Red Planting and Political Blues

Verbena bonariensis and Cornus alba sibirica, with sedum in the background

I have been taking a good look at my front garden, which, despite needing a bit of a tidy is coming on nicely. It is north facing on very sandy soil so not the easiest spot, and its autumn-to-winter look is basically red and green. The leaves have come off the Cornus sibirica leaving red stems, there are big heads of sedum flowers, a few dark red snapdragons left, Parthenocissus henryana climbing the wall (although the Hydrangea petiolaris seems to have died on me) and lots of lovely ornamental fruit on the little Malus sargentii. The green bit is provided by Choisia ternata, bamboo, a small rosemary, a Sarcococca and a few other odds and sods that flower at other times of the year.

Malus sargentii and sedum, neatly colour coordinated
with my neighbours' car and front door

Trouble is, I think I am being too subtle. There are a few mauve highlights from the sage which is romping away (told you it was well drained) and Verbena bonariensis, which I thought would lift it and they do look quite nice as a contrasting colour. But when I returned from the garden centre today with a couple of red cyclamen, it seemed de trop. I have put in some pink, autumn flowering saffron crocuses although they are not quite up yet, and I am wondering about experimenting with cerise and white cyclamen instead of red. The colour scheme is so very controlled it can probably take it. I might buy a box tomorrow and see. They can always go elsewhere if it looks dreadful.

Meanwhile, I was at the DIY shed yesterday, buying compost, and I was struck by the plethora of faded and weathering garden ornaments. Pale gnomes, rusty flowers, dubious twisty things with glass nuggets, ceramic smiley sheep, that sort of thing. Most disturbing were the cherubs. Cast in low-grade concrete with lots of added coir, the cement was weathering away to leave a kind of green fur. Under-wing hair is not a good look on a cherub.

On the work front I am exploring. Coming soon to a print medium near you. Just just found my feature on my nascent apple juice empire in The Guardian. And I have just come off the breakfast show on BBC Radio Berkshire where I was talking to the lovely Nikki Whiteman. Tell you what, if you want to sound awake at 7.30am, listen to punk while driving. Green Day did the job this morning, which is a good link to the next bit (King For A Day. If you've got to ask, probably best not to know).

I am vexed with the coalition government. The latest estimate to put my kids through decent universities is what is known in the business as 'Titchmarsh Money'. So watch out Titchmarsh, I am after your job. This is not just ambition, it is Marks and Spencer’s ambition.

I mentioned this to my brother and he explained his theory that the Conservatives were probably back for a while. He reckons that one should not underestimate the British fetish for being told that they are very naughty voters and being spanked with austerity measures. Yikes.

On The Road

Galanthus 'Fly Fishing' at Bellefield House . My latest snowdrop crush. Back in the dim and distant mists of time, when dinosaurs roamed the land and pterodactyls were frequent bird table visitors, I spent an enjoyable few years managing rock bands. There were headline gigs, support gigs. Mainstream venues and pubs. In some places the PA was state of the art, in others you thanked your stars for the decent size amp in the back of the van. Some nights the crowd was ecstatic. Others, the bar man, his dog and a couple of regulars would sit there, nodding and comparing the band to musicians that had died before the lead singer was born. Occasionally people listened to the first thirty seconds, got bored and went off to get drunk and find someone to sleep with. So it goes. I have just finished a modestly epic tour of the land, promoting The Plant Lover’s Guide to Snowdrops . And, as I pull myself vertical, brush off the debris and straighten out again, there are som...

The Essential Apocalypse Skillset

Let me tell you a story. Several years ago, I was painting the bathroom of a house in Bristol. The window was open and it was a pleasant sort of day and people were wandering past. Around about four o’clock I heard a couple of sets of feet come down the hill and then stop. “Look, cherries!” said one voice (female, mid to late teens). “No, I don’t think they are. They can’t be.” Said the other, doubtfully (ditto). “Well, they look like cherries. Let’s try them!” “No, they are probably berries. Completely different. Some of them are not red, they are blackish. They are probably poisonous.” “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.” (disappointed) The feet moved on. I looked out of the bathroom window at the large and heavily laden cherry tree leaning over the wall of the garden opposite and wondered what the world was coming to. Red Sky in the Morning, Shepherds Warning ((c) N Slade) I am actually still wondering. When my grandfather was a child, he and his brothers (and a dog) ...

A Different View

Sharp angles and offset rhomboids: Heligan in Winter I woke up this morning convinced that it was late. The light was grey behind the curtains and the room was silent. Reluctantly, I looked at my phone and discovered that it was in fact early. It has been a busy few weeks, but walking up the road, the magnolia buds are suddenly swelling in furry promise, and lilacs pertly tipped with green; Crocus tommasinianus have appeared where there were none. Acer griseum and white-barked birches stand bold, in full knowledge that their spare charms will soon be overwhelmed with spring. Time has passed while I was not looking. So as the season creeps forward - and faster it does, when ignored - I am looking back, with a kind of regret. The thing is, that although gardens are considered 'off peak' in winter, there is often no better time to see them. This is the point where they show their true colours and strengths. As a visitor, you can read their geometry and detail without ...

James A-S16 October 2010 at 03:29
Might I make something clear as I would hate for us to fall out ?.....Green Day are not punk: they are very post punk. Very.
Right.
I love the idea of un-depilated cherubs, thank you for enlivening my morning with that one.
Naomi16 October 2010 at 08:53
Hmph. Ok. Post punk. I was going to argue with you but I was listening to Nimrod, released in 1997. And, with a little research, I have just discovered that I am the same age as Billy-Joe Green Day. Since I know I missed punk in any meaningful sense the first time round, he must have done too.

On reflection, my spouse reckons that they have to be post-punk as if they were any good at being real punk they would be dead.

Still wakes you up a treat, though.

Electric Green

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