My nose tells me that there must be a genetic link between flower colour and flower scent, but it’s not something written about at all in the garden literature. Maybe I’d find something in the literature pertaining to breeding for the florist industry, but I don’t know where to look.
I’m currently re-listening to an audiobook of a very light-weight novel about a late-teen in the mid 1950’s who’s family owns a massive house dating back to Medieval times, with a huge extension by Inigo Jones.
It’s a big moment for me: the moment of the flowering of Tulipa batalinii.
I stumbled upon a quote yesterday by a guy who had apparently never liked jazz until an occasion when he watched a jazz muso playing with his eyes closed, in visible bliss. He concludes “Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It’s as if they are showing you the way”.
Just before Christmas I was telling a friend that I’d spotted and lusted over a stunning plant of Clematis x jackmanii ‘Superba’ in our local nursery, and, though I’d planned to plant one in this garden for a while, I hadn’t bought it, for reasons that I may or may not disclose later in this post (depending on whether I can work out how to make them sound less lame).
It’s diabolically windy out there. I’m wondering if guy-ropes might help to keep the house on location, like Gulliver pinned to the ground by the Lilliputians. Must get me some decent pegs.
We’ve all got ‘em – those books that have changed or framed our lives. In this case I’m sticking to the horticultural, or those that have fed into that part of my life
Most of what I do professionally is biggish to big. I’ll be ordering perennials, for instance, with 150 or this and 200 of that, totaling in the thousands. I love using plants in vast, repeating sweeps, and wouldn’t have it any other way. Even at home, my preference would be to be planting up large spaces with low-diversity planting.
But that form is inherently limiting.
I’m in search of the perfect companion for my colchicums. They’ve been in flower since the last week of Feb and are looking distinctly lonely.