Garden Update
Mar. 27th, 2010 02:09 pmToday is proving chaotic. I went into Glasgow this morning, and did a little shopping etc. Forgot the camera - and was frustrated, because I saw loads of picture opportunities everywhere I went. Though I must confess that Bellakara's blog probably does enough for Glasgow tourism to render my efforts worthless...
Later on this afternoon, I have pledged two hours of my time to help my father sort out his somewhat cluttered house (!). Wish me luck, folks...
I know I still owe everyone a post on henges and all things hengiform, and I'm gearing up to it, I promise. Hopefully, I'll have the energy and the inclination to put fingers to keyboard tomorrow.
In the meantime, here's a garden update. The hellebores are almost all in bloom now, so I've included another couple of pictures.
Firstly, the green hellebore... When I was very small, I remember my grandmother did a lot of embroidery. Floral embroidered tableclothes were her speciality. One day, she asked me to decide what colour I wanted the next flower to be. "Green," I said. "You don't get green flowers," she told me. But I stuck to my guns. And somewhere, lost in the morass that is my father's house, there is a tablecloth with a green flower on it.
It was some years later that I learned that you do indeed get green flowers. Dog's Mercury is one example. And, of course, hellebores. I have a soft spot for this green hellebore as a result:-
Later on this afternoon, I have pledged two hours of my time to help my father sort out his somewhat cluttered house (!). Wish me luck, folks...
I know I still owe everyone a post on henges and all things hengiform, and I'm gearing up to it, I promise. Hopefully, I'll have the energy and the inclination to put fingers to keyboard tomorrow.
In the meantime, here's a garden update. The hellebores are almost all in bloom now, so I've included another couple of pictures.
Firstly, the green hellebore... When I was very small, I remember my grandmother did a lot of embroidery. Floral embroidered tableclothes were her speciality. One day, she asked me to decide what colour I wanted the next flower to be. "Green," I said. "You don't get green flowers," she told me. But I stuck to my guns. And somewhere, lost in the morass that is my father's house, there is a tablecloth with a green flower on it.
It was some years later that I learned that you do indeed get green flowers. Dog's Mercury is one example. And, of course, hellebores. I have a soft spot for this green hellebore as a result:-
It has a lovely dark red, netted pattern on the interior which this photograph unfortunately doesn't show, but if it lifts up its head a bit in the next few weeks, I'll post a picture. It was one of our 'lucky dip' hellebores, and although subtle, it's still attractive.
Two pictures of my 'Old Faithful' hellebores follow. Big, established, and welcome features at this time of year.
Two pictures of my 'Old Faithful' hellebores follow. Big, established, and welcome features at this time of year.
You'll be relieved to hear that hellebore time is coming to an end. Everything else is jostling in the wings: brunnera, pulmonaria, and daffodils.
Now things are returning to normal, I've been able to take stock of the damage. The berberis that I'd dismissed as a lost cause (stem snapped under the snow) appears to have survived, but I've lost a lot of plants so the garden's going to have been restocked, which is quite an exciting prospect. But... The auricula have survived, which is brilliant, and they're actually in bud! Auricula are notoriously hard to grow - I've tried before and lost them, but I think I've got the secret now!
And this morning, I sighted a mouse in the garden. This is actually good news. We've co-existed with mice for years - they don't come into the house, so I don't object to them. They hoover up spilt bird seed and generally don't cause any trouble.
Last year they vanished - it turned out that rats had moved in under our neighbour's shed. With the rats around, the mice were too scared to hang about. The rats were dispatched, poor things (we all agreed that rats were unacceptable garden guests!!). Now the mice are back, which suggests that the rat problem is over.
That's the problem with trying to attract wildlife into the garden - you can't complain when the less welcome guests decide to take advantage of the free board and lodging.
The weather's very pleasant at the moment, but the latest word from the Met Office is that it's going to snow next week...
Now things are returning to normal, I've been able to take stock of the damage. The berberis that I'd dismissed as a lost cause (stem snapped under the snow) appears to have survived, but I've lost a lot of plants so the garden's going to have been restocked, which is quite an exciting prospect. But... The auricula have survived, which is brilliant, and they're actually in bud! Auricula are notoriously hard to grow - I've tried before and lost them, but I think I've got the secret now!
And this morning, I sighted a mouse in the garden. This is actually good news. We've co-existed with mice for years - they don't come into the house, so I don't object to them. They hoover up spilt bird seed and generally don't cause any trouble.
Last year they vanished - it turned out that rats had moved in under our neighbour's shed. With the rats around, the mice were too scared to hang about. The rats were dispatched, poor things (we all agreed that rats were unacceptable garden guests!!). Now the mice are back, which suggests that the rat problem is over.
That's the problem with trying to attract wildlife into the garden - you can't complain when the less welcome guests decide to take advantage of the free board and lodging.
The weather's very pleasant at the moment, but the latest word from the Met Office is that it's going to snow next week...