Weeding the Web

What happens when you plant tulips too early?

You know how it is. You see bulbs, early in September. You buy handfuls. Then, some time around March next year you find brown paper bags filled with partially sprouted husks and, in a gentle gardener-ly fashion, say to yourself, "Drat. Must remember to plant bulbs at the right time this year."

Albion Star tulips

Happens to me every time. But not this year! Three bags of tulips have gone into the pot.  And yes, I know you all know that tulips should go under the sod in November.

"What happens," I asked at the horticultural society, really wanting to know, "if I plant them earlier?"

"They rot off," said one.

"Fireblight," said another.

"OK," I said meekly.

Then I thought, Hold on. The tulips in the beds are in the ground all year and seem to cling to life. Why wouldn't these?

Johann Strauss tulips

So Albion Star, Show-winner and Johann Strauss (all early and around 8-10 inches high and from J Parker's Wholesale) have been planted. Actually, the compost is quite dry and I sneakily haven't watered them. Will they come up at the appointed time, or will their early burial be their early demise?

Show-winner Tulips

I'll report back in Spring.

In the meantime, you might be interested in what can happen when you plant tulips too late.

Gigantomo tomatoes taste update

My main tomato crop this year, as some of you may remember, has been Gigantomo, the tomato that, with care, promises to grow to gigantic proportions. 

Gigantomo tomatoes are surprisingly difficult to pick as they are held really strongly on the plant.

That was never going to happen for me. My heaviest tomato so far has weighed in at 12 oz, nowhere near Joe Atherton's 1.755kg (3lb 13.9 oz) winner in the Heaviest Gigantomo Tomato Class at Harrogate Autumn Show this weekend.  A man who appears to possess the stoicism demanded by growing giant veg, he's looking moderately pleased with his £1000 reward in the video below, where he discusses how this came off a late-sown plant with the fruit set on the first truss :

(If you can't see the video, visit it here.)

As I didn't pare down the harvest to one per plant (though they pretty much thinned themselves down to one per truss), the fruit vary quite substantially in size, which is no bad thing when you have different needs for different recipes.

As you can see, the flesh is very dense, with few seeds. I was fairly sure it wasn't going to have much to offer taste-wise, but I'm glad to say I'm wrong.

Some might say it hasn't quite enough acidity, but I'm rather a convert. Kept out of the fridge, it's got a full, sweet tomato flavour and not only goes well in salads, but cooks down to a really lovely sweet tomato sauce. I simmered slices of courgette with it and really didn't need anything else apart from a bit of salt and pepper. 

My plug plants were supplied by Van Meuwen and I think this is one that I'll definitely be growing again.

Autumn planting combinations: sedum and dahlia

Sedums herald autumn like no other flower, and no one can deny how jolly useful they are for some late, warm colour. Here's a lovely combination I found in an island bed a friend's garden recently:

I didn't check the name of the sedum, as I was sure it was Autumn Joy, but the dahlias (I was told) are Bon Esprit. I'm not absolutely convinced, as the references I've found have listed them as about a foot high and these are not standing on a box, but they're definitely a cactus type, which contrasts nicely with the smoother domes of the sedum, so it shouldn't be too hard to find something to suit.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day: a late splash of sunshine

Colours, I discovered some time ago, have a hierarchy. Yellow - and by extension, orange - as far as many gardeners are concerned, is most definitely at the bottom. I'm not entirely sure why, although many blooms are pink and that doesn't make a great combination. Perhaps because many weeds are yellow, banishing the colour demonstrates the "cleanliness" of your patch? 

I rather like it, especially at this time of year, when it seems to create a late splash of sunshine, much needed in the grey rain.  In fact, I've got a bit of theme going on this year.  A range of marigolds from a free packet of seeds supplied by World Vision:

Osteospermum Blue Eyed Beauty, supplied by Thompson and Morgan. This has been a real success, repeat flowering, short stems, compact mound and just pretty, pretty, pretty.

I first saw them last year at Ball Colegrave. For those interested in such matters, they are a touch more environmentally friendly than some plants. Nurseries generally like to raise stock early to get more sales, which often means using heat. These can be grown cool, so saving energy. Here's what they looked like last year.

They're positioned close to the marigolds above, and to crocosmia elsewhere.

Finally, a short sunflower. I'm not a fan of tall ones, which for me just get leggy and messy. This was grown from seed saved from a short variety given to me by Mr Fothergill's. I'll be saving it again, I think, assuming the birds don't get to the seed heads first.  I have to admit the bloom went over a couple of weeks ago, but I couldn't resist putting it in here, as it's been adding to the mix for some time.

 I think it's Little Dorrit. (Please ignore the horsetail in the background!)

This is part of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, run by May Dreams Gardens. Pop over to see what else is blooming around the world.

Figs - 2015 a bumper harvest

Normally, this time of year, we have the Ceremony of The Fig. From the Mighty Fig, The Fig is solemnly removed, laid on a red velvet cushion, carried in procession, worshipped for a few hours, then cut precisely with a silver knife and consumed with gem-set teaspoons.

OK, slight exaggeration, but you get the picture. Our Brown Turkey, now around five years old, has been sparing in its offerings. This year? Pah! Another fig? Throw it in the bowl with the others. One's a bit mouldy? No sweat.  This year, we've had, ooh, twenty? Thirty? We've had pounds and pounds. At last, I thought, our fig tree has grasped the point of its being.  From now on, we'll have firkins of figs every year.

But I suspect not. Everyone's talking about their fig harvest. Best for years. Nina Baxter (@landgirl) tweeted a picture of a bowlful. Michele Chapman has a very tempting Figgy Cheese Tart on Vegplotting. Apparently, it's been great in the States too (Andrea Yeager offers Fig Pickles and Fresh Fig Cake).

I fear that this year has rather changed our perspective. The Ceremony of The Fig will be a thing of the past. If the Mighty Fig only gives one fruit next year, we'll probably just kick its trunk in revenge.

Tree Following: lilac - what fungus is this?

Oh, dear. Things are Not Looking Good. When I last reported in June, there were a few leaves that were showing brown patches. In fact they looked like this:

Now, the whole bush has a rather sickly appearance:

And the majority of the leaves look like this:

Now, it sounds ridiculous, but I have in the past been caught out by normal activity. "Oh, no, it's dying!" being replaced with, "I forgot, leaves turn brown in autumn." Now, though, I don't know what you think, but it just doesn't look healthy to me, and leaves have been getting steadily worse over the last month, which would make it a very early autumn.

Today, for the first time, I noticed this at the base of the trunk:

Not a good sign, you think? I've tried identifying it via Google and have come to the conclusion that it might be a root rot, but if anyone out there has any idea, do leave a comment.

Back in June, Lucy wondered if there was something living inside the leaves where the brown patches are.  I've kept my eye on them and haven't spotted anything. In July last year, when some of the shoots wilted, NotesofNature suggested it might be a sign of a fungus blocking vascular elements. Is this white stuff a progression of that?

If it is root rot, then research tells me that it's a sign of a poor root system and, given that the tree was half-uprooted in the gale in October 2013, it would seem that a jigsaw is being assembled. Still, ever the optimist, my fingers are firmly crossed that it's something innocuous. Do let me know if you have any suggestions.

This is part of Tree Following with Lucy Corrander and Loose and Leafy. Why not visit and see what's happening to trees elsewhere?

 

Dan Pearson's Arts and Crafts Meadow at Compton Verney - last chance to see

Less than ten days remain to see an ephemeral work by Dan Pearson, who (and I know no one's forgotten) won this year's Best in Show at Chelsea Flower Show.

The Mown Parterre. Copyright Compton Verney Photograph by Stuart Thomas.

To accompany their exhibition, The Arts and Crafts House: Then and Now, Compton Verney, the Palladian house turned art gallery in Warwickshire, commissioned Pearson to design something for the West Lawn, where it could be seen by visitors through the windows of the galleries on the first floor and would lure them out into the wider landscape. After a summer's growth, it will look very different from the pictures below.

Dan was shown the exhibits to be included in the exhibition but given a totally free hand to design as he wished.

Having grown up in an Arts and Crafts house in Hampshire, where his mother decorated with William Morris wallpapers, he was fascinated to see the papers in the flesh. He immediately lighted on Trellis, with its balance of formality in the grid pattern and informality in the winding vines. 

Visual of the Compton Verney parterre at Compton Verney. Copyright Dan Pearson Studios

Not only does it encapsulate how the best-known proponents of Arts and Crafts garden design (Edward Lutyens and Gertrude Jekyll) worked with the landscape (the formal framework provided by Lutyens' design, the informality by Jekyll's planting), but it's a rather nifty solution to what could have been an awkward juxtaposition of planting and classical facade.

"What's nice about the grid is that it takes reference from the formality of the house," said Pearson, "and then bleeds away into the trees." Thus it forms a solution to combining the formality of the Palladian villa design with an essentially informal parterre, which itself echoes more distant meadows in the landscape created by Capability Brown.

 

Pearson's design is a simplification of Trellis, with three large "pools" of wildflowers - Shirley poppies, corncockle, gypsophila, blue cornflowers and other colourful annuals - representing the roses in the Morris design, set in a meadow of perennials (these were not yet in bloom, thanks to the cold spring, when I visited in June). Fancifully, you can regard it as a living rendition, with the birds in the design represented by the living birds that inhabit the trees in the meadow.

"I thought I had to represent the design, rather than be slavish to it," said Pearson. "The grid works really well with the house and, without it, this would just be a meadow." 

After his Laurent Perrier Chatsworth garden at Chelsea this year, winning Best in Show, this continues to demonstrate Dan's interest in blurring the edges between gardening and nature, and - as he is at his home in Somerset - gardening and agriculture.

The Arts and Crafts movement encapsulated a connection between house and garden and, indoors, the exhibition gives ample space to photos of Folly Farm in Berks. When built, it was regarded by many as the best work to come from the collaboration of Lutyens and Jekyll and the photos compare the garden as originally planted by Jekyll with Dan Pearson's acclaimed restoration, which won Historic Garden Award from the Society of Garden Designers this year.  Pearson worked on it from 2009 to 2013, taking planting inspiration from Jekyll's palette, respecting the Edwardian roots, but adding more naturalism that blends the garden more into grounds and landscape.

Once you realise the affection and affinity that Pearson has for the work of Lutyens and Jekyll, it's easy to place him in the progression of garden history. "My work," he says, "is continuing in the the Arts and Crafts tradition."

The exhibition will be moving on to Newcastle but the meadow remains in a lasting legacy that Dan feels might create a versatile canvas in years to come. "Another artist can mow something else into it," he said, "It's a light-footed way to make something big and embracing."

The Arts and Crafts House: Then and Now, runs at Compton Verney until 13th September.  It traces the origins and appeal of the movement through work by those such as C R Ashbee, M H Baillie Scott and Ernest Gimson, among others, looking at silverware, textiles and utensils. 

Traditional tools accompanied by engravings by Stanley Anderson.

It examines iconic buildings such as Morris's The Red House and Sidney Barnsley's Beechanger, and features modern artwork and design that continue the Arts and Crafts tradition.

Porcelain vases by Andrew Wickes.