People sometimes express surprise when I inform them that I am not a houseplant person. Our houseplants, examples given below, fall into the 'hard to kill' category. Dr Hessian, author of The House Plant Expert advises, 'If all else fails grow Sansevieria.' We have two plants on either side of the fireplace which my husband acquired on a teaching assignment in north east London. Apparently these can flower in ideal conditions - not the case in our household.
A recent addition is Strelitzia (whose common name is Bird of Paradise) which Dr Hessian notes is 'surprisingly easy to grow'. This was the result of a repotting exercise for my family which resulted in one plant each. I am pleased to say it is now putting out a new furled leaf. I may have to wait some time - four to six years - before it blooms.
My third is a Christmas cactus which I have just learned from the book should be placed in a shady spot outdoors to allow the stems to harden during the summer. I am popping outside to do this very thing as soon as I finish this post. Thankfully keeping this plant cool in our flat roofed extension later in the autumn will not be difficult. This plant has also grown well since it arrived with a friend who propagated it for us.
I do not cherish houseplants. I leave them for weeks on end. But when they do put out new leaves like the first rosy tips of the Christmas cactus I am happy. Now all that remains to be seen is whether it will live up to its description as a 'shy bloomer' or thrive in restful summer shade on the side of our pantry.
Friday 29 June 2018
Thursday 28 June 2018
A Perfect Lawn?
An article in the July 2018 issue of the RHS magazine "The Garden" entitled 'Let your lawn go wild' lies behind the inspiration for this post, with the proviso that all views expressed in the post are my own and not to be attributed to any other person or body.
Lawn treatments are still in favour in our suburb if the local free magazine is to be believed. Before and after advertisements show a scrubby variegated lawn replaced after five doses with a healthy, uniformly green one. Vans visit our street on the same mission; transforming and then maintaining lawns. Whence did this fashion for a weed-free lawn arise? Was it from emulation of the rich and famous with their acres of greensward; the visits to pristine greens where many took their recreation in bowls; or did suburban householders of our previous century turn their attention to one of the few external matters they could control, their turf rolled and striped to geometric perfection? Could the human desire for seventy years of unbroken good health have extended to the transient grass, to which human flesh is so often compared?
At any rate, our lawn care is somewhere in the middle of the spectrum of views, roughly equivalent to the position we take on the use of plastics and the ecosystem, i.e. we cannot do without them completely, but endeavour to reduce our use whenever possible. Hence we, by which I mean my husband of course, still mow our lawn with an electric mower passed on to us by my family. But he does not mow as often in the summer and he sets the blades higher than was the fashion when we were growing up. This means that our lawn is chequered with clovers, daisies, buttercups and bugle. We use no weedkillers and no fertilisers and every so often remove plantains and such like by hand. Thus our lawn with its wild flowers is a like a little patch of the pre-World War Two pastures of lowland Lancashire.
The choice of lawn care is an individual one, as is the use of every back garden in this, our democratic society. All I can do is to urge you, if you are concerned about wildlife and your lawn, to adopt the well known slogan: 'think globally, act locally'. As you see the bumblebees and birds, once so common, descend on you, I believe you will consider yourself rewarded.
Lawn treatments are still in favour in our suburb if the local free magazine is to be believed. Before and after advertisements show a scrubby variegated lawn replaced after five doses with a healthy, uniformly green one. Vans visit our street on the same mission; transforming and then maintaining lawns. Whence did this fashion for a weed-free lawn arise? Was it from emulation of the rich and famous with their acres of greensward; the visits to pristine greens where many took their recreation in bowls; or did suburban householders of our previous century turn their attention to one of the few external matters they could control, their turf rolled and striped to geometric perfection? Could the human desire for seventy years of unbroken good health have extended to the transient grass, to which human flesh is so often compared?
At any rate, our lawn care is somewhere in the middle of the spectrum of views, roughly equivalent to the position we take on the use of plastics and the ecosystem, i.e. we cannot do without them completely, but endeavour to reduce our use whenever possible. Hence we, by which I mean my husband of course, still mow our lawn with an electric mower passed on to us by my family. But he does not mow as often in the summer and he sets the blades higher than was the fashion when we were growing up. This means that our lawn is chequered with clovers, daisies, buttercups and bugle. We use no weedkillers and no fertilisers and every so often remove plantains and such like by hand. Thus our lawn with its wild flowers is a like a little patch of the pre-World War Two pastures of lowland Lancashire.
The choice of lawn care is an individual one, as is the use of every back garden in this, our democratic society. All I can do is to urge you, if you are concerned about wildlife and your lawn, to adopt the well known slogan: 'think globally, act locally'. As you see the bumblebees and birds, once so common, descend on you, I believe you will consider yourself rewarded.
Wednesday 27 June 2018
Rocket running to seed
Running to seed in mortals has an unfortunate negative connotation and (unfairly) used to be applied mainly to athletic and manly men whose middle years led them to sad decline and debauchery; grubby ties and spreading paunches.
Our rocket is running to seed. I have culled a good harvest of salad leaves and it is now time to allow it to flower and set seed. The flowers are a pale yellow with darker veins, four petals arranged in a cross formation, showing its relation to mustard, faintly scented and ready for visiting hoverflies to land and gather nectar. I'm still watering it in this hot weather, but later will let it dry out completely and the seed pods will turn from green to brown. Then it will be time to store them in a paper bag ready to sow for next year's crop.
It is the same with our coriander, showing a mass of flowerets like cow parsley, also pollinated by delicate hoverflies of all sizes. Inside on the kitchen windowsill my husband keeps successionally sowing more coriander and basil as the summer progresses.
In two flowerpots I have sown red kale (last year's packet) in the hope that when the time comes to take up the rocket I will have a dozen or so young plants for the winter season. So our cycle of sowing and harvesting continues.
Our rocket is running to seed. I have culled a good harvest of salad leaves and it is now time to allow it to flower and set seed. The flowers are a pale yellow with darker veins, four petals arranged in a cross formation, showing its relation to mustard, faintly scented and ready for visiting hoverflies to land and gather nectar. I'm still watering it in this hot weather, but later will let it dry out completely and the seed pods will turn from green to brown. Then it will be time to store them in a paper bag ready to sow for next year's crop.
It is the same with our coriander, showing a mass of flowerets like cow parsley, also pollinated by delicate hoverflies of all sizes. Inside on the kitchen windowsill my husband keeps successionally sowing more coriander and basil as the summer progresses.
In two flowerpots I have sown red kale (last year's packet) in the hope that when the time comes to take up the rocket I will have a dozen or so young plants for the winter season. So our cycle of sowing and harvesting continues.
Monday 25 June 2018
Five Culinary Herbs
We were invited out to supper last week and along with a soft drink I took a bunch of our flowers, some home-grown salad leaves and a selection of our culinary herbs The flowers were well received; the scent of the Sweet Williams was lovely. (The soft drink, unopened, came home with us).
I asked myself afterwards if our herbs would have won any prizes at the horticultural society where we used to exhibit. Here are my notes.
Golden Oregano - yes, probably second prize. A profuse herb grown in full sun. Not flowering yet. We offered a flowering herb one year and the Secretary took the flowers off (this is the rule).
Sage - No. Originally grown in full sun but now partially shaded by a large broom tree from my family. Suffered in the cold and snowfall of this winter but now recovering.
Rosemary - I did not offer this. A 'rescue plant' also growing in the shade of the broom tree.
Fennel - sown in the wrong place. When will I ever learn that to infill herbs in a bed of veg. such as Broad Beans just does not work?
Basil - grown from seed by my husband very successfully. I cut the tops off so would not have been able to exhibit it in this condition.
Parsley - another success for the seed mat method. Strong and green.
Variegated Mint - came up again. Another survivor of the heavy snow. Now growing happily in a circular bed with fertile soil.
So on balance, I think we would have scraped a third prize. However given my knowledge of the keen entrants of shows past; we might have barely achieved a 'commended'.
I'm glad I don't compete any more
I asked myself afterwards if our herbs would have won any prizes at the horticultural society where we used to exhibit. Here are my notes.
Golden Oregano - yes, probably second prize. A profuse herb grown in full sun. Not flowering yet. We offered a flowering herb one year and the Secretary took the flowers off (this is the rule).
Sage - No. Originally grown in full sun but now partially shaded by a large broom tree from my family. Suffered in the cold and snowfall of this winter but now recovering.
Rosemary - I did not offer this. A 'rescue plant' also growing in the shade of the broom tree.
Fennel - sown in the wrong place. When will I ever learn that to infill herbs in a bed of veg. such as Broad Beans just does not work?
Basil - grown from seed by my husband very successfully. I cut the tops off so would not have been able to exhibit it in this condition.
Parsley - another success for the seed mat method. Strong and green.
Variegated Mint - came up again. Another survivor of the heavy snow. Now growing happily in a circular bed with fertile soil.
So on balance, I think we would have scraped a third prize. However given my knowledge of the keen entrants of shows past; we might have barely achieved a 'commended'.
I'm glad I don't compete any more
Thursday 21 June 2018
Allotment at Home
I am beginning to hope that in our fourth summer in the north west that we have at last achieved the 'allotment at home' that was our dream as we instigated our move in summer 2014. In this morning's midsummer sun my husband finished netting the ripening blackcurrants against our tame and friendly blackbird family. He has already netted the strawberries against our not-so-tame or pampered pigeons. My loose leaf cabbages are doing well in a raised bed, better than I recollect on our allotment and so far there is limited snail damage and no caterpillars.
Our rocket is flowering as we get ready to save seed for next season. Meanwhile cut flowers for the house bloom as our home-grown Sweet Williams and potted up 'rescue' pinks scent the air. The broad beans, now propped up with twigs have recovered from the gales and are swelling their pods and the runners after a second start with fresh seed are beginning to twine up their twigs.
It is my great privilege to open the back door and pick my own 'living salad' from the salad crib and the raised bed where the spring onions have reached salad proportions. They are topped up with the occasional local lettuce or cucumber from our store most times bearing a 'grown in Lancashire sticker'.
I am fortunate that we have the time, health and resources for all this. My as yet un-realised dream would be to demonstrate to others that with faith, family and finance (for the essentials), home-grown food is delightful, do-able and delicious.
Our rocket is flowering as we get ready to save seed for next season. Meanwhile cut flowers for the house bloom as our home-grown Sweet Williams and potted up 'rescue' pinks scent the air. The broad beans, now propped up with twigs have recovered from the gales and are swelling their pods and the runners after a second start with fresh seed are beginning to twine up their twigs.
It is my great privilege to open the back door and pick my own 'living salad' from the salad crib and the raised bed where the spring onions have reached salad proportions. They are topped up with the occasional local lettuce or cucumber from our store most times bearing a 'grown in Lancashire sticker'.
I am fortunate that we have the time, health and resources for all this. My as yet un-realised dream would be to demonstrate to others that with faith, family and finance (for the essentials), home-grown food is delightful, do-able and delicious.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)