Long Mizzle Garden

 Hello m' stormy teacups, Seems like I've been working too hard lately. As my old kindly boss used to say each day at elevenses "Let's get our priorities right and put the kettle on" ...and get out into the garden! (I added that last bit) Long Mizzle is recovering from Storm Aurore. She whipped up the English Channel with a reported tornado and 60 mph winds. At one point, the Trachycarpus Palm was bent right over, the leaves almost touching the ground. A tree surgeon friend of ours tells us these were some of the only trees to survive the hurricane of 1987 (the one Michael Fish famously dismissed), on the estate he manages in Sussex. The lower leaves get incredibly scraggly looking, so I trimmed them off. Soon our ladder will be too short to manage this though.  Spot the new addition to the upper terrace? Give us the netball and move aside kids, watch and learn!   We were lucky -  the only damage really was some battered sunflowers and one toppled Aeonium pot. ...

 Hello m' misty pots,   It has been a peculiar week. One night the cold sea mist silently crept in. By morning, the church tower stood steady, silhouetted. Beyond the unseeing tree line, the outside world ceased to exist. A thick white veil, a sleepwalking bride..the garden was all that was. Then there was the dreaded Track and Trace phone ping 'you need to self-isolate', and the follow up phone call "you do not need to self-isolate", much confusion and a set of negative PCR tests. The mist started to clear. Phew!   Pots are simple. They make sense. They are great to talk to whilst drinking morning coffee and dunking biscuits.    You would not believe the things a pot will tell you at 11pm at night, after a douse of bathwater. Their language is plain filthy! Achillea 'Cerise Queen' and Cornflower 'Black Ball' (Centaurea cyanus)     The shallowest part of the pit (old pond). Only sea thrift seem to thrive here. Above: The dahlia bed During our faux ...

 Hello m' cocks, Well, there's been a proper gale blowing here today at Long Mizzle. Gusts from the sea have been chasing up the tidal river, howling round the creek and whipping my poor plants in the face. Last week we had three Tree Echium spikes (Echium Pininana), now we are down to just one. This is a shame as I have been waiting three years for it to flower! Amusingly I  have been left with the more unusually shaped spire ;) Poor stem! Will the remaining spire survive the weekend? In the safety of the greenhouse, our of-of-date seed experiments have surprising results. The parsnip seeds, known for only having a two year viability, were sown haphazardly by our littlest and amazingly have sprouted.   The Globe Artichoke seeds were seven years old. The little plants are bound for my brother's allotment, but need to get a bit bigger and tougher. The red carnations are for my flower cutting patch. Unlike the stale, imported tosh you can buy in the supermarket - these ones...