Six on Saturday: Light Bulb Moments

How to Protect Flower Bulbs From Rodent Damage

There are no sleuths investigating a dastardly crime here, it’s just that all but one of my contributions for Jim’s meme at Garden Ruminations this week are inside and undercover! Snowdrops, both common and specials are all but over here, but Galanthus ‘Peardrop’ (above), my star performer, is still strutting her stuff, flaunting her HUGE blooms, a full 2″ (about 5 cms) from the top of her green ovary to the tip of the outer perianth segments – she’s gorgeous!

I had no preconceived ideas of what I might pick for today’s vase but wanted to avoid hellebores and snowdrops, which would have been the easy option. I don’t have many summer snowflakes, Leucojum aestivum, but the first stems were in bud so I cut three as a starting point, keeping the stems long.

I must be honest and say that the petticoats are not velvet, but two pots of hooped petticoat narcissi in the Coop, Narcissus bulbocodium ‘Arctic Bells’ and ‘Casual Elegance’ (above); what is velvet, however, is a plant recommended for a cool greenhouse by well-known UK nurseryman Bob Brown. I was trying to find suitable contenders for the Coop and bit my tongue as I tried to ignore that it has yellow flowers – I am glad I did as the foliage is not only delightful but tactile too, and as a plant it has sailed through two winters with negligible attention and without batting an eyelid, looking every bit as smart as it did when I first bought it. Let me introduce you to Oxalis spiralis ‘Sunset Velvet’ (below):

The first ‘Tête-à-tête’ in the streamside grass for a start (although if you look closely it is more weed than grass these days) above, and one of several recently-emerged Clematis armandii ‘Snowdrift’ blooms below:

The garden screams ‘Promise’ at every turn, offering up joy on every ramble. Buds of Prunus mume ‘Beni Chidori’, tight little pink balls for several weeks, have begun opening and allowing yet another fragrant winter plant to delight us in these leaner months. A picture of the tree, below, does not give a good indication of its real impact, but at least the close up of some of the blooms does.

Not surprisingly, I have been enjoying my witch hazels in recent weeks, from the moment they began flowering at the turn of the year. Some are perhaps on the wane now, but there is still plenty of colour on all of them. Why not come and admire them with me?

This hellebore always astonishes me with its profligacy, an almost overabundance of buds and, in due course, flowers. I have to remember not to trim its marbled leaves, a feature of x ericsmithii hellebores; this one is H ‘Piroueutte’ and I can visualise it twirling round and around with its swirling pink skirts, like a whirling dervish.

If there is a lesson to be learned about the rose above, ‘Phyllis Bide’, it is not to overlook what is in front of your face. Planted outside the front door a few years ago to replace, on a whim, the bright pink ‘Pink Perpetue’, the bud that this bloom opened from must have been in evidence before I noticed the fully open flower on Thursday, but I hadn’t seen it. Not that I was expecting to see any roses in bloom halfway through January, although it does sometimes happen – and admittedly it tells me that this is a rose I had forgotten to prune when I did my climbers back in the late autumn! The front of the house is in full sun for most of the morning, so the sunshine that accompanied some bitterly cold days this last week has clearly given Phyllis a boost. Overall, however, she has still been outperformed by her predecessor, and needs to pull her socks up to justify her front-of-house position.

I feel sorry for gardeners who have no incentive to spend time in their gardens in January, especially on the more clement days like those we have had this week – with colder days due soon, however, it might be a matter of looking for tasks that can be carried out inside for a while! Now that the working greenhouse is up and running again (albeit currently sharing the space with the remnants of reconstruction and unpacked bags and crates) I can at least begin sowing seeds, starting them inside the house before moving them into the greenhouse upon germination.

I have no idea what has caused this ‘flame’ in the garden, but perhaps it really does symbolise the heart of it. I was not aware of the flame while I was working in the garden today, removing and cleaning the bricks from the low retaining wall at the back of one of the bold borders, and it only became evident when I looked at the photos later. Looking at the wider picture, when there was about a third of the wall left to remove and clean, you can see that there is a glass sculpture in the border but, at the time the picture was taken, the sun (and it was a sunny day) was behind me and to my right, so it wasn’t shining through the glass. Curiously, as I perched on my makeshift stool, chipping away at the bricks with my lump hammer and chisel, I found myself thinking of earlier civilisations, chipping away with bones and stones to make their artefacts – so could I perhaps have been joined by ghosts from the distant past, huddled round their fire for warmth…?

The gentlemen may well be resting and making merry but, never one to sit and twiddle my thumbs, I have suddenly found myself in the middle of another project. With only eight weeks until we open the garden again, it is not necessarily a sensible thing to be doing, but with a settled period of weather in the offing it was hard to resist, especially as the Golfer was very much up for the challenge. In fact, unusually, the project developed from an idea of his, a practical revision of the status quo, and began with stealing one of the cutting beds (above) and temporarily bagging it up (below):