The Butterfly Effect

Peacock Butterfly

You've probably heard the of the 'chaos theory' concept that the minute disturbances of the atmosphere caused by the fluttering of a butterfly's wings can be the origin of a hurricane or tropical storm on the other side of the world.  I'm not sure whether I find that scary or inspirational.

Red Admiral

This year in our garden, I have to say that the more obvious impact has been of the weather on butterflies, rather than vice versa; I have never seen so few as during the present cold, wet summer.

Painted Lady

In previous years our garden has been home to plenty of glorious butterflies and sometimes they even settle long enough for me to get the camera focused on them.

The first seen is often the Peacock, sometimes quite early in March, with Tortoiseshells, Speckled Wood, Meadow Brown and Comma sighted throughout the spring and summer, joined by Red Admirals and Painted Ladies later in the spring and through to autumn.

Old Comma on a blackberry leaf

This year, I have seen very few butterflies of any species, but that doesn't mean they haven't sneaked in unobserved from time to time.  Indeed, while my back has been turned there have clearly been some busy in the garden, if not the ones we're happy to see.

Shredded broccoli, thanks to cabbage white caterpillers.

While we were away on our narrowboat trips, the Cabbage Whites must have been about, as we've been picking lots of chubby green and black striped caterpillars off of our lacy-looking brassica crops over the last few days and gleefully dropping the little blighters into the pond.

So be warned caterpillers - mess with our cabbages, and you'll literally be sleeping with the fishes!

Pot Luck

"I think it's some sort of Hemp" said our friend...

Just for a change, I'm sitting at the computer listening to torrential rain ricocheting off the lean-to greenhouse, and I've just had to put a light on in order to see where to get the memory card out of my camera, despite it being midday and August. 

It's great to be home!

We've been away from home for a week, visiting Jon's new baby grandson (plus proud parents and almost equally proud uncle), my folks in Southampton and a few other friends we haven't seen for years. 

For their own protection, a couple of these friends need to remain anonymous.  We spent a very enjoyable day in their company catching up on news, sharing photographs and eating probably the best cheese scones in the world, before taking a quick stroll around the garden between heavy showers.  We don't have a monopoly on them up here, evidently.

An unusual, elegant and architectural plant gracing the border close to their bird table caught my eye.  It was easily my height and had a leaf similar to an acer but clearly from its shape and growth habit it wasn't a tree.  "I think it's some sort of Hemp" said our friend.

Not an Urban Myth - something narcotic in the bird seed?

 It didn't look like anything routinely found on sale at the Garden Centre, that was for sure! 

It had apparently "just appeared" there, Officer. 

"Yeah, right!  Tell that to the Judge!" you might be thinking, but many years ago as a kid I can remember being told by my mother to sweep up all the wild bird seed that fell on the ground under the bird table because some of it was supposedly cannabis and she didn't want us to be arrested if it started growing. 

I always assumed this was an Urban Myth; certainly nothing that's ever fallen from my bird table has ever grown into anything that wasn't just wheat or oats.  Maybe I buy cheap and nasty bird seed compared to our (nameless) friends, or possibly the cool, wet Staffordshire climate doesn't favour germination in the same way as that of balmy Hampshire.

But I can't help wondering if we now know why those cheese scones taste so damned good!

From wedding to weeding

I mentioned a couple of blogs ago that I finally had a proper commercial project on my hands after relying on my former CAB co-workers for altogether too much of my very limited gardening tasks to date.  It's only a small-scale job, planting up a herb garden and adding some ground cover to some borders that are parched due to having quite thin soil and all the moisture in it sucked up by the roots of a cherry laurel hedge, but it's a proper start at last.

It's also a job that came my way via a peculiar sequence of coincidences, starting from my enthusiasm for photography.  It's something I've been enjoying as a hobby for almost as long as I've been gardening.  They did have cameras back then, but none of this digital paraphenalia - my constant companion for many years was an 'Olympus Trip', with an old Practika SLR for the clever stuff, and I took slides, which was great discipline for making me compose a shot carefully, as there was no scope to cut or crop later and of course none of that 'photoshopping' malarky either.

When I eventually relented slightly of my Luddite ways and got a digital camera (my trusty Nikon D40) it was so that I could do the photos for a young relative who was getting married on a very tight budget.  The bride and groom were delighted with the results and, to be honest, so was I.  Naturally, I've never looked back, apart from occasional wistful comments about the quality of the light in slides.

Back to the 'how I got my herb garden commission' story.

I took some photos last year of a local carnival where there was a Town Criers' Competition and, being pleased with the results and having enjoyed seeing and hearing the Criers in action, gave a disc of the best shots to the councillor (and Town Crier) who had organised the event.

Some months later, he was showing the photos to his brother and his brother's fiancee, and they saw this picture.

And on the stregth of this shot, asked if I could do their wedding photos.  My Town Crier friend asked and, making the assumption that it would be quite a small-scale wedding (being a second marriage for both) I agreed.

The wedding actually proved to be a fairly fabulous affair with a country house hired for the weekend, gorgeous frocks, the groom and best man being flown in by helicopter, a piper, a wedding singer during the wedding breakfast and even a fly-past by the Red Arrows, though I'm still not sure whether that was planned or just happy coincidence.  I missed them, but thankfully I got some really good shots of everything else and the bride and groom were really pleased.

When I took the disc of pictures round for them, I happened to remark that this wasn't my usual line of work at all, but in fact I was trying to establish myself as a gardener.  Luckily, they had work for a gardener to do, specifically some begonias to go in for summer bedding, but also a couple of borders at the back which needed planting, and some bare patches in the front where nothing much wanted to grow except weeds, especially chickweed (the unfairly glamorous sounding Stellaria media).

We were soon talking herbs and perennial ground cover...

I spent one morning planting out the begonias and trying to figure out the strange soil conditions, then had a quick shopping expedition with 'the bride' to choose some herbs, and finally spent another morning planting out the herbs and getting some of my indestructable Alchemilla mollis tucked in around the feet of that cherry laurel.

Culinary herbs in a sunny border, with the fennel looking a little shell-shocked from transplanting!

What has been particularly enjoyable has been working out in her garden with 'the bride', teaching her a few little gardening tips and talking about what aftercare the plants will need, and just chatting, getting to know what she would like from her garden, what colours and leaf shapes appeal and, since aromatherapy is something she has studied in a professional capacity, what scents and fragrances we can use. 

There are some more gaps to fill in the front and some spring bulbs would fill the spaces when the herbaceous perennial herbs die back for the winter, so I am looking forward to returning to do some more work for this lovely couple in the near future.

Blighted

Happy memories - last year's Kestrel crop

There was I, wondering what else could possibly go wrong in the garden this year, when it should have been blindingly obvious.  A wet summer followed by this recent period of slightly warmer, humid, thundery weather can only result in one thing...

Phytophthera infestans!

In case the Latin has you confused, it's the equivalent of the 'Avada Kedavra' curse in the Harry Potter books, only for taters.  Better known as Potato Blight.  And right now, it's ripping through the allotment shrivelling the leaves of my beloved spuds and threatening to wreak havoc on the tubers too.

There's too much rain about to get a dose of Bordeaux Mixture on them - Bordeaux Mixture being a copper sulphate fungicide and a sort of all-round 'Expelliarmus!' solution to all manner of evil - so all I've been able to do is cut off the haulms of the worst affected and hope that the Sarpo cultivars live up to their 'blight buster' reputation.

Most disappointing is a significant failure of the usually reliable 'Kestrel' second earlies.  I had thought the row of little stunted brown sticks was all that remained of a new cultivar for me called 'Ratte', of a similar shape to the Pink Fir Apple and also a salad spud, but sadly not.  I lifted two roots and found they were the Kestrels after all, recovering three whole new potatoes in the process, one inevitably impaled by the fork.  The funny little 'Ratte' taters are actually plentiful, but need more time to grow with the benefit of foliage to reach a decent size, so I'll just have to chance leaving the haulms on for a little longer.

Despite taking a hit on the foliage, the Highland Burgundy Red root that I lifted had produced a fairly decent crop and suggested the remainder could have benefitted from more growing time with their leaves on, but there was no sensible alternative to slicing off the top growth with the dark infested splodges everywhere.

Elsewhere, a modest triumph is a surprisingly good ongoing crop of raspberries, and we also did fairly well for blackcurrants as, for some bizarre reason, they don't seem anything like as popular with the blackbirds as the red and white currants were. 

Raspberries - one day's crop.

Nice, but hardly likely to sustain us through the winter!

Kidsgrove Station in Summer

Shrubs and perennials on Platform 4

At the start of this year I posted an article praising the work of the volunteers of Friends of Kidsgrove Station in restoring and improving the lovely gardens on the platforms of our local station.

Wall basket on the island platform waiting room.

Even in the winter they looked immaculate, but now the summer is here (well, sort of...) the gardens are really blooming.

Herbaceous bed between Platforms 2 and 3

Sadly, there have been a few problems with theft of plants and baskets, but not the level vandalism that some doom-merchants predicted.

Summer bedding on Platform 2

It's always a pleasure when using the station to arrive a few minutes early and see what new plant or planters have been added.

Hopefully other passengers also appreciate everything the Friends have done.  It's really been an incredible transformation.

The Write Stuff

Alchemilla mollis - does 'herb garden' and 'ground cover'.

Well, wouldn't you just know it; home again from a few days on the narrowboat and damn me if it isn't another cold, wet day!  The sort of day when merely getting out from under the duvet is a challenge, let alone venturing out to see what the slugs and snails have been up to in our absence.  So I haven't, yet.  Gone out to see what the slugs have been doing, that is - I have managed to crawl out from under the duvet and rashly committed myself to a morning of proper commecial gardening tomorrow.

Yes folks - proper commecial gardening!  A project for someone who isn't a friend and former work colleague, but is a lady in need of a herb garden and some ground cover for a rather dry front garden.  Precisely the type of work I need and enjoy!  She also lives in a very salubrious neighbourhood so if I can make a good impression I may find more customers in the vicinity.  Fingers crossed...!

I was beginning to wonder if it wasn't time to consider alternatives to the life horticultural.  A great friend and keen reader of this blog, impressed by my writing, recently remarked that I should 'write a book'. 

A cunning plan, though whether my literary talents would stretch to anything commercially viable in the current post '50 Shades...' climate is, to say the least, questionable!  I can't help thinking that if I attempted the proverbial 'bonkbuster', complete with sighing, swooning, profoundly annoying unassertive heroine and mean, moody, anatomically implausible hero, the result would be rather too tongue-in-cheek, and nowhere much else.  Things might get very dirty, but only in the way you do handling fresh compost or silty soil.  And the title?  See if you can guess it before we get to the end of this post.

There is already a dangerous precedent in that no lesser horticulturalist that Alan Titchmarsh once won a 'Bad Sex Award'.   Apparently his novels aren't that good either... 

(And there goes my chance of ever working for B&Q!)

When it comes to horticulturally-themed parodies, I would have to work very hard indeed to trump this rather excellent effort from the Guardian's Simon Hoggart that had me crying into my cornflakes a few weeks ago.  "He stood above her, holding a rope, thin, silky, sinuous, as if it were possessed by a life of its own. 'You know what I'm going to do with this?' he said slowly with a beguiling smile on his fleshy lips. 'Yes, I'm going to tie up the sweet peas before it starts raining.' "

It is tempting to wonder if it isn't just the grey skies that are to blame for the apparent lack of interest in gardening this year.  Once upon a time, they used to say that 'gardening is the new sex'.  Now it seems sex is the new gardening; respectable suburban folk who would normally be pondering whether to go for begonias or bizzie lizzies in their bedding schemes are sitting indoors clutching their 'Kindles' and pondering an entirely different concept of bedding!

And if I am reduced to writing 'mommy porn' for a living, the Potteries-based horticultural bonkbuster would have to be called...

Fifty Spades of Clay!

Ouch!

Tatton Park - Flowers and Photos

Just a few words this time and the link to Flickr where the best of my photos from Saturday can be found, which is:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/30634865@N03/sets/72157630716883358/

One of the things that always intrigues me with flower shows is the way certain colour schemes or plants seem to be everywhere - this year there were a lot of gold-red themed planting schemes and Achillia appears to be the perennial of the moment.  I suspect both owed their prominence to what proved to be the misconceived idea that the gardens for this year should be planned to cope with drought conditions!

Catching up with my Reaseheath College colleagues and tutors, apparently it was a thoroughly soggy few weeks for the 'build' but everyone felt suitably proud of themselves at the end.  'Nature Squared', their fabulous show garden demonstrating that you can do eco-friendly and stylish in the same plot, missed out on the coveted RHS Gold Medal by a whisker, but all credit to them for their Silver Gilt.

It was a shame to see fewer 'back-to-backs' this year, the small show gardens that are often a good way for new designers to establish themselves, but perhaps that's a sign of the times?