Autumn Advances

Days are becoming shorter and colours more sombre. Nearly two months of steady rain have also contributed to the lessening of light where it seems each day is just one premature, sustained gloaming. Semi-evergreen penstemon with their claret-coloured blooms are still going as they have been since early summer therefore making themselves especially valuable for smaller gardens like ours where every plant must work harder and longer in providing visual interest regardless what season. In larger gardens, the gaps resulting from short-lived displays don't dominate as much because there's always something of interest somewhere. Root veggies, planted just six to eight weeks ago, are getting closer to harvest. Their lush foliage is a welcomed contrast to withered and falling leaves, but I must say I enjoy the satisfying crunch of dead leaves underfoot!

Violet turnips are gleaming like huge amethysts. 

Carrots need another month to become mature.

But until then, the small, tender carrots which are thinned out to allow others to grow larger will have to do. And they do very well indeed when they are briefly simmered in butter and a bit of water. The water evaporates leaving the carrots with the most scrumptious glaze made by the butter and the sugar naturally occurring in these garden-fresh baby carrots.

The strawberry bed has put out many runners; twelve of them have been potted up in a recycled shallow container. The rest of the runners have been clipped and put on the compost so as not to choke the original plants' growth. Strawberry plants become less productive with each passing year, necessitating propagation every season. This coming spring, these runners will have developed enough roots to be transplanted into a bed which haven't had any strawberries planted for several years as strawberries are disease-prone and must be rotated. In early summer, four-year, hardly productive plants will be removed after harvest. As the bed empties through time, other crops are planted  Strawberries are worth all the trouble as our freezer can attest: container after container of slightly sugared, delectable berries waiting to be put into smoothies, cobblers, and more simply, served in their own syrup and dressed with vanilla-flavoured whipped cream.

Autumn is an excellent time for planting new arrivals and relocating existing ones. Sixteen laurel plants which came from cuttings of established laurels on our property were transplanted from their three-year-old nursery bed. I did one most days. The steady rainfall kept the soil at the right moisture level throughout the three-week period so not only the holes could be spaded easily but also sieved compost from our pile could be incorporated readily with the dug-up earth. The newbies will lengthen the existing hedge to completely flank the back garden's eastern boundary. The splendid but self-seeded and rather large rose of Sharon which has pressed itself against the fence presented a problem but my solution so far seems to be working. After digging a few trial holes, I could see no competing roots. I did give the bush's expansive branches a good pruning so I could work around it, digging and transplanting. The 'hedglings' are positioned around ninety centimetres (three feet) from the wire fence so as to allow an alley where I can go to clip and trim behind the hedge. 

Across the back garden, along the opposite boundary fence, the five Leyland cypress trees which were planted last autumn, mostly developed roots this season, reserving energy so they can grow an astonishing ninety centimetres (three feet) next year. They will fill in the space left by the much slower-growing ivy which has covered the majority of that fence and all of a cement wall. As with many serendipitous pairings, as the ivy became more and more of a background for the red rose already planted there I slowly realised that one of the most spectacular colour combos is a floriferous cloud of red roses being framed by a tall expanse of stalwart, dark-green ivy. The cypress will elaborate further on that theme.

The trees grew only thirty centimetres (one foot) this summer. But once they get going, they need at least four trims per year or else there will be a dark, brooding forest on that side! Therefore I use them very sparingly as they gallop away with growth before you can locate your shears. Since neighbours seldom appreciate being shrouded in gloom and gigantic trees are not able to be felled with clippers, it is not uncommon for these lovely trees to be the basis for legal disputes.

The potted bougainvillea has started to present their true flowers, tiny white blooms in the centres of gorgeous crimson sepals. That cheery yellow around the pot's base is provided by perennial snapdragons which have self-sowed in the cracked patio and have decided to perform a second show after their early summer debut.

Giant lavender which has been blooming since August is holding onto some of its flowers. A peony's burnished foliage complements the bluish spikes.

À la prochaine!

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Late Spring Garden 2019

The potager is humming along, revving up its growth rate to take on the summer push which will lead into late summer/autumnal harvesting: peas, potatoes, green beans, peaches, figs, and blackberries to name a few.

The old pear tree festooned with golden trumpet vine which borders the ivy-covered pergola marks the boundary between the back and west gardens. That soft-pink cloud off in the distance is the front garden's deutzia.

On the right of the back garden's main path is the pergola and a potted bougainvillea on an upturned planter. Before its lofty positioning, it was on the open patio across the path, basking in the sun and getting drenched in the rain. The sun part was fine, but being soaked frequently wasn't, at least not for abundant blooming. Last summer, after decorating the beginning of the path with two flanking potted plants, one being the bougainvillea, I noticed it put out many more flowers than usual even though it received less sun. After a little research I found out why. It needs drought stress in order to bloom. Being under the pergola protected it from rains. Presently, it is watered only when the top four inches of potting mix is dry.

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Its companion this season will be potted Thunbergia alata (Black-eyed Susan vine) which will as it grows be trained upon tuteurs. There were some dusty dried seedpod decorated sticks stuck in the wood cabinet under the indoors barbecue since moving here about ten years ago, and I finally found an use for them! The anticipated effect will be both height and draping over its pedestal. The pot in front which also contains the vine, but has a purple flowering ivy geranium to provide contrasting colour to the yellow-blooming black-eyed Susan, will go out to the front steps. The pot in front of that, yup, you guessed it, also filled with Thungbergia will be put on the balcony overlooking the front garden. The many Thunbergia along with trailing blue lobelia seedlings were started indoors late winter. The lobelia will graced the four, small casement window sills on the west side of the house, a basket under the pergola, and a huge pot on the shady part of the balcony. Here's hoping my grand plan works (historically they tend not to)! Since a path that goes nowhere, in this case, smack right against an unattractive back wall, begs for something to catch your eye, I plonked a garden chair at the path's end. In the future, a potted camellia and a mirror instead? At present, I love sitting in the chair, from which a very different perspective of the garden is to be had.

It is my wont to buy plants from online nurseries which often have much younger and less expensive plants than at the local garden centres. Greater choice, also. So where do these baby plants go when they first arrive as usually they are too small to make visual impact? In nursery beds of course. This year-and-half-old bed has penstenmon, moss pink, teucrium, a mum, three Mikado daylilies, and six laurels that were taken as cuttings from the existing hedge. They will be put in their permanent locations either this early autumn or next spring depending on their growth this season and the state of my muscle strength.

The front garden (looking towards a neighbour) is a pleasing jumble of drooping red weigela, overflowing pink deutzia, and exuberant lavender.

Bloom cuddle!

Peonies look good near bearded iris foliage and lavender.

If using for culinary and cosmetic purposes, it is best to harvest lavender when still in bud form.

Right by the driveway gate are pots of shade-loving plants as the terracotta roofing tile framed bed filled with our own wood chips luxuriates under cherry plum and box elder trees: three heucheras (tiramisu, Georgia peach, paprika), polystichum sword fern, tuberous begonia, hellebore, and the latest but not least, the centrepiece gardenia.

Gardenias and I go a ways back, first in California where it hardly bloomed because the soil was too alkaline but still made me fall in love with its beauty, then another specimen on our Grenoble tenth floor balcony, where it flourished for a decade while keeping me company and regaled me with its heady fragrance during long hours of day trading in a tiny room, and finally when arriving here, it was put in the ground and soon after perished in the cold. If ever a plant could be called a friend, that gardenia would have fit the bill. This one's container was filled with acid potting mix and will spend the winter in the sous-sol, thank you very much.

À la prochaine!

Fruit, Veg, Flowers & Feline

Fresh April green here and there has morphed into verdant lushness all over. The first fig crop is forming while the second and more substantial one will happen in autumn.

Little fuzzy olive-green eggs are dotting the peach tree.

The strawberry harvest at present is enough for making a strawberry banana smoothie every other day. Peak production will be reached in several weeks.

Rhubarb is being picked now, the peas will be in a few weeks, and the potatoes at end of July.

The soft green of fennel (the herb, not the bulb) cosies up to flowering sage.

Comfrey is putting out young leaves and buds. It's an amazing plant for other plants as it is used as a fertiliser tea and a compost accelerator.

The weigela's flower-laden branches are draping the front garden in crimson.

The peony is continuing to set just a few blooms as I suspect the last couple of winters were too mild to give it the cold required for abundant flowering.

Hardy miniature gladioli loves to self sow where I dare not to as in smack up to this ivy-covered pergola pillar.

The Ferdinand Pichard Bourbon rose is paying no attention to Dirac the Cat napping in the southwest sous sol window as all of its blooms are leaning directly towards the south to get as much sun exposure as possible.

À la prochaine!

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. 

The First Strawberries of the Season...and peonies & more roses!

It's looking like the strawberry harvest will not be as abundant as last year's, but still what a treat to have gariguettes straight from the garden and crowned with freshly whipped, sugared cream or as it's called here, crème chantilly.

To prevent the berries from getting waterlogged when washing them, rinse them before you remove the stem.

Gariquettes have the most fantastic taste and gorgeous fragrance. In addition, their 'belly button' is an outie so slicing off that end is an easy task.

The Calm One who is the official whipper of cream chez nous saved me some for topping my hot cocoa later on in the day. Though the seventy-five seed potatoes and twenty-eight tomatoes are in the ground, the melon, pepper, winter squash, cucumber, zinnia, and black-eyed Susan vine transplants not only still need to be done but done within the next week along with outdoor sowing of green beans, carrots, and beets. So I have been hitting the hot cocoa hard. You know, for stamina. Those spring winds can be quite nippy.

Peonies usually don't do that well in our garden because of the heat and lack of rain, but with this constant moisture they are luxuriant.

This variety has a fragrance reminiscent of both lilacs and roses.

The lavender in the foreground is showing a hint of colour

For cut flowers, I choose buds just beginning to open.

These were picked during a rainy twilight

The next morning, they were put into a vase and accented with fennel. Though I use this herb for pickling, I am beginning to think that its best application is in flower arranging.

They eventually will unfold their petals in the captivating way that peonies have.

The only yellow rose in our garden is Golden Showers, a climber that puts out tremendous clusters of blooms.

The purple-pink background is a mass of soapwort

The Queen Elizabeth hedge rose is reaching for the sky...

...while the calla lilies are increasing in number at its base.

A bourbon rose, Ferdinand Pichard, is just starting its first flush of blooming.

A single petaled white rose, though not a repeat bloomer, is stunning in simplicity of flower form and graceful, arching branches.

White roses amply sandwiched between glads and red roses.

A rugosa, semi-double rose, which is also not a repeat bloomer, is gorgeous because of colour changes -- the deep orange buds open into coral flowers which than fade to pink.  All the while, yellow warms the centre.

Falstaff, a David Austin climber, is finishing up its first blossoming session.

Crossroad: purple culinary sage, sweet violets, ivy, Falstaff rose, pink and white Dianthus

À la prochaine!