Weeding the Web

GBBD: Camassia behind bars

With beds full of lungwort and forget-me-nots and, yes, garlic mustard and herb robert (because I like them, OK?), I'm going to concentrate on my newest addition. My Camassia. This, I found out from Emma Cooper, is tipped for great exposure at Chelsea. I bought mine a couple of days before I read that, or I might have put it back on the shelf. I don't like people to think I'm a slave to fashion. However, Chris Beardshaw, who's putting in around a thousand at Chelsea, says he can't imagine why they're not more widely used.

Let me explain...

I was in a buoyant, spring-like mood when we visited a newly discovered nursery. The sun was shining, the birds were tweeting, and I treated myself to a carefully picked specimen that had four strong flower plumes ready to burst.

Pretty, huh?

Back home, where to put it? If you're like me, you tend to leave plants in their pots around the flower beds to see how they take you. I put it in a likely spot. I got quite fond of the position. I decided to plant it there.

Arrival at bed with fork. Hold on. Weren't there four flower stalks? Two remained. The others? Snapped off. One I spied below the strap-like leaves, lying on a bed of pulmonaria. The other has never been seen again.

What little varmint was responsible? Squirrels? Foxes?  I'd placed the pot at a point in the fence where they quite possibly jump over at night. Perhaps they jumped on it.  We moved the pot and Husband produced the netting. It looked like a naughty Camassia by the time we'd finished, but no fox was going to come close.

No foxy varmint is coming close to this

All serene. The blooms began to emerge, at the base of the flower plume, moving up. Then, What's that you say? What's that hanging down in the picture?  There, inside the cage, another snapped bloom!

A snap of a snap

From FOUR I I now have ONE. Did something small and furry return for another bite? Was it the wind? We had very strong gusts after the netting went round. Might the flowers have got caught? 

To be frank, I don't care. If Camassias are such martyrs to passing hazards, all I can say is they suit Chelsea down to the ground and are just far too delicate for me.

ON OFFER: Plant of the moment (slightly battered).

 This is part of Garden Bloggers Bloom Day hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens. Pop over to see how other gardeners are doing round the world.

GBBD: not-so-shrinking violets

There's something about the underdog that, they say, always appeals to the English. Perhaps this is why I've always had a soft spot for violets. They seem so small, so frail, so much as if a breath of air would crush them.

It took me a little while to discover that they're actually tough as old boots. Dug up a violet? Just stuff its wiry stems and roots back into the ground. Anywhere will do. Anyhow. You don't even need to water them in for the most part. 

They can also get a little untidy. Once the flowers are over, the plants grow, lifting their leaves and seedpods high.  But I do love them. Rarely do I put them in the compost. They add a little to my spring corner, underlying polyanthus, cowslips and anemones.

   

If they're really in the wrong place, I move them to a different part of the garden. And I'm pleased to say that my plan is finally coming together. In a woodsy area I have a statue and for quite a while I tried to work out what would look good carpeting the very shallow soil behind it, and what would be tough enough to bear stamping on when we pick the plums above.

 
After various attempts, some involving alpines and small-leaved sedums, I realised the answer was literally all over the garden. I'm now helping violets to colonise the area. They seem to chime perfectly with the Victorian character of the young maid.

Today is Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, hosted at May Dreams Gardens by Carol who, I am delighted to see in her blogpost last Saturday, is also a violet enthusiast. Why not pop over and see what else is in bloom this Spring?

 

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day: a spring combination

Husband's obsession with Hellebores doesn't quite match up to Juliet Davis's, she who featured on BBC's Gardeners' World this week with her glorious collection found at Kapunda Plants, but he does have the patience to grow them on for years on end from seedlings grubbed up from the borders.  We should have quite a few around by the time he's finished. 

The one pictured below isn't one of his, but now that the Daphne is filling out nicely (it's about three years old), the two make a lovely combination at the back of a shady border.

Today is Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, hosted by May Dreams Gardens. Pop over to see what else is blooming around the world.

Ground elder - two and a half years on

If you suffer the unwanted attentions of ground elder, this is the ideal moment to get out in the garden and grub some up. It's just poking its leaves above the ground, and the soil (at least in my patch) is damp and easy to dig, so the roots come out easily.

Some of you may remember that in 2012 I spent three weeks upside-down in the flowerbeds, pulling out ground elder.  Well, I was on my knees in the borders again today. About time, I thought, for an update.

The first thing that you no doubt know (it's about the first thing that anyone tells you) about this weed is that it will always come back. (Honestly, it deserves an award for persistence.) Get every little bit of root out, we're told, as it will regenerate from the smallest piece.

Lots of people will tell also you the only way to get rid of it is with glyphosate, but one day I'll blog about why we should never - never - use it. When I last posted, Kininvie from the (now lapsed) Gardening at the Edge said that burning it off as it appeared had proved fairly successful. This chimes with Bob Flowerdew's recommendation that you will get on top of it if you persist in pulling off every leaf visible, but you have to do it while they're small.

Personally, I weed. I even, sort of, quite like doing it.

But my point is, I'm not having to do that much of it. Really. The weedathon of 2012 reduced sightings to a minimum.  This afternoon, I've pulled out a bit, but it's not run rampage as it used to.

You possibly remember that I put forward a slightly wacky suggestion that improving the soil would discourage the ground elder (or at the very least make it easier to pull up). That year I poured quite a bit of soil improver on the beds in winter 2012-13, especially Dalefoot Compost's Lakeland Gold, which contains bracken, a traditional claybuster. I spread home-made compost and I spread rotted manure. I did the same last year. Can't say I buried the beds; they probably got about an inch on average. I also sprinkled Clay Breaker, the gypsum-based pellets from Vitax.

The soil is definitely better, though it's a long, long way from perfect. But I'm sticking to my theory. The worst bit of ground elder I've just dug out? In the really clayey bit that's been compacted by the contractor putting in next door's new fence. (Actually, I get the distinct impression that he might have shovelled some of their stickiest soil over to my side.)

So, really, this post is meant as encouragement. Courage, mes amis. Digging out ground elder is not the hiding to nothing that it's so often portrayed to be. Get rid of enough of it and it becomes a weed that, yes, requires a vigilant eye but needn't make you a slave to it.

Assuming, of course, that you get out there early enough each year and pip it at the post.

Now, what do you do about your invasive weeds?

Trend growing for garden-ready plants

A garden-ready chrysanthemum plug from Woolmans

It's always tempting to anticipate a trend, but I reckon I'm on pretty safe ground in saying that we're going to see more and more "garden-ready" plants arrive on the market. 

Plant Me Now is a company that has made a virtue from its start of selling plants that can be put straight out into the garden but other companies, more used to selling seeds and plug plants that you pot on before planting out, are expanding into the market.

Suttons has had ready-to-plant options for a few years, with the range now including plants such as Ageratum and Cleome, which were only available as plugs and for pots a few years ago.  Thompson and Morgan also offers quite a choice with Bellis, tomatoes, and a couple of collections on offer for the first time.

Van Meuwen, in their Spring catalogue, say they've bowed to popular demand and are offering a range of begonias, pelargoniums, petunias, gazanias and lobelias from some of their most popular cultivars. They also offer sweet william, stocks and polyanthus, among others.

Chrysanthemum Lilac Chessington from Woolmans

And Chrysanthemum specialists Woolmans are offering potted garden-ready plants for the first time this year, choosing cultivars that perform particularly well in the garden (as opposed to the showbench).

I think on the whole I like this development. What do you think? With space at a premium, the fact that I could bypass the potting-on stage is very attractive. With the current emphasis on attracting novice gardeners, it seems a helpful development. Yes, the larger plugs cost more but, on the other hand, it must reduce the amount of potting compost bought on the domestic market and so cuts down the consumption of peat.

Will you be buying garden-ready plants this year?

A stunning plant to see at Wisley this December 2014

Sometimes it's easier to visit a garden in winter, don't you think?  The points of interest tend to be fewer, so it's easier to concentrate, and the set pieces stand out against the barer beds and dormant plants.

Last week, on a glorious sunny morning, we popped into RHS Wisley. Here's what we found:

The bedding scheme above is looking a bit patchy at the moment, but the idea is to create an impression of a landscape seen from above. Blocks of plants like Euonymus fortunei 'Emerald Gaiety", Primula 'Alaska Limelight' and Erica x darleyensis 'White Spring Surprise' will knit together into a patchwork. At the moment the silver birch stakes are saving it from too much prostratation.

  In the veg garden, Brussels sprouts glistened in the sun:

A display of pumpkins and squashes filled the floor of a small greenhouse:

In the walled garden at the far end of the formal pond, we were surprised by this parterre.  If I had a country house estate, I'd love to include something like this. It aims to inspire gardeners to go for majestic results on a small scale. It's the first time I've seen anything like this at Wisley and it's been designed by garden staff member Enrico Mailii. It had real presence and felt like a serene oasis, but  I fear all those Polar White chippings (supplied by Stone Warehouse) are going to really annoy the person who has to prepare the garden for its next incarnation.

You can't visit Wisley in winter without treating yourself to a blast of heat in the glasshouses. There's a bit of a theme going on. Under this pyramid of poinsettia is the entrance to Mr Tumnus' home, the faun in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  You can just see the warrant for his arrest pinned to the door.

And further round is the White Witch's throne.

Far more impressive than any of this, though, was Ravenala Madagascariensis. Related to the Bird of Paradise plant, you can see its flowers are similar (if a trifle bigger). Raised from seed at Wisley, it's already been moved from the edge of the tropical area as its head hit the glass, so I wonder if they'll manage to keep it.

Water runs down the leaves and collects in the base - hence its common name, the Traveller's tree. The leaves angle themselves to make best use of sunlight.

You can't really get more awe-inspiring than Nature, can you?

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day: a love-hate relationship

There's virtually nothing out in the garden, apart from the Camellia sasanqua I featured last month and the lonicera fragrantissima that I wrote about in January (it's a bit earlier this year). The climbing rose has popped out a few unseasonal blooms (rather like VP's unexpected honeysuckle), but I think it's a bit embarrassed by its impulsiveness.

We're not completely without colour, though, because in the corner, flashing orange, is Iris foetidissima - Stinking Iris or, more kindly, Beefsteak Iris (crush the leaves and they smell like beef crisps).

I have a love-hate relationship with this plant. The flowers are a sort of dirty mauve and virtually invisible in summer, but its dramatic leaves provide great contrast in the bed. But individual leaves turn ragged and brown, so except at in spring the plant looks pretty messy.

They have a reputation for thriving in dry shade (though, next door's leylandii proved more than a match when I tried that) and in more favourable circumstances it spreads. And spreads.

The berries spill over the ground and seems to seed like weeds, so I've got small iris springing up around the garden where, unnoticed, they take a firm grip of the soil and are difficult to extract. But having seen a blackbird jump to grab a berry from a cluster, I can see they have their uses.

You can tell how common it is by the number of names for it: Blue seggin,Gladden, Gladwyn, Roast beef plant, Scarlet-seeded iris, Stinking gladwin. On balance, I keep them because, as regular visitors will know, if it's low maintenance, it's pretty welcome. And, seemingly bomb-proof, this iris is very low maintenance.

And that flash of orange on a grim grey day like today is really rather cheery.

See what else is colouring gardens around the world at May Dreams Gardens, host of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day: the year's first camellia

Isn't this gorgeous? I'm so proud of my £5 find at the local annual plant sale. I've been waiting all summer to see what it does. I was promised an unusual camellia that blooms from October to Christmas, and it's swung into action right to schedule.

 

Its buds are a lovely pink:

And the flowers retain a pink edge as they open:

It's even got a delicate scent. Even better, it had a label and I know which one it is: Camellia sasanqua 'Rainbow'.

According to Noel Kingsbury's article on How to Grow Camellia Sasanqua, it will take more sun than other camellias, but still does best against a west or south-facing wall with shaded roots.

Now all I have to do is find the perfect spot in the garden. And you know how hard that is to get right. 

To see what else is blooming around the world this month for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, visit May Dreams Gardens.

Winter Bedding Plants from Plant Me Now: juggling ajuga with viola and lavender

Some things are obviously complicated. Others, you think, Surely not.

This weekend I had a go at Life Drawing and, yes, it was every bit as demanding as I thought it would be. Last month I was offered a choice of bedding plants from Plant Me Now - how difficult could it be to create perfect winter pots?

Hah!

It was my first venture into both winter bedding and designing pots with it. Thinking tonally, I requested two that are new to their range - Viola Teardrops Pink Blush and Lavender Lavance - and a stalwart bugle, Ajuga Burgundy Glow, which has lovely pinky-violet variegation.

Clever, I thought. Three short, bluey-leaved lavenders in the centre of a pot; pinky-purply bugle encircling them, showing the odd creamy splash; and an outer ring of blushing pink violas. A doddle. Why on earth are there so many magazine articles, telling you how to plant pots?

Hah!

They arrived. I hadn't received stock from Plant Me Now before and I was impressed. From my visit to Ball Colegrave I know that much effort went into researching good packaging and, although the box was left on its side in the porch, it wouldn't have mattered if it had been upside-down. The packaging keeps soil in its place and plants well protected.  The plants themselves looked bounding with health.

The other thing I like about Plant Me Now is that the plants are ready to go. I didn't have to hang around, nurturing anything, I could just plant up the pot.

Hah!

Space: massively underestimated. No way was I going to cram in three lavenders, five bugles and five violas, as planned. 

Combination: bugle = bushy and lavender = petite. Both lovely. Not pot companions.The robustly leaved bugle sort of overwhelmed the more whimsical-looking violas. Not pot companions. 

So here's Plan B: One lavender, surrounded by all five violas.

How did that heuchera get there? Oops, and the weed.

What of the bugle?

Though I says it myself - and in opposition to Husband, who proffered an unasked opinion on colour contrast - I'm rather proud of the way the plants complement each other tonally.

So, rather than remove the bugle elsewhere, I potted one up by itself and set it next to lavender/viola combo. I would have put more in, but the plants are a good size so one is almost filling the pot already, and being in "lonely splendour", so to speak, gives it a certain gravity all its own, which it lives up to with the variegated colouring.  Completely accidentally, I've entered the realms of blending pots together as well as plants.

So, unexpectedly I've now also got four lavenders in a trough, where I think they'll knit together into a rather smart little hedge that I might transfer into the ground when I've found the right spot, and four more bugle that, several weeks down the line, are still in the soil they arrived in and still thriving (obviously supplied in a good growing medium), and awaiting to adorn the top of a much larger pot where I'm intending to place a small tree. 

As a viola virgin, I really didn't know what to expect, so I've been pleased with the way they've taken off. They also, accidentally, fulfil Husband's demand for contrast as they start off yellow and gradually acquire their lilac-y hue from the top petals down (it is lilac more than pink, but plant expert, Tim Milward, of Plant Me Now, suspects that soil and weather conditions play a part in that). The yellow picks out the creamy splashes on the bugle.

Pansies and Violas at Wisley March 2013

I chose violas because I was so impressed by the massive display that Wisley put on last year as part of its Autumn Planting for Year Round Colour campaign. They made a very cheerful show.

Teardrop violas are already a popular series (Pink Blush is a new colour). They have a semi-trailing, cascading habit, which should suit my pot but, even better, in October's Gardening Which?, they report that Teardrops displayed the best winter flowering of all the violas they trialled and continued well beyond spring. By July, apparently, they were trailing beautifully.

Now, all you out there with pot+bedding experience, does the following sound familiar? There's something very addictive about planting up pots. I want to have another go. I want to tweak what I've done with a slightly taller lavender in the middle.

The possibilities seem endless, but do you ever find that you're absolutely satisfied? I fear the answer is no, and that the only remedy is to keep having another go. 

If you'd like more on Plant Me Now, visit Catharine Howard's post Plants by Post - do I rate them?

 

GBBD: Cyclamen never stops

Well, this Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day I'm hoping for some advice. Here's what I've chosen for this month:

I featured this plant at the beginning of the year when I reviewed its Ebersankey Glossy Self-Watering Pot from Fiskars.  The string wick that draws the water from the reservoir has, incidentally, suffered no further diminishment and, as you can see, the plant has at least doubled in size. It has also flowered non-stop - and I'm not exaggerating; it's had bushels of blooms - since last Christmas.

The question I'm asking is, Can it flower itself to death? Should I take it out of its pot, let it dry out and give it a rest, or just let it get on with it? If the latter, I really feel I ought to start feeding it in some way - perhaps a drop or two of plant food in the water.

Any advice would be much appreciated. What do you think?

NB See what's happening to blooms around the world this Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day at May Dreams Gardens.