End of Blog

I have decided to stop this blog as basically it has fulfilled its initial purpose which was primarily to get me through a bout of depression from early 2015.  I know others have got some enjoyment out of it too and I am grateful for the kind comments.

I shall leave it up for a while just in case anyone still wants to catch it but this is the last entry.

Will I continue with the garden?  Probably not as it is - but if I decide to remodel it and feel inspired to write about it then I shall put a link here in the future.

Till then, take care all.

Thank You

A certain organisation with which I am familiar designated last week as gratitude week.  Okay, as ever I am a little behind the times in my back garden, but I am eternally grateful for the life I have in this here back garden.  Truly, I have so much to be thankful for.

Thank you unknown Osteospermum and unknown Geranium.  Both were planted by someone who lived here before me.  I have allowed some self-seeding.  I have taken cuttings.  And I have enjoyed them each summer since I came here.

The African Daisies are the flowers that everyone who visits or passes by finds attractive.

Less Osteospermum anonymous and more Osteospermum unanimous if you like.

Thank you known geranium: Geranium nodosum.

You bloom reliably for me in dry shade and are seeding yourself around a bit nicely too.

Thank you Knotted Cranesbill.

Thank you Delphinium.hybridum 'Pacific Giant'.

Delphinium was the first plant I ever grew from seed back in 2004 with free seeds from the WRVS stall in the fair that was marking the 700th Anniversary of Kirkcaldy's Links Market.

Along with Clematis, Aquilegia and Helleborus it also inspired me to have my first look at plant families.

So, thank you Ranunculaceae.

Thank you Kew Garden, London, for the free wildflower seeds which have germinated very strangely with a very distinct line between one section and another.

As far as I know I sowed the seed randomly across this bed so this man-made looking dividing line between one third and the rest is not of my intentional making.

Thank you mystery.

Thank you Jacob's Ladder (Polemonium caerulium).  You seem to have just taken to each garden of which I have been a part - without judgement.

Over the centuries this herb has been used as a treatment for fevers, syphilis, dysentery and toothache.  For me, it sends me into a stream of consciousness connection for the ladder is that seen by technicolor dream coat Joseph's dad Jacob in Genesis as he dreamed while using a stone pillow that found its way to Scone for the Kings Of Scots to be crowned upon until Edward of England pinched it 700 years before some Scottish Nationalists claimed it back one Christmas and now it lies in Edinburgh Castle on top of a volcanic rock that I can see from my front window - or does it?

Thank you wildflower bit at the back of the garden: Red Campion (Silene dioica); Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea) and if I look properly I can also see the yellow flowers of Herb Bennet or Wood Avens (Geum urbanum) - all plants that flourish throughout this here Kingdom in which I was raised and in which I now choose to reside.

Thank you Fife.

Thank you Foreigners too.

Two hardy Fuchsias and three bedding Begonias.

They will give me colour through most of the summer and not ask for much in return - no dead-heading even, just a little water.

Thank you for giving me so much more than you ever take away.

Thank you swings and thank you compost bins and thank you compost and thank you cage for rotting leaves and thank you wheel barrow given to me by an auntie and uncle ten years ago.

You are the non-beating hearts of this garden.

And thank you more British Natives I have managed to raise from seed: Oxeye Daisy (Leucanthemum vulgaris).

Thank you Yellow Rattle.

This is the third time I have tried to grow Rhinanthus minor and this time it has germinated, it has grown and it has flowered among the grass wherein I envisaged a wildflower meadow developing over the years.  This parasite on the grass will help.

This has been the most exciting thing in my garden this year - for me.

Thank you amazement.

Thank you edibles: potatoes and broad beans in containers.

Potato: Solanum Tuberosum 'Aran Pilot' which I am told my grandfather used to grow before I was born - using the spade I still use.

Broad Bean: Vicia faba 'The Sutton' which is a dwarf-form I first grew on my student plot at the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh six years ago.

The plot was dedicated to my late wife and it was she who first showed me how to grow potatoes in bags.

Thank you Sue.

Thank you more edibles.

Herbs from my former work colleagues and clients.  Strawberries from a friend of my father.  Tumbling cherry tomatoes from a chain store.

Glazing courtesy of a school that was replacing its windows a good few years ago - the same school that was responsible for my primary education.

Thank you school?  Hmm, not sure about that one.

Thank you ornamentals.

Although there are day lilies (Hemerocallis) and bergamot (Monarda) and Argentinia vervain (Verbena bonariensis) at the rear this is mainly for hungy plants that nonetheless will provide a feast for the eyes:
Dahlia 'Bishop of Llandaff'; 'Braveheart Except It Isn't'; 'Garden Wonder'; 'Go Go White'; 'Purple Haze'; 'Sunshine'; and 'Twyning's After Eight'.

Alcea rosa ' Good Golly Miss Molly' - the Hollyhocks that will be supported by the stakes.

This is probably not a recommended combination for one small bed.

Thank you for those who don't always follow recommendations.

Thank you ornamentals in pots.

Not a planned combination.  It is just happening and looks almost tasteful to my eye.

Thank you for happy accidents.

But most of all - thank you life in a back garden - for all your cultivated wildness.


Thank You.

Things May Change

There's nothing special about this plant: it is a Rowan or Mountain Ash (Sorbus aucuparia), a common enough tree in this part of the world.

Except it is a special tree for this is the first time it has flowered in the time I have been in this back garden.  I didn't plant it and someone had hacked it back in the past but each year it has done its stuff with its leaves until now when it has bloomed.  Just the one corymb (as the cluster of tiny flowers is called) but beautiful to my mind's eye.

And what is more, according to Scottish tradition, because it is at the entrance to my back garden then no evil will flourish there.

Evil may not flourish but black aphids can: they are coating this Red Campion (Silene dioica), which is also a first for this garden (the coating not the campion).

If you look closely you will also see the sticky white mess that is beginning to coat the leaves below them too.  It seems to be the only plant affected.  Why?  Well unlike the other Red Campions this plant is in a pot and we have had a very dry period.  It is also in a more shaded spot.  This could mean the plant is under greater stress than the others and if I am to believe what I read then stressed plants seem to be more susceptible to pests.

My plan is to water it and see if the aphids disappear - sometimes they do if you just leave them.  We shall see.

Some of the other Campion in a happier spot in the ground and although this is not a close up please believe me when I say this is not affected - yet.

And from another angle.

Following the grass path through my meadow-in-long-term-progress can take you to at least two places.  The choice is yours or mine.

This is one of my edible spots with potatoes in bags and dwarf runner beans in containers - the beans are flowering now,

Maybe the beans will give me some beans and maybe the potatoes will give me some potatoes.

Who knows?  Not me.  All I know is that in a few weeks time they will look very different from how they do now.

The other possible destination from the grass path is the bluebell patch (Hyacinthoides non-scripta maybe).  I can pretend I am in an English woodland if I wish or even Scottish lowland one).

At least I can today.

The edge of that woodland moves to the Himalayas where the recently planted Giant Lillies (Cardiocrinum giganteum) seem to be enjoying their new mulch that I hope will keep the moisture in and the slugs out (with a little help from the copper bands around the cut-off pot rims.

The Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatinus) is now in full canopy and where once there was sun there is now afternoon and evening shade.

For the moment the Plantain Lilies are enjoying that shade - before the slugs get to the,


Today this is my favourite: Hosta 'Sharmon.'

The large slightly glaucous leaves of Hosta sieboldiana.

And the spreading Hosta 'Risky Business.'

And just in case you were wondering about the poppy in the preceding picture here is a closer look at one of the blooms.  I believe this to be the Spanish Poppy Papaver rupifragum but I could be wrong.

I would be very happy if someone could confirm or disprove my identification.

And while this may be dry shade the ornamental onions still seem happy (Allium hollandicum 'Purple Sensation').  The blooms would probably be larger in full sun but they are happy here and are complemented by the little specks of flowers of wild flower Herb Robert (Geranium robertianum) - not my plan.  Sometimes things happen.

But whatever happens, I hope my garden will continue to be a haven for wildlife.  Whoever thought an owl, tree frog and badger could live so harmoniously together one the one Yew (Taxus baccata) tree stump?



Things seem strange?  They will change.  But how they may change is is way beyond me.  If you know the answer be sure and let me know.

Warm and Beautiful

It has been warm and beautiful in Bonnie Scotland this past week - well maybe not always warm but definitely beautiful.  The streets are full of cherries in full blossom in full sun and everyone has been remarking upon it.

In my back garden there is no cherry blossom, but I do have Forget-me-nots, Columbine and Spurge.

In late summer 2014 I sowed two kinds of Forget-me-not (Myosotis).  One germinated well and produced lots of plants which were okay.  The other, Myosotis 'Spring Symphony Blue', had very limited germination but gave some stunning plants and these are their self-seeded offspring.

Behind them the Columbine is coming into flower and behind that is the Spurge.

Columbine - Aquilegia ‘Biedermeier Mixed’.  These are a pastel hybrid sown from seed in Spring 2013 - I love the foliage as much as I love the flower.

A Spurge or Milkweed, in this instance it is Euphorbia griffithii 'Fireglow' which came to me as a tiny plant from local nursery Quercus Plants just over three years ago.  It brightens a potentially dark corner under the Sycamore and two Sorbus.

Now this may not seem beautiful to you but it is to me, for here are some of my plants for the future.  There are 18 more hybrid columbines sown from seed - this time they are Aquilegia 'Mrs Scott Elliott' which tends to be very bright almost primary colours in contrast to the pastels of 'Biedermeier' - in time they may all start procreating with each other and who knows what we shall see seeding itself around the garden in years to come.

Then there are 44 foxgloves (mostly white I hope) and all kinds of other things.  If anyone can name them all I might let you have one of the foxgloves as a prize ...maybe...if I can spare one.

Another plant for the future is these five Giant Himalayan Lilies: Cardiocrinum giganteum.  These have been growing for three years from bulbils taken from the garden of two close friends.  They have been cosseted in pots till now
and I have now taken the plunge and planted them where once there was a sprawling prostrate Hypericum.  Enriched with leaf mould and rotted manure I have given them copper tape collars to protect them from slugs.  The job is not finished as they also need a mulch.  I love the leaves of these as they unfurl each year and it may be another two years before they flower but having seen the majestic seedheads again recently at Glendoick I know this is a plant worth waiting for and a plant worth looking after.

Meanwhile back in the new cold frame the overwintered tender geraniums (Pelargonium) are getting ready for the summer they think is coming.

Will it be a warm and beautiful one?

They live in hope.

Meanwhile it is the blues that are taking much of my attention now.  The first blooms of Jacob's Ladder (Polemonium) are opening.  I am very pleased that this plant is seeding itself around - again I love both the foliage and the flower.

The blue spikes below it belong to the Bugle: Ajuga reptans 'Braunhertz' which to my eye is beautiful against the bronze foliage and the bees seem to think so too.

Of course, at this time of year the other blues that dominate are Bluebells - Hyacinthoides.  These too like my garden.

The other side of the Bluebells reveals the gravel bed.  In flower from left to right are three Saxifrages (Saxifraga): 'White Pixie'; 'Peter Pan' and 'Fairy'.












But man cannot live by flowers alone apparently.  So here are some beautiful edibles:

Broad beans growing in containers.

Strawberries and herbs: an interesting combination.  Of course, if the strawberries are all in pots (from last year's runners) then the strawberry bed must be looking rather bare.

Well - no.  The Hollyhocks (Alcea rosea 'Good Golly Miss Holly') seem to want to be growing there, and some poppies and some day lillies and some bergamot and even a few more broad beans.  That seems to be what happens if a bit of ground becomes spare around here.







It's a while until summer yet, but in the meantime I hope the plants in my back garden keep warm and beautiful.  The life in this back garden is all that I have and I am trying to make the most of it.  Today I celebrate the beauty.  Another day I may lament the loss of yesterday.  It's up to me and it's all part of life in my back garden.  Call it what you wish - it is always warm and beautiful to me.

What Have I Done?

It is a fortunate person indeed, who can go through life without hurting other people, or perhaps I have just lived an inordinately careless life; for I have lost count of the numbers of people I have hurt.  I didn’t set out in life to do this.  I wanted to be good.  I wanted to create.  I wanted to love.  I wanted to have at least tried to have made this world a slightly more caring place than it was when I came into it.

Freshly made wild seed bed or a seedling grave?

Likewise, when it came to my garden it was not my intention to do harm.  I wanted to create.  I wanted to grow.  I wanted to create a space that was more vital than when I first entered it.

On both fronts I have failed miserably.  Such is the nature of life in this back garden.

Lest you think this is an exercise in self-pity let me cite the horticultural evidence: According to my journals in 12 years of gardening I have been responsible for the death of plants from over 93 genera.  That is not counting the individual plants nor is it counting the dozens and dozens of sowings of that didn’t get as far as viable seedlings.  There are those who got as far as seedlings only for me to neglect them, There are plants I failed to water, plants I put in the wrong place, plants I failed to protect, plants I should never have had in the first place.

The story of neglect, abuse and greed is relentlessly catalogued for anyone who cares to read it.

Then there is the destruction for which I have kept no records.

Fuchsia magellanica cuttings potted up on dirty trays

How many slugs and snails have I slaughtered?  They have all been slaughtered with organic means but it has been a mass slaughter nonetheless.  And crushed aphids?  Weevils – adults and grubs?  And no doubt if I ever find a Lily Beetle on one of my fritillaries it will be euthanised as well.

How many abortions without consent have I performed by deadheading countless flowers over the years to prevent them setting seed?

How many infections have I passed on with dirty secateurs, grafting knives and rainwater on seed trays because I couldn’t be bothered to go to the tap in between operations?

And when I step on the ground how many ants have I crushed?  How many worms has my spade decapitated?  How many moths has my lawn mower shredded?

And when the midges have started to bite in the evening how thoughtlessly have I crushed them in their hundreds or thousands over the years under my genocidal thumbs?

The scale of my casual callousness makes me stagger.

Narcissus thalia left to be broken by the wind and the rain.

Various leafless Thymus: dead or alive?

A clearly traumatised Rhododendron: wrong plant wrong place and what have I done about it?

Ever thought of doing some weeding at least?  There should be Lily of the Valley in there somewhere.

Build a new cold frame and say this time I'll do better.

Refreshed the compost and for the Bay (Laurus nobilis) but yellowing leaves tell me it still needs fed.

And while building a cold frame ignore the damage to the plastic greenhouse and the seedlings within.

Healthy display of tulips - not.

Can I justify all this suffering I have inflicted?  No.

All I can say is that if I want to be a gardener then inflicting suffering seems inevitable; and if I want to live my life it would appear that hurting people is inevitable too.  However, some (most?) gardeners take greater care than I, just as some (most?) human beings take greater care than I.  If it really bothers me, then I can try to take greater care too.

The hard bit is when it hits me that I thought I was indeed trying to take greater care and yet I have still left a scarred landscape behind me.

I can ask God to forgive me.  I can try to make amends: make amends to Meconopsis betonicifolia; Convolvulus cneorum; Gaultheria procumbens; Achillea x lewissii ‘King Edward’; Draba azoides; et cetera; et cetera; et cetera.  I could try to grow them better in future or I can make sure I don’t try to grow them ever again.  But their loss can never be reversed.

Trying to make amends to all the miniature conifers I have killed by nurturing this potential giant.

Trying to make amends for all the Dahlias I left to freeze in the ground by growing on those I lifted to over-winter.

Trying to make amends to all those Alpines that rotted in the damp by maintaining a gravel bed.

Trying to make amends to those yellow Rattle seeds I wasted by trimming the grass around these seedlings with scissors.

If I look up to the sky to pray to God then I see yet another problem I have caused: Hawthorn and Sycamore growing into people's telephone lines and so potentially affecting the lives of people across the world I shall never know.

Sometimes it is a hard life in this back garden - for those who have to share it with me.  Sometimes it is good, to remember that.

Forget-me-not

Some people may not like this blog entry as it is not as upbeat as usual.  That's a shame but it's also okay. I am slowly learning that I am who I am and there is really no more to me than that.