Take-home Chelsea: Cleve

Remember Chelsea?

I’ve been meaning to do a few blogs about doing Chelsea at home but, like the British summer, I am slow at getting into gear this year…

A few stand-out things have stayed with me since Chelsea, and they won’t go away. I think this is an excellent marker of VERY GOOD STUFF. Hurrah for slowness.

Cleve West’s garden for Brewin Dolphin was my instant favourite. Not JUST because of the frothy, billowing planting (which, if you know me at all, was bound to appeal), but more importantly because all that froth had a foil…

…my eyes could dance over bliss, and then have a rest

The planting was staggeringly beautiful (this IS Cleve after all)

Ferns and alchemilla creeping, with irises, euphorbia, poppies ammi and matthiasella holding their hands, and then the whole thing crowned by cirsium and crambe (which wasn’t even out, but was all the more beautiful for that…I do love the PROMISE of something don’t you?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To get this at home any time soon is tough without access to a Russian oligarch

…those amazing yew monoliths need years and years of growth and clipping…this is gardening for your grandchildren.

But you CAN do it small, and get the same effect.

This is one of those occasions where if you have little or no space, you win. You can fill a space with these, and get that same sense of majesty and softness because your garden is within each container. In the ground it would just look a bit embarrassing because the topiary would feel too small.

 

You need:

Container. Make them beautiful. This is one of those times where you should probably pay more than is strictly comfortable. Mine is from Crocus, for whom I regularly review products. Their own-brand terracotta pots are distinctly lovely, with a soft apricottyness about them. Get your pot first and then choose your plants accordingly.

A piece of topiary. Box or yew, but for Cleve-ness, choose dark, mysterious yew.

Some froth. Fine to go and find some frothy bedding like diascia or verbena at the garden centre, but for less faffing next year I’d go for little ferns, alchemilla mollis, or erigeron.

Method:

I use a half and half mix of multi-purpose and john innes 2, and I usually bung in a handful of fertiliser granules if I have them to hand. I plant slowly and carefully because I enjoy it. I water diligently and always put a big saucer under the pot so that the compost can soak moisture up from the bottom. With terracotta pots like these, I also water the outside of the pot when it’s hot.

A courtyard full of these, or a long path lined with them? Fabulous.

Slow things…

I love slow things.

Here’s something I made almost a year ago, when I was rushing around being very un-slow, filming stuff for telly.

Succulent off-sets, pinched off and squidged into the gritty-compost-filled frog of a brick. (You can get the recipe here).

It was done in haste (and many, many times over, because that’s what you have to do with telly). I don’t have a ‘before’ pic and I can’t find the clip anywhere…but it is ridiculously easy to do. What I didn’t get to mention then (because with telly you can’t ever really say stuff that YOU think is relevant) is that a succulent will take its own, very sweet time to spread.

These little babies are the result of almost a year of benign neglect.

I like that.

 

Sweet Peas…bringing it

I planted some roses and sweet peas a while back.

Here they are now (although the sweet peas are taking centre stage right now). I’ve not been very diligent with water, and I haven’t fed them at all but I DID sow them in Autumn (well, November actually) which has given them a rather lovely head-start. Also, it might be a comfort to know that I’m totally awful at keeping them tied in…I just let them romp, and yes, I lose some blooms to those self-garotting tendrils but there are more than enough to accommodate my laziness. I get five or six gigantic vases a week from this arch.

Here is the ‘before’ picture

 

 

Now for the fashion show:

Here is Mollie Rilstone. She is demure, in that she seems to stay in bud longer than the others but the buds are a thing of beauty anyway, so nobody cares. Truly gorgeous.

This is Lord Nelson. Cupani-esque but with long, long stems. Thoroughly smitten I am.

Here is Dorothy Eckford. Purest white and I can’t cut the blooms fast enough. I love her, passionately.

…and finally, the heart-stopping Emma. I did not sow enough of her, and I hate myself. The most glorious pink, like the very insides of those tiny pearly shells you find on the beach and treasure forever.

All these seeds came from Easton Walled Gardens.

I don’t know why I didn’t post about sowing them. I’ll do it this autumn…promise.

George and his swamp

I’ve been meaning to do a quick update on the swamp I made for George back in January.

 

 

Suffice to say, George is comfortable.

Here it was in January:

 

Also, late to the billion dollar party, I know, but I am finally having a love affair with Instagram (although I do want to add that that THE LENS OF LIFE DOES’T HAVE VASELINE, (or apricotty, 70′s filters) so I shall probably fall out of love at some point.

Lavender dayzzz…

The lavender is a-buzzing.

 

This is one of life’s good things.

I have lavender in pots, but my main lavender event comes in the form of twelve L. angustifolia ‘Hidcote’ plants that edge the ends of my flower beds.

… That fuzzy softness…it needs off-setting with a tidy lawn (or better still, stone or brick).

L. angustifolia is fully hardy, and covered in deep purple, two-lipped flowers (which you can see are not out yet). The is the perfect time to harvest some stems for drying, (although do leave some for the bees – lavender being ultra-rich in nectar). To dry, just gather a handful, and tie the ends of the stems with a rubber band. Hang it in a cool dry place, upside down for a couple of weeks, and then you can make lavender bags, or get creative in the kitchen.

Here’s my lavender sugar (same concept as vanilla sugar) for which I plucked about a tablespoon of lavender buds and added them to a jar of caster sugar. I’ll leave that to infuse for a couple of weeks and then make biscuits or ice-cream, or something.

If you want to grow lavender in a container (and look how delicious it is with terracotta), choose a large pot, because you want to allow your plant to grow into a great big wafty hummock, and make it a beautiful one too, because lavender is no flash-in-the-pan plant, and then just mix up some peat-free multi-purpose with John Innes no 2 and keep it watered (though not fed).

Of course, angustifolia is not the only lavender – there is L. x intermedia (often known as English lavender), which is rather smaller, and with rather more rounded leaves, and then there is L. stoechas (or French lavender) which has those funny bunny-eared bracts, – deeply chic, but do watch out, because it is only borderline hardy, and a hard wet winter will nuke it good and proper.

 

It’s nice to sprinkle dried lavender on the floor, or on a table near a lighted candle for scented winter evenings, although with the extended winter we have just endured, I have been using Charlotte and Co’s exquisite scented candle from their collection of lovely lavender things, which took me straight to summer whenever I used it. I also have their pillow spray, to which I have become rather addicted, because I am convinced it helps me get to sleep faster, and dream about good things.

I rather long to be a person who wafts around in a silken dressing gown….perhaps this is my little piece of that…silken..ness.

But back to reality…I can’t post on lavender without sharing how I prune. This is pretty much the only plant in my garden (bar box) that I am fiercely strict with when it comes to chopping. The problem is that if you don’t do it, then you lose that gorgeous mound-thing and you pretty much have to start again with a new plant.

So…when the flowers are over  and the bees have had their fill, I cut them all off, (down to the top of the leafy bit of the bush).

Then, at the end of September I chop the whole thing down brutally to about one-third it’s original size:

…just like this. You will hate yourself, and it will feel terribly wrong, but it’s not wrong, it’s right. This way your plant will never get leggy or woody. It will always be like a soft, purple pouffe.

x

Furtling in the flowerbed

I’ve been doing flowers (or ‘flaars’ as someone very good at it calls them)

Here are a few pics, and you can get more details here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bunny tails, realised

Just a quick one to show you those bunny tails I planted with Babety way back when.

…Yet another illustration of the fact that plants will pretty much grow, no matter what you do, or DON’T do to them.

..by which I mean:

that the seeds were less scattered than plonked

that the watering was slapdash, and sporadic

that the whole thing dried out to a crisp during the heatwave

that the plastic tub was dropped, and up-ended, and the contents splattered all over the floor, and had to be shoved back into place…MORE THAN ONCE.

 

…and, no doubt, more felonies that I am conveniently forgetting to mention…you get my drift.

I have never met a plant with such exquisite feel-appeal. I wish I had sowed squillions….for my garden.

Living pinkly, with Kaffe Fassett…

When I was about eleven I was given a Kaffe Fassett knitting kit for a stripey batwing sweater. I hadn’t taken to knitting much before this, but the promise of that stipey confection made me stitch and stitch until it was finished.

Scroll down to a lifelong love affair with everything Kaffe Fassett. His textiles for quilting are heart-stopping…the way he uses colour is always gorgeous, crazy and seemingly SLAPDASH (even though it probably isn’t)…I like this…a LOT.

…Also, I think he’s about the handsomest man in the whole wide world apart from Jeff Bridges. Kind, laughing eyes…always does it for me….

…so my heart pounded like a crazed fan when I spied him in a gloriously kitted-out hut at RHS Chelsea. I was crazed enough to accost a passing photographer and make her snap us…

The hut was painted a delicious pink…a kind of unidentifiable pink. He told me it was his version of ‘dried blood’. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen dried blood so pretty, but there we are.

Here he is again….with bunting.

Anyhow, I wished immediately that my own hut was painted that colour, and then I remembered that I still had to paint my daughter’s wendy house. Her favourite colour is pink (it changed from orange to pink a while ago)…I think it is somehow unavoidable this, because I have taken great pains (well, SOME pains) to bring her up to favour green or blue, or yellow…it hasn’t worked. And seeing Kaffe’s hut kind of sanctioned the whole pink thing.

 

 

As you can see, I couldn’t quite get Kaffe’s pink (I had a grand total of two hours to buy the paint and do the deed, so no mixing or agonising allowed)

But I DO love it so…. and it’s echoing my cistus and my roses, and making them sing even more, if that were possible…

The small person is rather taken with it too…

 

Pod love

I adore the London Eye…I went on it when it was born and I think it’s one of London’s better things.

…Plants make it even BETTERER

This was Andy Sturgeon’s one-day pod-fantasy conceived for a project called Cityscapes.

…It is very, very very pretty, especially when the Thames is all a-glitter….

Plant list is simple:

Cydonia oblonga (definitely one for my lust list)

Cenolophium denudatum (was going to be angelica but the cold got the better of that idea)

Deschampsia caespitosa

Hesperis matronalis

 The perfect spot for a picnic…

Enough with the rain already!

Here are some edible flowers … eye food as much as tummy food, and an antidote to this chilly rain…

Lilac is one of my favourite velvety petal foods. Fling it in salads or on top of a cake.

…but there is also sweet cicely

 

…and forgetmenots (of which I have an embarrassment) … and if this is just too cutesy for you, then have a look at my myosotis strawberry pot over here

 

Cakes are a good way of dealing with a rainy day. These ones are from a recipe in this book. If you can cope with the fact that the lady who wrote it looks a bit scary, then it’s really rather good. These cakes are proper delicious…better than victoria sponge ones, in my humble opinion, and really easy to make. I use tiny paper cases instead of big ones, and they produce the loveliest mouthfuls ever. Reduce cooking time a bit if you’re going miniature.