple blossom

At last the crab apple has come into blossom; it’s later than it has been in past years. For the last week the tree has been studded with rose-pink buds. From the vantage point of the kitchen sink I thought something reddish-pink had become caught in the branches until I realised it was simply a huge cluster of flower buds. This weekend delicate white petals have started to unfurl, and with them a wonderful, underrated perfume. Underrated perhaps because it isn’t an overt aroma, the sort typically used in the perfume industry. For me, crab apple blossom perfectly captures spring in its scent – clean, crisp and fresh, like washing which has been dried outdoors in a gentle breeze. My crab apple in full bloom on a warm, sunny day fills the air with its scent, appreciated not just by me but also the bees which descend en masse to devour the nectar.

Syringa meyeri ‘Josee’

My mission to add more scent to the garden was helped somewhat by a visit to the RHS Great London Plant Fair last week. It was a coincidence (honestly) that I happened to be in London that day anyway. It was my first visit to a London plant fair and I was impressed. I would have liked there to be more nurseries in the Lindley Hall but overall there was a good selection of plants and at reasonable prices. The big dilemma was how much I could safely carry and keep alive on the long journey home. Among my quarry were Syringa meyeri ‘Josee’  and Viola cornuta ‘Victoria’s Blush’. I adore lilacs. There are several ways I can get to my allotment but I deliberately walk the route which takes me past a huge unkempt lilac, just so I can have a quick smell of the intoxicating aroma. I’ve always wanted one of my own but I have been a bit put off by the size of many of the varieties. So the smaller, more compact variety Syringa meyeri ‘Josee’ took my eye. A height and spread of 1.5m will make it ideal for my already cramped garden. I’m a huge fan of violas, particularly the perennial varieties. These trouble-free plants have a long flowering season. A purple Viola cornuta lines my borders producing a low-growing carpet of foliage and for several months delicate scented flowers. Cut back hard in mid-summer it gives a second showing into autumn. It does self-sow in cracks and crevices but I don’t hold that against it. For such a little flower Viola cornuta produces a heady fragrance, best on a still balmy evening.

Viola cornuta ‘Victoria’s Blush’

This little beauty was on the Victorian Violas stand. Its pale pink flowers caught my eye but it was the scent that won me over. I could have left with more if I’d had another pair of hands, luckily though it’ll self-sow once established. As ever, it would be fantastic if you would join in this meme – posting on your own blog (leave a link here) or leaving a comment about what its scented in your garden this month. I’m really loving discovering new scented plants and celebrating all that is fabulously fragrant.

The Grumps

Tags

Crocus 'Cream Beauty', forcing bulbs, slug damage, The Cut Flower Patch

It’s raining again

I’m grumpy. I am sat here at my desk writing, with the rain and wind lashing against the window, wondering if this weather will ever stop. I can’t remember the last time I saw sunshine. It has been the wettest January for a hundred years in parts of the south. No mention of how Wales has fared yet but if someone tries to tell me there has been a wetter January …. well it just can’t be possible. A simple 5 minute walk to the post office or to pick some vegetables from the plot requires head to toe waterproofing and I am sick of looking like a trawlerman every time I need to leave the house. I’m even fed up of having to wear my beloved wellies. I’m not just grumpy with the weather I’m grumpy with myself for constantly banging on about the weather. As I commented to Flighty the other day, I’ve started to bore myself.

My muppet-like crocus

Back in the autumn I planted up a variety of bulbs for indoors. The narcissi, hippeastrum and hyacinths have all been and gone now but I planted up some crocus too. I love crocuses and their cheery flowers but hate the fact that they seem so easily damaged by the weather. I have found the best compromise is to fill some small clay pots with bulbs, put these in the greenhouse and when there are signs of greenery bring them indoors. They flower a little earlier with the extra protection, last so much longer,and I get to enjoy their flowers from the warmth of my kitchen. Well, that is if you get to them before the slugs do. Slugs in January, now that just made me even grumpier. The distinctive silvery trail ran across the top of the pots and the crocus stumps they had left behind. I’ve also discovered this odd phenomenon where some of the petals seem to have not developed properly but the distinctive orange stamens have poked out. It makes them look like mini versions of Beaker from the Muppets. Has anyone noticed this before? It doesn’t look as if I can attribute the blame for this to the slugs. Fortunately, some of the pots were untouched and I now have the flowers of Crocus ‘Cream Beauty’ appearing unscathed, so all is not lost and it looks like ‘Snow Bunting’ and some of the ‘Barr’s Purple’ have survived too. A couple of crocus in the garden have reared their heads but they really shouldn’t have bothered as they look forlorn and mud splattered at the moment.

Crocus ‘Cream Beauty’

The real delight of bringing plants like crocuses indoors is that you get to look at them close up. It’s hard to get close to something that might only be 10cm tall when it’s growing in the garden. In a pot on my window sill I can see the delicate markings on the petals but best of all I have discovered that crocus have a scent. You need to get right into the flower to catch a whiff of the perfume but it’s worth it. It isn’t a scent which permeates a room, which is a pity, but every time I pass by, I stop to have a sniff, and it’s enough to lift the spirits.

Some plants in the garden haven’t escaped winter slug damage. The flowers of snowdrops have been nibbled too, as have some primroses. It all makes me wonder about climate change and gardening. In 2012, we had no summer to speak of. Instead we had grey skies, cold days and lots of rain. Last year we had no real spring with cold days lingering on well into June. I remember vividly that first week in July felt as if we went from winter to summer. My memory of this is so good because I needed an extension on the deadline for my photographs for the book I was writing. It’s hard to conjure up summer when you haven’t had one yet. And, so far, we are yet to have a winter. No real frost, no snow and interminable amounts of rain. I’m wondering what 2014 and beyond are going to bring. Will we ever get to garden this year or should we start to farm cranberries?

The Cut Flower Patch

As well as the appearance of the crocuses something else which managed to lighten my mood was the arrival of an advance copy of my book. A small number of books arrived just after Christmas, ready to go out as review copies to newspapers and magazines. The rest will arrive in the coming weeks, closer to the date of publication. I knew the book was on the way, so when I saw a parcel in the postman’s hand and the label of my publisher on the envelope I got a little excited. I know it might seem a little odd that I sound surprised I got excited about it, but I am. I have seen the images and text so much over the course of the last year that I feel like I know them inside out, so I did wonder whether it would be a bit of a let down when the book finally arrived. I’m pleased to say that wasn’t the case, and to see it all together, as a finished product, did make me grin in a slightly inane manner for quite a while. Wellyman, bless him is actually reading the book, even though he must feel like he knows it all inside out too.

It’s been quite cathartic to write about my grumpiness but I can’t put off the inevitable any longer. I have kale to pick and it appears to still be raining so where are those waterproofs…..

I want to be an ostrich

Tags

autumn equinox, Florence fennel, French bean 'Blauhilde', leek moth

So it’s officially autumn. It was the autumn equinox on Saturday and from now until March the nights are longer than the days. The weather is distinctly autumnal and it’s cold enough to light the wood-burner. The problem is I’m in denial; I refuse to light the fire in September, it’s just too early. I even went into town last week in flip-floppy things, cropped trousers and no jacket. The sun was shining, which had lulled me into thinking it was warmer than it actually was but the nip in the air quickly made me regret my attire. It’s unusual for me to be under-dressed. I have never bought into the ‘a coat is not an option, even if it is minus 15 outside and blue skin is distinctly unattractive’ ethos that some of my fellow north-easteners have become famous for. I guess I’m still hoping that by some miracle an Indian summer will appear and my trips to the allotment won’t require layers of fleece just yet.

Of course, I know denial is futile. Burying my head in the sand like an ostrich might keep my head warm but it won’t do much for the rest of me. Do ostriches actually bury their heads in the sand or have they been badly misrepresented over the years?

Borlotti beans

I did make the most of Saturday’s lovely sunshine though, to start to prepare the plot for its winter slumber. We’ve been lucky to escape the early frosts that have affected some but the cooler temperatures had started to take their toll on the French beans and the weight of the plants on the teepee had caused quite an alarming lean to the structure, so with strong winds and rain predicted I thought it was time to remove them. They were the tall climbing bean variety ‘Blauhilde’ with long purple pods which I would highly recommend, partly because it coped with the worst summer any of us has ever known, and also because the beans were very tasty and never got tough or stringy. I harvested the last two Florence fennel bulbs and made the decision to pick No. 1 squash. It could have done with longer on the plant to ripen a bit more but after nurturing it for so long I didn’t want to lose it to frost. It’s now on the kitchen window sill where the skin can harden a little more but to be honest as it is our only decent sized squash curing the skin to prolong storage is not really an issue; I’m sure we’ll be cooking with it in the weeks to come.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time over the last couple of weeks moving manure from the allotment pile to my own plot. I can only really manage an hour or two before my back hurts so I try to do a little bit every couple of days if the weather allows and gradually the beds are being mulched.

Russian red kale

My plan was to have more winter veg this year so there’s some mizuna and cavolo nero kale in a bed along with some red Russian kale. This Russian kale is actually more bluey-pink and it’s particularly versatile. I love it wilted in omlettes and pasta dishes or in bubble and squeak. If you grow one winter veg I’d recommend this one.

The purple and white sprouting broccoli plants have recovered from the caterpillar onslaught. Even though I had covered them in enviromesh butterflies had still, somehow managed to lay eggs on them. Vigilance and judicious squishing saved the day but it just shows how a gardener can’t rest on their laurels even when pest controls have been employed.

My leeks have not faired so well, in fact they’ve been a bit of a disaster. It appears they have been subject to an attack from the leek moth. I perhaps wasn’t as vigilant with my leeks as I now realise I should have been. They had started to look a bit raggedy but I didn’t think much of it until an inspection last week when I discovered tiny little caterpillars chomping their way into the stems of my leeks. With little hope of some of the leeks recovering I had to remove them. So it seems I need to cover them too next year, with fleece or enviromesh. You never see the elegant kitchen gardens in sumptuous photo shoots swathed in fleece, do you?

Not wanting to end on a tale of leek destruction though, I have planted up some more biennials for early flowers next year. I love biennials as they give me hope at this time of year. It can be quite melancholic removing this year’s plants but biennials remind me of my plans for next year and they fill me with hope for good weather and bountiful crops.

The Usual Suspects

Tags

hostas, lamiums, organic slug pellets, salvias, slugs, snails

The Usual Suspects

I don’t like to give in or be defeated by things but I think when it comes to slugs and snails, for this year anyway, I have. There was a time when I would patrol my garden as dusk fell, torch in one hand and trowel in another collecting these slimy creatures. With a bucket of salty water at the ready, they would be disposed of and I would go to bed feeling like I was at least on top of the problem. A sprinkling of organic slug pellets or water bottles, cut down to create a collar-like protection around particularly vulnerable plants, were further weapons in my armoury.

However, this incredibly wet summer has provided such perfect conditions for slugs and snails that it’s proved impossible to control them. I’ll admit my night-time forays have been few and far between, with other commitments taking up so much time. And if I’m honest the prospect of donning full waterproofs to go out and search for slugs in the pouring rain is not the most appealing way of spending my time. I’ve tried beer traps in the past but the disgusting gloop that results is difficult to get rid of. Where do you put a mixture of drowned slugs, slime and cheap lager?

Shredded hostas

Even organic slug pellets which have proved useful in the past don’t seem to be working this year. I have a plastic trough that I grow salad leaves in and I’ve had to resow it threes times now. I’ve even tried planting into it more established little lettuce plants but this didn’t even work. I came out one day to find a slug, in broad daylight no less, manoeuvring its way through the compost, avoiding the slug pellets and hoovering up the lettuce. Seriously these creatures have no shame.

A slimy trail

My hostas are taking on a shredded look, lamiums have been reduced to shreds and a salvia is now nothing more than a stump. I have plants that a slug or snail, the actual culprit is unclear, has crawled over the leaves at the base, up the stem and then eaten the much anticipated flower. Why, why, why?

It’s not like I want to completely eradicate these detritivores. I appreciate their place in the chain of organisms that breaks down plant material but what I don’t understand is, give a slug the choice between some rotting leaves and some lettuce seedlings and it will choose the latter. Maybe it’s the same as giving me the choice between service station sandwiches and a gourmet meal in a restaurant. My lettuce must just be too tasty to slither past. But surely my lamiums and salvias aren’t that much more appealing than a pile of decaying leaf litter. Maybe I just have to accept that there are some plants that I just shouldn’t grow.

Where’s the salad gone?

There was a time when I was pretty squeamish about disposing of slugs but the sense of frustration I feel when I come across plants that have been damaged when I’ve spent so much time nurturing them has led to a more ‘seek and destroy’ mentality. So much so, that scissors or squishing with a welly are now employed. I have more of a problem with snails though, partly because scissors aren’t going to work with that shell and also more because they look like a living creature rather than slugs, which just look like a blob of slime. Writing this though still makes me feel slightly guilty. I don’t like destroying life but when it is estimated that there are up to 1000 slugs per square metre in parts of Britain this summer because of the mild winter and wet summer, which could mean potentially 15 billion slugs in the whole of the country, I don’t feel quite so bad. (figures taken from the Daily Telegraph 23rd May 2012)

In some respects it is my own fault, the overpopulation of slugs is a sign to some degree that the little ecosystem that is my garden is not functioning properly. There simply aren’t enough predators to control the mollusc population. The difference between my garden and my allotment is striking. Whilst the plants up on the plot have not survived completely unscathed they have suffered relatively little damage, birds such as song thrushes and blackbirds are doing a fine job of controlling the slugs and snails. Even though I encourage birds into the garden, prowling neighbours’ cats seem to put many of them off rummaging about in the undergrowth and a back garden entirely surrounded by fences makes access for hedgehogs difficult. I did come across a frog today though sitting under some grasses by the newly installed pond. I don’t think one frog is going to solve my slimy problem though, so for now, I can only hope that at some point soon it will stop raining, the ground will dry up and the slugs will go into hiding for a while.

Under Attack

Tags

natural pesticides, organic pest control, Scale insects

My acer tree under attack from scale insects

In a rare spell of dry weather the other day I ventured out to drop off some veg peelings into the compost bin. Pausing to have a quick nosey about the garden and see how everything was coping with the deluge of rain we’ve been experiencing I spotted with a sinking feeling an assault on my acer. Peering under the leaves I could see little limpet-like bumps on the branches and trunk of the tree. A couple of years ago I had had the same problem with my Viburnum bodnantense so I knew it was a type of scale insect.

Scale insects suck the sweet, sugary sap from plants, weakening the plant and possibly transmitting viruses. They start life as eggs and then hatch into their nymph stage where they look a little like aphids. These nymphs crawl over the plant looking for somewhere to settle and develop into a scale where there will sit happily sucking on the carbohydrates flowing around the plant just below the surface of the branch. Eggs are then laid under the protective surface of the scale.

Now is the perfect time to go out and check over your plants for any pests like this. Plants are putting on a lot of growth at the moment, especially with all this rain. This new growth is particularly sweet and juicy and has yet to toughen up so it is a prime target for pests. When looking for pests like this start with the new leaves and buds. Aphids, in particular, love this fresh, new growth.

As for dealing with them. The scale itself protects the insect and any sprays are most effective when used on the egg or nymph stage. You could use a systemic pesticide, sprayed on the leaves it is absorbed by the plant and carried throughout the plant, as the pests eat the plant they absorb the chemical and die. There are natural pesticides, such as fatty acid sprays but these need to be used regularly because they don’t persist on the plant for a long period of time and are not suitable for the scale stage of the insect.

I garden organically though and the best way to deal with pests like this is with your fingers. It is, I have to admit pretty disgusting. You can use an old toothbrush, just dipped in some water and then run up and down the affected branches and this is what I started doing. My acer is a bit more delicate than the Viburnum though and after a while I gave up with the toothbrush and resorted to the good old ‘finger squishing’ technique. Messy yes, but effective. As I was scouring the plant for any more signs of scales I also spotted some of the nymphs congregated on the leaves so these were squished, too. I’ll keep an eye on the tree over the next month or so.

Scale insects are quite common on greenhouse and conservatory plants and because these protected spaces have good growing conditions they can survive all year having several generations of offspring.

I also spotted this …

Tasty Marsh Marigold

needless to say this slug didn’t last much longer!