Late Winter 2019: Colourful Gardening Accessories, Decorative Blown Glass Flowers, Early Blooms & Cat

Time to mosey down to the neighbourhood plant nursery . . . most certainly . . . but with a list please, said my adult to my inner child.

Sturdy but still flexible gloves, chitting potatoes, blue-flowered sunhat & flower seed packets

Chartreuse sabots! I knew the size of the old pair was too large, but I had no desire to hobble on one leg to try on a better fitting pair, or so I thought, until I spied a slim, portable bench placed strategically near the racks of shoes. So not only did I snag probably the most beautiful colour available, I won't be stumbling over my own sabots this season. Not to mention I will be treading on the most cushiony peau de pêche (peach skin!) with which these lightweight sabots are lined.

From the vantage point of my lounge chair under the ivy-draped pergola

Stained glass is a great love of mine. If I had my way all the windows in the world would be stained glass as nothing is more merrier than dancing light. But I make do, as in this case, with Museum Selection's (same place where I ordered that wonderful, blue-flowered, linen hat in the first photo) trio of blown glass flowers. From the online catalogue's photo, it seemed that they would be fairly small and delicate instead of the flamboyant, large beauties they turned out to be. The pansy is bursting with many colours.

The bluebell is more demure, but still, what a charmer.

I stuck it in a large tub of blueberries

Though the pansy and bluebell are gorgeous beyond belief, it is the foxglove that exerts a trance-like influence upon me as I find myself peering into swirling depths of seemingly liquid burgundy longer than an industrious gardener should be doing.

Though our 'lawn' has been cut several times already, I do try to spare the dandelions because insects including bees appreciate them for nectar and pollen, especially during this time when there is little else blooming. The perky english daisies (Bellis perennis) however are all over the place as their kind is wont to do, so I leave a selected expanse of them alone. It's easy, even for me, an avid and knowledgeable gardener to take nature for granted, as in what we see is what is, for example how pollinators are attracted to flowers. Sure enough, chemistry, that is, colour and scents are no brainers. But how about this?

Pollinators are attracted to flowers by chemical and structural features. One of these structural features may [be] the interaction of light with regularly arranged, microscopic surface features. The ray florets of Bellis perennis have distinct microscopic furrows produced by cylindrical, transversely-striated cells. Under laboratory conditions these surface features produce diffraction patterns which may attract insect pollinators. However, under natural light conditions these effects are lost, indicating that such features are unlikely to attract the natural pollinators of Bellis. In Bellis, pollinators are likely to be attracted by the contrast between the capitulum's ray and tube florets. (Source)

Triumph tulips (Seadov) have those characteristics of red nail polish, that is, being remarkably shiny and deeply pigmented, but just in their case, also being as soft as a spring breeze.

Heather is just past peak bloom & rose foliage is sprouting as are calla lilies

Blossoms on the peach tree are opening. Each day I peer into their centres, hoping to see a tiny peach. When I do, then I know I do not need to worry any longer about a surprise freeze killing the blooms before they can be pollinated.

A well-loved garden colour combination of mine is pink and blue; the former is provided by a plum cherry tree while the latter by flowering rosemary.

View from the east side of our house towards the front garden

Dirac the Cat has many places where he naps, but sleeping on the sous sol potting room's padded window sill is one of his favourites. Bags of potting mix wait patiently while I get around to making up flats and pots for seedlings.

Spot the lounge chair! Clue: it's the same colour as the peach blossoms

À la prochaine!

The Bloomin' Rain!

Days of rain. And mud. But also flowers!  The little troop of about two dozen, cherry-red Darwin hybrid tulips are showing off their bold colour, alluring sheen, and elegant blooms. 

Tulips for the most part are not as reliable as daffodils, therefore they are worth planting each fall for an incomparable jolt of Spring colour.

Iberis sempervirens (candytuft) is an evergreen ground cover that blooms the same time as many spring bulbs. The dying foliage of knobby-rooted flowering plants stores nourishment for future blossoms. But being in a state of decline is not pretty so candytuft does a fantastic job of covering up limp and yellowed leaves.

White species (this type does return reliably each spring) tulips and candytuft

We recently tootled off in our electric Zoe to the south of chez nous. The Calm One dropped me off at a plant nursery as he needed to go to one of several community associations with which he is involved as consultant, tinkerer, and teacher. Whipping out my list, I got loads (OK, OK a few unlisted items found their way into my cart!):  bulbs to plant now for summer blooming like tuberous begonias and dahlias, potting mix for indoor tomato sowing, potted herbs/veggies like chives/basil/sweet red peppers, treatment for black spot in roses, 2-9-9 fertiliser for tomatoes/strawberries, and . . .

. . . wondrous dehydrated horticultural mix. A pot only needs to be one-third full and then watered copiously. Voila, before you know it, you got a completely filled container. Yes, baby! Did I say that it is light as a feather? I was able to tuck the bag under my arm as if it was a pillow. Upon The Calm One's return (I had told him via the portable, that is, mobile phone, that I and the contents of my cart were ready to be picked up), we unloaded the groaning cart into the roomy hatchback boot of the Zoe, and then sans fumes and noise, we zipped on back home. Life, at times, can be a breeze.

Peas are always a challenge to grow in southwest France. They have to be sowed by mid-March to avoid the heat of summer which is significant by June, but the soil also has to be workable which is hard to do with all the rain. Happily, those conditions were met and there will be peas this season! The day after planting, the rain considerately did the watering for me. The bed is covered with horticultural fleece to stop the starlings from disturbing the seeds as birds know when cultivation is happening. I had left the area briefly and on my way back, I saw a gleaming and deceptively black beauty flying away from that bed with a squiggling worm in its beak.

The fleece allows rain and sunlight to get through to the planting

Within a day or two, rhubarb harvesting will begin!

The middle plant is small because it is recovering from being forced last season

The strawberries are putting out more and more flowers so it's time to scratch-in around each plant some fertiliser high in phosphorus and potassium like the one with a NPK of 2-9-9 which I recently bought.

The overwintered leeks are doing well

Our getting two colds in three months plus the inclement weather stopped The Great Iris Transplant in its tracks as lengthening days and abundant rain have resulted in their becoming bushy and close to flowering. So transplanting will wait until after their blooming.

Pink perennial geraniums are popping up on the middle right

À la prochaine!