August seems to be bringing out the listlessness in me. It is something to do with the weather and the fact that loads of people seem to be on holiday. I know that I should be using this month to be organised and useful in preparation for the Autumn. But I am not.
I should be ordering bulbs and getting ahead with plant lists. Writing things and dealing with a number of other ‘portant things.
But instead I am pootling around , looking out of the window and eating biscuits interspersed with brief bursts of extreme activity. It is much easier when the sun doesn’t shine.
I made a very vague commitment to write about gardens last time we met so I will endeavour to stick roughly to the point. In this garden I am cross with most of my Dahlias. Usually they would be beefy, strapping fellows by now with ripe thighs and deltoids like pig iron. They are not: they are not dying or sick just a bit feeble. I have cast about for some sort of plant food in the shed and am now dosing them with some Phostrogen I found (i). They better perk up or there will be words.
On the wildlife front: the poppies are being eaten by Blue Tits which is very charming, the swallows are flicking through brochures and lining up on electricity wires chatting about migration, Chiff Chaffs are all over the place chuffing and chaffing and young jackdaws are sunbathing on the barn roof. This last is a very odd sight as they stretch out their wings and look as if they have been spatchcocked .
There are ladybirds everywhere: they can be a little bit creepy en masse. As if they are just watching and biding their time. Like the birds in The Birds, but with fewer feathers. Enough wildlife, I think.
I do have a couple of gardens that are looking (if I might be so bold) extremely alluring right now. This one I have written about before (I cannot exactly remember when) and it appeared in Gardens Illustrated when it was younger. The strutting hunk of beefiness that is M.Wilson wrote the piece. It has now grown into itself rather well and gets me quite flushed.
The second one is much younger as I only planted it this year but the idea is to form a giant sized meadow with, I think, about 1500 Calmagrostis and all sorts of other things flitting about amongst the grasses. It is still young but bits of it look very promising. It needs time and for the builders to go away.
What else? Oh, I had my first semi-official RHS duty to perform yesterday. I went and sat in a comfortable meeting room surrounded by portraits of bearded dignitaries (ii) and talked to a very nice chap about the RHS web presence. I think it may need a bit of attention.
So that’s it really. Some gardens, bit of lethargy, odd bursts of enthusiasm, sunshine, tennis. August in a nutshell.
I am listening to the Test Match.
In 2006 I had just got back from holiday.
This time in 2007 I was writing about other Garden Blogs (including my first encounter with his Highness The Garden Monkey).
In 2008 it was raining and I was watching the Olympics and going to Watford.
The photograph is of Sanguisorba CDC282 and some Verbena bonariensis.
(i) Interestingly I was once arrested for being in possession of a jar of Phostrogen. The police thought it was altogether something more exotic and were rather disappointed to discover that I was a gardener and not Pablo Escobar in disguise.
(ii) If you are on Twitter I mentioned this before but one notable sported the enviable handsome name of The Rev H.Honywood D’ombrain. He was the Founder and First Secretary of The Horticultural Club and a fine figure of a fellow. His father was in charge of the Irish Coastguard and young Henry was brought up in Dublin where, apparently, “a bed of Persian Ranunculus made a deep impression on him”. He went on to found the Rose Society, be awarded one of the first VMHs and grew a spectacular beard. So now you know.
Do you think you might be inspired to grow a beard now? I dont think you could carry off the full, 18th-century botanist style, if you dont mind me saying, but a little pointed, slightly evil one would be marvellous, and lend you the gravitas your current position requires.
Lovely gardens. You are clever.
Thank you.
I have considered beards before but always end up remembering Mr Twit (as in the Roald Dahl book) who had bits of sardine caught in his beard and that thought always puts me off.
My brother has a good beard that is a little nautical.
Back in the 1960s, in Surrey, I recall the swallows gathering late August/early September and leaving around the second week in September. Are they early this year, a sign of a cold winter do you think?
Who knows?
I always feel a little melancholy when they start packing. If it combines with another really cold winter then that would be a right bastard.
That second garden needs a good mow – they’ve let the grass get out of hand!
It has gone way beyond mowing now. I have ordered an industrial strength strimmer and some starved goats.
I am curious as to where you’d find an industrial strength strummer (now that the Clash’s Joe is no longer with us) and how he might help with the grass?
The first garden is glorious.
The RHS website could indeed do with a bit of attention though.
A low blow to point out the failings of my automatic spellcheck. I have overridden the error.
The Clash were better at pruning that mowing: hence Clash City Loppers.
I agree the RHS website could well do with a review. More power to your elbow! Why is it so difficult to find the information one wants?
However, they do deserve a big compliment for their Chelsea app, for iPhone/iPad. They poured information into it for 4 weeks. Blogs, pictures, news, videos, It was good entertainment
The Chelsea App was very good.
We need more of that and less wading through molasses. Just to be clear, I am just hazarding an opinion rather that overseeing this process.
That second garden does not need a mow, Arabella, it is quite marvellous and looks remarkably like my Tatton Show Garden planting. I promise I did not copy you James, (though plagiarism is just flattery by another name). Summer flowering grasses are my current rave, notably Stipa capillata and S. pseudoichu. Truly gorgeous.
The RHS website is terrible – unbelievably slow, cumbersome to search and (flippant comments on previous blogs about you personally writing fabulous descriptions aside) really should evolve into a pictorial/descriptive plant encyclopaedia one day.
One of my regrets of this year was not seeing your Tatton garden. Have I congratulated you? Possibly not, sorry.
Consider yourself embraced and cheered.
Arabella is a complete philistine. Comes from all that cashmere and lounging around drinking champagne.
Lovely gardens. Underneath all that hat, there is some talent…! As per previous comments regarding the RHS website, it does need an overhaul and update! Are you now Mr RHS web?
Mercifully I am not Mr RHS web: there are others much better qualified than I doing that sort of thing.
Glad you like the gardens.
Ooooh – Sanguisorba. I love the stuff. Got me extra marks in the first lot of homework in the RHS cert evening class at the turn of the century. Good thing, as I lost marks for my inability to draw anything recognisable.
From my window I can see my S. canadensis grappling with the crocosmias and my Cepholaria, which is even taller than most. Some mornings I stand in its shadow and swear I can hear “fee fi fo fum” echoing through the topmost blooms.
I too have enormous Cephalaria this year and lots of them: they seem to have seeded themselves in any and every available gap.
Sanguisorbas are possibly the finest group of plants ever discovered.
I have shed a manly tear in front of Sanguisorba Arnhem.
Just purchased Sanguisorba “Chocolate Tip” from Hopleys. The sight of it had a somewhat Pavlovian effect on me. Will work out where to put it if it stops raining. In the meantime, will make another pot of tea and continue listening to 666 by Aphrodite’s Child.
I must not skim read – ‘deltoids’ and ‘strapping’ promised a very different content
I am really not at all sure that you are suited to country living if the mere mention of a deltoid gets you all a-flustered.
Get yourself to a fleshpot, immediately.
Lovely, heavenly, gorgeous, lazy, wavy, undulating, seedy, strawy grasses! The more the merrier. Arabella Sock has clearly spent far too much time in dainty Brighton and needs a bit of Rough Grass Therapy. Mowing indeed! The very idea makes my neck hairs stand on end.
Do what you can with RHS IT. It’s hopeless! Or was. Perhaps the new broom, ie, yourself, will help to make things work more better than what it did when I was on Council.
Whenever I admire my Rudbeckia ‘Herbstsonne’ – blooming rudely just now – I think of your grass&rudbeck routine on stage and the post coital ciggy. My plant hasn’t the necessary accompanying grass, yet, so would probably have gone blind, had it not collapsed into a Ribes x gordonianum and begun an unsavoury dalliance.
Rough Grass therapy for Ms Sock. Gosh. Think of how difficult it will be to get the seeds out of the cashmere.
RHS IT is, I hope, on the move. We shall see.
My Molinias are very short this year which is a trifle disappointing. I blame the drought. Mind you I staked some of the Herbstonne rather badly as well so at least they are both a bit stooped.
August is almost always lethargic and quietly miserable for me. I only realised when I went through lots of august blogs from over the years and common themes they were. I get all ‘bollocks to weeding/mowing/planting/feeding not having been done, I cant be bothered to do it now as it’s pretending to be autumn’. And I havent got any biscuits. I like those last two gardens…make me a bit of interesting grassland if you would
And if you grow potatoes or tomatoes, August brings blight, usually just as your best trusses are ripening.
And wasps start stinging in earnest. Best prime the traps with marmalade.
Cheap jam is less wasteful.
Marmalade is a precious resource not to be sacrificed lightly.
Need to free up some space to make room for the sloe gin making season. The Lovely Howard may disagree, but I think 46 jars of home made marmalade is quite enough to see him through to his next marmalade making sessions in January.
Yes Sir. Right away Sir.
September is coming up fast and with it renewed oomph and panic.
August is certainly neither melancholy nor lethargic if you are still dancing a Highland Schottische on a Saturday night – sadly subsequent dancing partners haven’t quite matched your nimble timing and athleticism
I wish I was: after four weeks I probably would have calves of steel and would never treads on your toes!