Showing posts with label Honeysuckle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Honeysuckle. Show all posts

Thursday, 14 May 2020

Potted Cacti Plus Our Garden's Wild Area

The same acquaintance who gave us all those miniature dormant roses this past winter had bestowed upon us a couple of potted cacti earlier in the autumn. Echinopsis oxygona, known as Easter Lily cactus, also called the sea urchin cactus, has fragrant, lavender-pink blooms with long floral tubes which are pollinated by moths. Flowering overnight, they give quite a show the following morning though they are not long-lasting, wilting shortly afterwards. The smaller pot is filled with massed, small candle shapes with bright, orange-red flowers. I am guessing they are Echinopsis chamaecereus whose common name is the peanut cactus. Most cacti are from and adapted to dry regions, though a few thrive in tropical and subtropical areas. After their photo shoot, they were returned to a deeply recessed, south-facing sous sol window sill so as to be sheltered from any surprise rain and to get as much solar heat as possible.


When being gazed from directly above, the Easter Lily cactus flower bears some resemblance to a lotus.


Most of its 'stem' is hollow.


Though pollinated by moths, another type of insect, most likely a bee, was having fun inside the deep interior. It was stumbling about, its head well dusted with pollen, so much so, that it just might be possible there's a tiny, mirrored vanity plus a pot of loose powder replete with a puff hidden in the floral tube's depths! It then climbed up with the help of a very impressive stigma to the petal area.


When our acquaintance was giving me the pots and snipping off bits from an extensive collection flanking an eaves-shielded, south-facing side of her house, The Calm One was visually communicating from our Zoe the Electric Car via subtle facial expressions that he had been ready to depart about a half a hour ago. Therefore the giving of cacti care info was very briefsun, not much water. The first on-hands lesson once arriving chez nous was painfully learning that wearing leather gloves when intimately handling cacti as in potting up (use a mix just for cacti!) any remnants is essential, not to mention that skin punctures can result in irritation or rashes. After all, those sharp structures are protective against animals chomping on the plant. In general, cacti can not tolerate temperatures much below freezing and during summer, may need watering as frequently as twice weekly. This winter was mild, but if necessary, they may have to go into the cold frame in the future. A small amount of balanced liquid fertiliser should be added to the watering can. To snip off blooms, cut just above the fuzzy base which eventually will become more of the plant.


The garden was neglected for two years before we acquired the property a decade ago. I knew I had to pace myself in getting it into reasonable shape. Being on a limited budget at that time, my priority was to grow food which I never had done so the learning curve was steep, actually the incline turned out to be dizzying. So when I noticed a patch of brambles growing under the dying cherry tree, I decided, ah, let it go for a while. Well that while stretched out further into time than desired, and seeing growth midway up to my height, I decided, let it be. The wild area was born. Ivy, laurel, Italian arum, sweet violets, honeysuckle, bay laurel, blue bells, and leather-leafed viburnum were either already there, seeded from elsewhere, or planted from cuttings/divisions of existing established plants. Mostly the earth was uncovered and the wire fence perimeters open to viewing from the outside. Today, it's the reverse. It's hard to catch a glimpse of soil (except for the veggie beds) or sneak much of a peak into what is a lush garden with sturdy, mature green 'bones' like ivy, laurel, and bay laurel. In the below photo, on the left, blackberry and raspberry bushes signal the end of the cultivated garden while on the right, brambles and sweet violets announce the wild area's beginning.


Looking towards the east (I am standing amidst a riot of honeysuckle), right into the heart of the wildest part of this less tended part of our verdant paradise, I know that thorns would stop me from just going where I want to go, so the path surrounding this tall mass of green often alive with a great many starlings will be followed. The more open area is where prunings are put while awaiting chipping and compost piles do their thing.


This is the most eastern edge of the wild area; that bit of white is a large shed that used to house the previous owners' recreational vehicle and now is filled with lavender cuttings waiting to be chipped and various junk, all topped with a sagging roof. Beautifully hidden, I say!


A little further west, the shed's entrance can be spied.


Here's a closeup of the honeysuckle growing over a hedge and sprawling on the ground. My horticultural perpspective is to keep only a small part of the wild area truly unkept while the outside edges are pruned so it's a surprise when the garden's central cement path is followed to its end to see just how woodsy it becomes. Remember that dying cherry tree? Its chopped up branches circle the bramble-covered thick trunk, all rotting away which is excellent for fungi and for emitting a forest fragrance. I regard extension lopers and line strimers as sculpture tools to undulate emerald waves and shape green geometry. I just love how ongoing it all is as I am guided by what nature is doing.


À la prochaine!

Wednesday, 23 May 2018

Deutzia, Lavender, Roses & Honeysuckle

Our two and a half metre (eight-foot) Deutzia scabra has awakened from its slumber. When a bud loosens up a bit before opening into gorgeous double blooms, the distribution of rosy colour mimics lips smudged with lipstick. This was the bush that for seven years I whacked to the ground thinking it was a pesky weed. Two years ago, for some reason I forgot to raze it to the ground yet again and surprise, a beauty was born. It has graceful, drooping branches, interesting sepals, moderate fragrance, and attractive bark.


The below photo shows the bottom of the vase-shaped bush. Not captured by my camera is how it splays out towards its top like a huge vessel overflowing with numerous blooms.


Because of that, it cosies up to anything close by, like Queen Elizabeth roses . . .


. . . and bearded iris foliage . . .


 . . . and just-beginning-to-bloom lavender.


Constellation upon constellation of flowers, delicate but sharply cut like paper art, present a stunning display.


If they weren't stylish enough, nature decided to go all out and cap them with snug, suede, olive-green sepals.


I still haven't been able to identify this quartered, huge, deeply fragrant, glowing coral rose.


This variety of honeysuckle has violet and white flowers when freshly opened.


However it starts out as elongated, magenta buds and ends up as deep-ivory with spent pollen.


À la prochaine!

Thursday, 31 August 2017

A Nippy Morn=Oatmeal

Peaches, butter, and cinnamon topping oatmeal is a treat on a cool, late-summer morning. The peach harvest is now finished with a yield of about eighteen kilograms/forty pounds.


Most of those peaches have been eaten or processed. But no bowl of oatmeal chez nous should fear not being adorned with fresh fruit. Because? Figs! Our tree puts out two harvests, a small one in spring, and the main and larger one in late-summer/early autumn. They must be picked ripe as they will not mature any further once off the tree. When ready, it will fall into a cupped hand after a slight downward pressure is applied on its point of attachment. Plus, it will feel and look like a tight balloon ready to break.

Not fully ripe figs taste chalky

Though I try to keep all our fruit trees not much taller than myself, the fig tree is just too exuberant to be tamed that way.

The birds get the ones that are too high for me to harvest

Figs in various stages of ripening festoon a branch.


Farewell, peaches.  Hello, figs!

That golden, gooey lusciousness tastes as good as it looks

The tomato harvest is slowing down. So far, forty-five kilograms/one-hundred pounds either have been eaten or processed.


Potatoes are being dug up every day. The Calm One scavenged a pallet to put on the cellier floor so they will be well ventilated.

An old duvet cover is used to keep the taters in the dark

There's a honeysuckle bloom here and there. It doesn't matter how few there are, their fragrance still suffuses the air.


The zinnias are going strong and have been since July. Sedum Autumn Joy is setting buds.

Autumn Joy provides nectar for bees and seeds for birds, plus a whole lot of prettiness

Eli the Kitten at ten months of age is going strong too and takes his assistant photographer job seriously, sometimes too seriously. When I scold him that he is underfoot and is slowing me down, he meows that such pauses help my concentration.

I don't know, maybe the orange zinnias would have made a better shot?

À la prochaine!

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

Plum & Blue/Blackberry Melba

Peach Melba is a classic dessert consisting of a poached-in-syrup, vanilla-ice-cream-filled peach-half dressed with raspberry sauce. Simple but scrumptious at the same time, it's wonderful on a late-summer day, echoing the season's mellowing towards autumn. However, there were only plums along with blue and blackberries available from our potager. The smaller plum pinch-hitting for a peach meant a reasonable serving can consist of both halves, hence, two different ice cream flavours could be chosen without any loss of decorum.

Scoops of vanilla & coffee ice cream topped with peeled plums and blue/blackberry coulis

Plums, unlike peaches, when very ripe, can be peeled without poaching. The plum I used was so ripe, it resembled a small, water-filled purple balloon. Once halved and pitted, its skin was eased off with a sharp knife. Not poaching the plum means this version is easier and quicker to make than the original while augmenting its fresh impact.

Variety of plum is d'Ente which is often dried to make prunes

Put a handful of berries (three-quarters blackberries, the rest blueberries) in a sieve placed over a bowl. Squash them first between your fingers, then finish mashing them with a fork against the strainer. Sweeten the juice to taste with confectioner's/powdered sugar. Position a scoop of vanilla ice cream next to one of coffee on a dessert plate. Drape a plum-half over each and douse with berry coulis. Garnish with a few berries.

Instead of filling the halves, topping with plums allows for much more ice cream!

Here's the vanilla ice cream.

It brightens the heavier flavours of plum and berries

And the coffee ice cream.

Coffee, blackberry & plum comprise a heady trio

Halfway through eating, I unexpectedly heard myself exclaiming, this is the best dessert I have ever had. The words were uttered, it seemed, on their own accord. And I doubt that my experience will be duplicated. Perfection often can't be repeated. The ripeness, temperature, depth of flavour of the fruits, proportion of ingredients, and other variables like the eater's sensory perception and psychological state at the moment are all an one-off. But I am sure that any future ones will be pretty good! Who knows, I may tempt fate and add a splash of fruity red wine to the coulis.

Ice cream well marbled with berry coulis & a glistening chunk of plum

In the potager, Joie de la Table, a French variety, carries its medium-sized tomatoes en grappes (in clusters).

The Calm One's tomato structure has proven worthy:  all 12 tuteurs are holding their own

Haricots verts (green beans) flowered well, and now, tiny, adorable pods are beginning to form. Since they grow so fast, it's important to check daily so they are picked before becoming fibrous and, therefore, less delectable.

Growing your own makes it possible to harvest green beans at their most tender

Corno di Toro Rosso red peppers are impressive in their size and taste. This Italian variety is piquant and juicy. Hopefully, enough will mature by the end of September so tons of Roasted Sweet Red Pepper & Garlic Spread/Dip can be made.

Shaped like a bull's horn (per its name), this particular pepper is nearly a foot (30 cm) long

Honeysuckle continues to flower as it wraps itself over a heap of slow-decomposing prunings from trees and shrubs. Their incomparable and exceeding lovely fragrance makes bringing garden and kitchen detritus to a nearby fast-compost pile a delight.


NOTE:  Souped-up Garden will be taking a two-week break. See you then!

RELATED POSTS

Musings about Peach Melba and my attempt to make it

Wednesday, 25 May 2016

Our Potager at the End of a Very Busy May

As a grower of fresh produce, I never know if weather conditions will allow getting into the ground soon enough what I planned to do way back in the quiet of winter.

Pods for sure, but half of the patch is still at the flowering stage

Peas and new potatoes need to be planted early in the season which would be around late February/early March in southwest France. Their maturity takes about three months from sowing and requires cool temperatures, especially les petit pois. This season they were introduced into their soil home in April which means end-of-June harvesting. Hopefully there won't be a canicule (heat-wave) occurring before then!

Flowers usually signal potato harvesting is close; no blooms yet for this Artemis variety

The tomato seedlings were developed enough for planting in mid-April but various cold snaps prevented that from happening. Instead of being too frustrated, I took comfort from the French version of the European traditional rule-of-thumb, that is, les saintes de glace, which govern when outdoor spring planting is safe from cold temperatures. There is an ice saint for each of three days in mid-May, but the really big shot is St. Urbain (link in French) who is the final arbiter. Since his day falls on May 25, I tell myself that it is perfectly OK that the tomatoes went in just today.

The bed was staked shortly after

Shallots were planted for the first time. What an engaging grouping of perky green tufts!

These delicious & versatile aromatics are fantastic culinary additions

Since annual vegetables can be so challenging in terms of planting deadlines, perennial edibles are a welcome relief.

Blackberries are beginning to fruit

This winter our small peach tree (pruned to keep it manageable) was sprayed* for the first time with Bordeaux mixture to combat a very persistent case of leaf curl (caused by the fungus Taphrina deformans). Then after leafing out, it was sprayed with a different product to vanquish the ever ingenious blackfly (the sometimes winged black aphid). Ants love their sticky excretions so much that they protect the aphids from predators.

Not many peaches, but they are all clean of insect goo

In the flower garden, peonies are shaking out their ruffled, deep-pink petals.

Lavender in the background

The David Austin climbing rose, Falstaff, is showing off its deeply fragrant, quartered, crimson-touched-with-purple blooms in cascades.


Mixing with the scent of the bi-coloured Bourbon rose, Ferdinand Pichard, is the perfume of entwining honeysuckle.


Taking a break from tomato planting could not be better spent than being ensconced under the pergola flanked by these flowers which regale both the eyes and the nose. 


À la prochaine!

*Spraying is done on windless, dry days via an applicator filled with the right dilution of the appropriate product.