Drumstick Primulas

A couple of years ago, during a tea-break on my RHS course, I wandered out of the slightly gloomy classroom at Ordsall Hall (the Tudors didn’t go in for large windows) into the bright sunshine of Salford.  I bumped in to the assistant head gardener, who was working out there at the time, and mentioned to him that I seriously coveted his drumstick primulas.  Oo-er - steady on…

He struck a deal with me.  Once they’d finished flowering, I could come and help him lift and divide the more overgrown clumps. I could then take some of the divisions that we didn’t have space for at Ordsall Hall, and replant them in my own garden.  This sounded like a good plan to me, and a few weeks later, I was delighted to come away with a number of plants for my own garden. 

Drumstick primulas (Primula denticulata) are native to moist regions of the Himalayas. They are tolerant of partial shade and are marvellously low maintenance.  Just my type of plant for my type of garden.  However, despite this, when spring 2019 came along, hardly any of them flowered.  Out of those that did, they only put on maybe one or two pedicels; this is the name given to the small individual flowers on little stalks that together make up the drumstick-shaped umbel, or flower head. 

I’ve been pondering about why this might have been, and I think perhaps the excessively dry summer of 2018 meant that the plants just didn’t get established.  There wasn’t sufficient water to enable them to put on enough growth and store enough food within their perennating root systems to be able to flower in 2019. 

Every cloud has a silver lining though, and although the wet weather of 2019 was pretty depressing at the time, it seems to have given my drumstick primulas the boost they needed to put on some good
flower heads: 

My Primula denticulata: definitely an improvement on last year!

Once the blooms are over, I will dead-head them, but I won’t divide the clumps for another couple of years, because they still aren’t that big.  And even in Manchester, it hasn’t actually rained for a couple of weeks,
so I have been giving them (and the rest of the garden) a thorough water once a week, in the hope that this will give them the boost they need to look good in 2021 as well.

Things to do in the garden in April

April is a great month; the days are longer, the dawn chorus is pumping up the volume, and most things in the garden have started to wake up. I’m almost certain that I can see things sprouting, unfurling and greening up, right before my eyes.

Get watering!

Worryingly, it hasn’t really rained (even in Manchester) for a few weeks now, and there has been quite a strong, drying breeze. The few raindrops that have actually fallen haven’t made any discernible difference to the water level in my three water butts. Having said that, I recall that last Easter was also exceptionally warm and dry, and it then proceeded to rain for the rest of the year.

With the present dry weather in mind, one task high up on my to-do list is watering. Remember; it is better to have a good, thorough less frequent watering session, than subscribing to a ‘little and often’ approach. A substantial wetting of beds and borders once or twice a week results in more water percolating deeper into the soil, thereby encouraging the plant roots to grow downwards in search of moisture.

A quick surface-sprinkling of water tends to lead to roots systems developing nearer the soil surface, making the plants more susceptible to drought.

Feeding and dead-heading

Once you are satisfied that your plants are suitably hydrated, now is a good time to water your spring bulbs with dilute tomato feed - once a week, whilst the foliage is still green. Feeding (specifically, with a high-potassium feed) helps the bulbs to bulk up so they will be able to produce good flowers next spring. Dead-head all spent flowers, to prevent the plants expending energy on making seeds, but leave the foliage until it starts to turn yellow.

Dead-head spent spring flowers, but continue feeding whilst foliage is still green

Weeding and mulching

In previous years, I have found that a thorough weeding session at this time of year pays dividends with respect to keeping the weeds at bay for the rest of the growing season. This year, the sycamore seedlings are the bane of my life. I don’t even know where the nearest sycamore tree is. It just proves how effective they are at dispersing. This morning I weeded hundreds of sycamore seedlings out of the full length of my border, and I’m absolutely certain that more had germinated just a few hours later.

Once you have weeded and watered, you could apply a compost mulch to borders, if you are able to get a bulk bag of compost delivered. This improves soil structure and water-retention as well as helping to keep the weeds down.

Seed-sowing

If you want to avoid standing in the supermarket queue to procure fresh veg, herbs and salad, now is the time to get sowing. Lettuce, salad leaves and rocket all germinate within a week and can be ready to harvest in three. To ensure a constant supply of salad throughout the summer, make successional sowings every two to three weeks. I’ve sown mine directly into containers outside, but was a bit late with chicken wire protection, so annoyingly, the squirrels have already had a good scrabble in them.

I don’t have a green house and we also lack window sills of any depth. However, our spare room has a south-facing bay window, so I have started off some tomato seeds, and have sown some courgette seeds and put the trays on the heated propagator. I’ve also sown some red and yellow sunflower seeds (‘Red Sun’ and ‘Giant’), because I thought they’d look cheerful at the back of the border.

My alternative greenhouse

Today I sowed my first batch of peas, dwarf French beans, spinach and carrots, directly into containers on my decking (not forgetting the chicken wire this time…). I’m then hoping to sow another batch in a few weeks time, into a new raised bed. However, at present, the intended location for this new bed is currently occupied by the site-works compound for my husband’s garden railway, which is undergoing some permanent-way maintenance.

Some useful seed-sowing tips;

• for small seeds that are going to be transplanted later, use fresh, fine / sieved compost;

• heap the compost into the seed tray and remove the excess with the edge of the ruler or similar, so the compost is level across the top of the seed tray;

• lift and tap the seed tray on the work bench a few times, to make sure large air pockets settle out. Pick off and discard any large bits that come to the surface. Don’t press or compact the compost, or the new shoot may struggle to push through;

• water the seed trays with fresh tap water before sowing the seeds. Start watering the ground next to the seed tray before passing the watering can over the seed tray, so the compost isn’t displaced by the strong initial jet of water;

• sow seeds at the depth and spacing specified on the packet. Courgettes and other flat cucurbit seeds should be sown on their sides. The theory is that this ensures moisture won’t accumulate on the flat face of the seed and cause it to go mouldy. I’m not sure if anyone has done any controlled experimentation on this.

Quite a number of people have been frustrated by a lack of seeds to sow, and the difficulties in procuring them, including me. Theoretically, you should pay attention to the sow-by dates on the seed packets, as old seed is less likely to germinate.  My peas and beans are a year out of date, but given current circumstances, I’m just going to take my chance.

I have ordered some parsley and coriander online, but everyone has had the same idea, plus, Royal Mail is pretty stretched at the moment so they are taking their time to arrive. Packets of seeds usually come with hundreds more than you actually need, so why not ask neighbours on your local Facebook groups if they have any spares, and arrange a suitably contact-free trade?

Aldi has plants!

And on Fridays, they even seem to be alive!

OK, so they didn’t have any pasta, and the plants I bought aren’t edible, but I thought they looked in good health and had 20% off, so I got four; one clematis and three perennial sweet peas.

For the last six months or so, my normal Thursday routine has started with an 8am supermarket-dash around Aldi for the family groceries. I then reward my efforts by hastily scoffing a coffee and croissant before driving around the M60 for my volunteering slot at RHS Bridgewater. Sadly, work at RHS Bridgewater has been stood down for now; no volunteering, the majority of staff in furlough, and garden-opening postponed for another year. I’m just hoping it rains soon, or all those new plants that the team worked so hard to put in to date will die.

My Thursday 8am trip to Aldi has still continued in the last three weeks - we don’t consider ourselves vulnerable so no hogging internet delivery slots. Yesterday I rocked up at the retail park, took my position in the queue to get inside and whipped out my Kindle to read whilst waiting. After about thirty minutes, I reached the front of the queue. As I was putting my Kindle back in my shoulder bag, my heart dropped like a stone. My purse wasn’t in my bag. No money. No shop. Mission aborted. I returned home.

Take two. Today I checked the contents of my shoulder bag rather more carefully before setting out and successfully made it into and around the store (and through the checkout) - delighted to see tinned tomatoes and basmati rice were back in stock. Given the dearth of pasta, it will just have to be a curry week, but none of my family will be complaining. Before today, I hadn’t given Aldi plants a second glance, because they’re usually extremely wilted or dead; the staff don’t have the time or brief to water them, so the key is to procure them as soon as possible after their arrival in store. Plainly Friday is the day for buying Aldi plants!

Perennial, everlasting or broad-leaved sweet peas (Lathyrus latifolius) aren’t perfumed like the annual variety (Lathyrus odoratus - clue’s in the name…), but they are still pretty, great for pollinators and I have just read that they can tolerate dry soil, so I am going to try and grow them in the containers at the base of the trellis around our decking; I am often rather negligent about watering those containers.

You can also plant them to scramble up banks or over less ornamental shrubs. The foliage tends to turn brown or yellow towards the end of the summer, at which time you can cut them down to ground level, and look out for them to show themselves again in early spring.

Lathyrus latifolius - perennial sweet pea

No need to 'do'. Just 'be'.

These are anxious and frustrating times. I know this, because my inbox is chocker with messages from retailers, utility companies, media, horticulture and sports organisations, and every other mailing list I’m subscribed to telling me so. Perhaps you don’t need yet another blog post dwelling on the subject, but I do think there are a couple of points that are worth making here.

As an anxious person, my strategies to combat anxiety in recent years have been to keep gardening, keep running and in general, keep busy. My Facebook feed is full of suggestions of home-based fitness, baking, making, sewing and gardening ideas. To add insult to injury (or rather, injury to insult) in week one of the ‘lockdown’ situation, I fell over my own gardening boots and sprained my ankle, so my options for keeping fit and busy immediately diminished.

Why do I always feel I need to have something to show for my time? Why is there so much pressure to be constantly productive? It’s taken a global lockdown and an injured ankle for me to start training myself out of this mindset. I’ve hobbled down the garden with a deck chair, and just sat looking, smelling and listening to it, possibly for the first time in my life. There wasn’t even a G&T involved.

For a fairly chaotic and incoherent garden, this corner is looking quite handsome at the moment. The flowering currant (Ribes sanguineum) always looks impressive at this time of year, and the Camellia has more flowers on it than it has had for ages, probably due to the amount of rain we had last summer. The Magnolia stellata is looking a lot better for not having been ravaged by the foxes this year, and the Viburnum tinus is just starting to come in to flower.

Magnolia stellata

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve been trying hard to enjoy the attractive parts of my garden whilst not being distracted by the areas that need work. It’s still rewarding to go out there and notice more green, more growth and more blooms each day, as spring gathers pace. I’m grateful to nature for bringing about all those things without my intervention, and it deserves my appreciation and respect in return, even if this is from a deck chair on the lawn.

Things to do in the garden in March

The Blog is back!  Not before time, since today’s the last day of March, and it’s been dormant since November! 

I have finally been stirred into some keyboard-action because a) those lucky enough to have gardens are finding themselves there quite a lot more at the moment, and may be wondering what to do; b) I tripped over my own gardening boots, fell down the cellar stairs and sprained my ankle at the weekend, so can’t get in my own garden at the moment, and; c) I’ve been meaning to pull my finger out and write a few blog-words for at least, erm, three months, so now seems like a good time.

Shrubs and flowers

If you have a dogwood (Cornus sp.), you can now coppice it by cutting it right down to within 5cm of the ground.  This encourages new, good-coloured stems to grow, which will make for good winter interest next year.

If your winter jasmine (Jasminum nudiflorum) has finished flowering, cut flowered stems down to strong young shoots and prune out thin, weak spindly stems.  Remove about a fifth of older, woody stems at ground level.

Winter Jasmine - Jasminum nudiflorum

If you had snowdrops, and the foliage is starting to turn yellow, these can be lifted, divided and replanted.  You can also prune bush and climbing roses, if you haven’t already done so.

Get ready for sowing

If you were efficient enough to sow some green manure, now is the time to cut it.  Leave it to wilt before digging it in to the soil, and give it a few weeks to decay before sowing new crops.  I’ve started waging my war against the bindweed (and other weeds) early this year, and have also decanted old compost from last year’s containers, and spread it over the borders as a mulch. 

I haven’t been organised enough to chit seed potatoes this year, but now is the time to plant early potato varieties and onion sets, if you have them.  I have been studying the backs of the seed packets in my box, to see what’s still in date, and what to plant when.  My veg-growing record is pretty poor to date, but I really need to make more effort with veg, fresh herbs and salad this year, for obvious reasons. There’s still time to order seeds online.

I’m going to try a bit harder to grow my own salad leaves - to avoid that ‘pop to the shop’.

The lawn

I don’t think my lawn stopped growing at all this winter.  I have cut it once already, last week, taking care to mow around the crocus foliage.  I used a high blade setting – so it didn’t look like I’d made much of a difference, but for the first cut of the season, it’s best not to scalp it.

Christmas tree sustainability

Last December, during the end-of-term Christmas Quiz, the RHS level 2 tutor put up the following question;

‘Which is more sustainable; a real Christmas tree or an artificial one?’ 

I was suddenly filled with horror at the thought that some plastic affair, manufactured from strips of khaki green astro-turf and tinsel, twisted around a wire frame might possibly come out on top, just because it can be used and reused, year after year.

What should you think about, when procuring a real Christmas tree?

Sourcing ‘real’ Christmas trees needs careful consideration.  Where is it grown?  How many carbon miles will it clock up, getting to market?  Is it locally grown and does its production and sale provide employment for local people? 

Can you go and select and harvest it yourself, to reduce over-harvesting, and ensure optimal freshness?  Is it potted with a root ball, so it can be replanted outside and then dug up to be used again over the next few years? 

And at the end of its life as a Christmas tree, does it go to landfill (like the plastic ones), the municipal green waste (for compost), or does it get chipped or shredded for other garden uses, such as paths or mulches?

Save money with a tree with roots

From my own experience, real trees potted with a root ball and transplanted into the garden between Christmases, or even cared for still in their pots, can be an extremely cost-effective solution; A few years ago, when we were still living in our old house in Hulme, my boys went out one December Saturday for the ritual Christmas tree buying, returning with a beautiful specimen; just the right height to fit on top of the chest of drawers in our crowded living room, without grazing the ceiling. 

I remember fishing the price tag out of the bin and thinking that £25 was absolutely extortionate for such a small tree.  It was, however, potted with its root-ball, so we used it the following year, and £12.50 per use didn’t seem so bad.  And the next year… now down to £8 per use!  That’s more like it.

After the third Christmas, we decided to transplant it in to a bigger pot, and took it with us to our present house in Whalley Range, where it spent its first year being ignored at the bottom of our new and much larger garden.  I recall using it at least one more time, before neglect combined with the hot dry weather of the summer of 2018 finally did for it.

Artificial trees can be sustainable too…

If you prefer an artificial tree, according to the Carbon Trust, it needs to be used for at least ten years before becoming the most sustainable option.  It needn’t be plastic; there are many beautiful trees available, made from twigs, wicker, driftwood and sculpted wire.  And once you’ve dug out those old friends, the tree ornaments, from a dusty corner of the loft, all types of tree look beautiful and festive, once decorated.

What's in a (botanical) name?

Why do plantspeople like using the botanical plant names so much?  I promise you that they are not being pretentious.  This seemed the most logical explanation to me, as a teenager, whilst on family walks with the (now) Ecologist Big Sister, during the first term of her Masters degree in environmental science.  I thought she was just showing off with her Urtica dioica and Cirsium vulgare.  What’s wrong with just calling them stinging nettles and thistles?

The binomial system we use for naming plants was first applied consistently by the Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus in the mid-18th century.  Usually, a binomial plant name consists of a family name, known as the genus (capitalised), followed by its species (all lower case), and is printed in italics. 

The words used to name plants tend to derive from a mixture of Latin, Greek, native names or places of origin.  Here are five reasons why it is useful to know and apply the full binomial botanical names for plants.

Unique identifier

The botanical name given to a plant species is unique, and therefore the key to its identification.  For example, there are two different plants both known by the common name of bluebell; Hyacinthoides non-scripta (English bluebell) and Campanula rotundifolia (known as bluebell in Scotland and harebell in England).  Using the unique botanical name provides complete clarity on which specific plant we are talking about.

Campanula rotundifolia - locally known as bluebell in Scotland and harebell in England

Hyacinthoides non-scripta - known as bluebell in England

Internationally understood

Botanists across the whole world use the same botanical names for plants, irrespective of their own native tongue.  Common names can vary within countries as well as between countries.  For example, marsh marigolds may also be known to us in the UK as kingcups, Maybobs or any other of the ninety or so common names.  In Germany they have around 140 different common names, and a further sixty in France.  However, botanists attending an international conference will refer to this plant as Caltha palustris and can all be certain over which plant is being discussed. 

Caltha palustris

Stability

Recent advances in genetic analysis and DNA sequencing have resulted in, every now and again, a plant being reallocated to a different genus.  But on the whole, botanical plant names tend to be stable and unchanging over time, unlike common names and even language in general.  So hopefully, the botanical plant names I learned (and am still learning) whilst studying for my RHS exams will still be the same when I am gardening in thirty (and hopefully more) years’ time.

Appearance and characteristics

This is where a little knowledge of Latin or Greek comes in handy.  The botanical plant names can sometimes give us a clue on the appearance of a plant; the shape or texture of the leaves, its habit or general size, colour, or even its nutritional or medicinal properties.  Here are three examples

• Hydrangea quercifolia – Oak-leaved hydrangea, Quercus being the genus for oak species;

• Fraxinus excelsior – Common ash, excelsior meaning ever taller, or upwards;

• Saxifraga bronchialis – Yellowdot Saxifrage, traditionally used to treat bronchitis.

Native habitat

The botanical name can also give you a clue as to its native habitat, and hence the conditions it would prefer to be grown in! 

• canadensis – originally native to Canada e.g. Amelanchier canadensis (serviceberry);

• japonica – originally native to Japan e.g. Chaenomeles japonica (flowering quince);

• damascenus – associated with Damascus, Syria e.g. Nigella damascena (love-in-a-mist);

• sibiricus - associated with Siberia e.g. Iris sibirica

Further reading

A basic grasp on the above five points will earn you an easy five marks in your first RHS Level 2 paper.  If you are interested in finding out more about plant names and enjoy illustrated texts, have a look at the RHS’ ‘Practical Latin for Gardeners’ by James Armitage (2016).

Things to do in the garden in November

This morning, I managed to get out of bed before 8am (big hand please; it is a Saturday), cycle out to Fletcher Moss to do a Parkrun (humour me please - I’m new to this game), cycle home and make pancakes, eat said pancakes, and get the Christmas cake mixed and in the oven. It’s now baking, outside it’s raining, and I am beached on the sofa with no intention of doing anything in the garden, despite the drifts of leaves covering my half-scarified lawn.

Here’s a few tasks that you could consider undertaking, if you weren’t as lazy as me;

Trees, shrubs and flowers

Given the inclement weather this year, pretty much everyone’s roses have been afflicted by fungal black spot. Collect up all the fallen leaves under rose bushes, and put them in the municipal green waste (not on your compost heap), to prevent re-infection.

Check that all tree stakes are in good condition and secure, and plants requiring support are well tied in. Trees that have expanded in girth over the growing season may need their tree-ties loosening.

Tulip bulbs can be planted this month - about three times their own depth.

Fruit and veg

Now is a good time to plant garlic, and to net brassicas such as Brussels sprouts and kale, against peckish pigeons. Prune out fruited canes of berries such as blackberries, tayberries and loganberries by cutting them down to ground level. Check any stored apples for signs of rot; any spoiled fruit can be left out for the birds to feed on.

Autumn wildlife

Make sure piles of leaves and twigs assembled for burning on bonfire night haven’t become homes to any hibernating hedgehogs or frogs and toads; check before lighting! Leave some leaves piled in a quiet corner of the garden to provide winter shelter for these animals.

Clean out any bird boxes so that they can be used as winter roosts; this makes it more likely that birds will use them to nest in, come spring.