I love this time of year, continued

 

First rose:

The Fru

 I do know–or anyway I once knew–that 'Fru' is 'Mrs' (ref a forum comment)–I'm afraid I just like the word.  Fru.   Dagmar, to my frivolous ear, sounds way too solemn.  Fru I'd have round for a cup of tea and a chat, and we'd probably like the same books.  Dagmar . . . Dagmar would always have clean fingernails, even when she'd been gardening, and she'd keep trying to get me to read books that would be good for me. 

She's already been out several days--the flower in front is already going over.

And . . .

She heard me talking about her and said, Pssst! Hurry up!

Second rose.  Old Blush is also out.  She is frelling covered in buds.  She'll be amazing in a week or so. 

Don't listen when they tell you you can't grow a proper full sized rose in a pot. She's six years old and doing fine.

Okay, Agnes, you'd better get a move on.  Agnes is also covered in gigantic fat buds however, and will be amazing in due course.  Especially the three-storey stem growing straight up.  Sigh.  I suppose I should get a lasso around her and tie her down.  I think putting her in facing Souvenir [de la Malmaison] has been giving her ideas (ahem) above her station.  Souvenir is also covered in buds, but they aren't getting ready to pop in the next three and a half minutes.  I can nonetheless tell you exactly when Souvenir's buds will open:  the moment the current drought ends in a downpour that will last . . . as long as it takes to frell all Souvenir's rain-allergic flowers. 

But speaking of amazing things in pots. 

Purple spider

No, that's really her name:  Purple Spider.  She's a macropetala clematis which means that over the years she will develop into an intense impenetrable tangle . . . but at least you don't have to prune her.*   She's also supposed to grow 6 to 8 feet, according to Taylors Clematis where I bought her.  http://www.taylorsclematis.co.uk/clematis-purple-spider.html   I bought her because I like her, and she'll also take a fair amount of shade.  Usually when some variety of a plant that likes sun is described as willing to tolerate shade, it means she will probably find shade rather quelling.  My purple spider isn't even in a very big pot . . . and this her third year she's fifteen feet and going on twenty.**  She is going to be a serious impenetrable jungle. 

One view of Robin's little pot problem

Yes, ha ha ha ha ha ha, come back when you finish laughing.  I have a pot problem.  A flower pot problem.  Pretty much the whole garden looks like this (and you know what the front steps look like) but this particular corner is looking toward my sitting room window with the kitchen door on your left in the wall facing you, and the wall on your right is my neighbour's kitchen.   You can see Purple Spider on the right and, oh, I almost forgot . . .  

I HAVE A TREE PEONY

I consider tree peonies to be terribly esoteric and exotic and scary, but they're suddenly all over the plant-fashion landscape, like lurid clematis a few years ago.  I'm guessing that other gardeners find them esoteric and scary however because they suddenly went on major sale toward the end of last season, it was like:  Buy a tin of gardening twine worth £2.99 and get a FREE TREE PEONY WORTH £1,000,000!  So, hey, I bought some twine.   It never occurred to me she'd actually grow up and flower.  Gee.  Also, I forget what her name is (and of course the label has disappeared) but she is supposed to be deep magenta pink, which she isn't, she's sort of a fuchsia purple, but it's still pretty spectacular.  I've just wasted about twenty minutes dorking around with my rudimentary and unsatisfactory photo-editing tools trying to get her colour anywhere near reality, and this isn't it.  It's just better than what my camera produced unaided.   Some things don't change much:   most of the reds were a ratbag on film too.

               But speaking of red, aren't these cute?

I've done far better for tulips this year than I deserve, considering how late most of them went in. Ahem. Cold winters are clearly good for something: keeping your tulips, still in brown paper bags in the greenhouse, in a good mood.

I have a thing for stripes, what can I tell you.

But speaking of red tulips, what about this one? 

Yowzah.

To Be Continued again. . . .

 * * *

* I try to stick with the Group 3 clematis, which you cut off a few inches above ground every winter.  You do have to do it, but at least it's simple.  I have a few Group 1s, which you allow to become a jungle.  I avoid the Group 2s, which you have to prune and pay attention to what you're doing, and even so you'll do it wrong.  Group 2s are the devil's clematis.  I have Nelly Moser anyway, who is a Group 2, because she was the first of the really in your face lurid ones before lurid clematis became a fashion accessory.   Nelly was vulgar.  http://www.about-garden.com/a/en/1491-clematis-nelly-moser-clematis/  I love her, of course.  I'll try to remember to take photos of my Nelly this year.

** It's a popular wall.  It's the wall where Mme Alfred Carriere is launching herself into space about thirty feet up over my semi-detached neighbour's rooftree, and Mme Gregoire Staechlin is not far behind.   Lady Hillingdon, only two years old, is gaining . . . and now we have Purple Spider who wasn't supposed to be a contender.