A dark dahlia late summer wedding

Photo courtesy of MartinCartwright

A dark, almost mahogany Rip City dahlia drew excited squeaks of delight from a passer by at Stirchley Community Market, one sunny summer evening.  Chatting with the emitter of said squeaks, it transpired she was Kate, and bride-to-be of my market neighbour Andrew – a.k.a.  purveyor of fine culinary delights,  ‘Urban Herbs’. 

Kate had previously fallen so deeply, darkly in love with these velvety dahlias, that she had already chosen the dusty antique colour of her bridesmaid dresses specifically to tone with them – hence her squeaks on spotting my Rip Cities.

Talking serious flowers a few weeks later at the Tuckshop, she described the wild and natural bunches she had in mind to decorate her informal country wedding at the beautiful Wethele Manor, near Leamington Spa, in Warwickshire – a perfect fit for the homegrown, ‘just picked’ style of my flowers.  I love it when ‘wild’ is part of a bride’s vocabulary  because then I know I have found my perfect customer.  And Kate was indeed a pleasure to work with as, apart from her obsession with dark dahlias, she was exceedingly laid back and open to the many ideas we swapped via our shared Pinterest board. 

Pinterest is surely a tool designed for florists!  It’s a perfect way to create a scrapbook of ideas, to get feedback from the bride-to-be and is a bit like climbing into someone else’s imagination: a brilliant tool to find out what feel, which style and colours float the bridal boat.

With dahlias and budget decided upon,  we opted to double up the bridesmaid posies as reception table flowers and designed them to be the perfect size to pop into trimmed jam jars just before the meal. 

Photos courtesy of Martin Cartwright

We also chose to keep the table flowers simple – floating dahlia heads in bright, almost Indian colours, with candles in glass bowls.

Photos courtesy of MartinCartwright

As a tribute to Andrew’s day job, I wanted to work herbs into the flowers, so we had the vibrant blue of borage in the table bowls, scented lemon balm foliage in the bride and bridesmaid posies, and Kate supplied me with a couple of deliciously scented blackcurrant sage plants from which to pluck the diminutive shocking pink flowers to complement the dark dahlia buttonhole for the groom.

 Photos courtesy of Martin Cartwright

Photo courtesy of Kate and Andrew

Kate had been to see me when I was at the height of flower crown frenzy, just before my stall at CocoMad, a local music festival.  She was infected by my enthusiasm and was easily persuaded that a floral tiara was exactly what she needed! Like me on my own wedding day, she wanted something light and small.  But whilst I ended up with a mid-size shrubbery, pruned to size with kitchen scissors before the ceremony, Kate got a simple gypsophila circlet with a narrow satin ribbon tie.  With her unfussy, elegant dress, it completed her look to perfection.

Photo courtesy of Martin Cartwright

When I arrived at the Wethele Manor to dress the tables, I loved the famous couples theme which Kate and Andrew had chosen to identify the tables for their guests. I think Gomez and Morticia would approve of the gothic blackberries and ivy which garlanded the top table for the bridal party, and those dark dahlias, of course!

photo by Tuckshop Flowers

                     

 The day was captured beautifully by friends of the bride and groom and  by photographer, Martin Cartwright  -  I’m delighted to share some of their lovely shots, so thanks go to them, and to Kate and Andy for being a joy to work with throughout the whole proceedings.  May you flourish and prosper together, along with your Urban Herbs!

Photo courtesy of Martin Cartwright

Two weddings and a planting session.

Gearing up for a two wedding weekend and my garden is living up to the challenge.  This early warm spring has brought everything on really early this year - my roses are bursting into bloom which I don't usually expect til June. Perfect for filling teacups with for Wedding Two on Sunday - hooray.

The visiting florist for Wedding One requires English cottage garden flowers in blue, yellow, purple and white.  Each colour box is ticked and I've just realised that my crop of buttercups at the allotment might have a purpose after all!  Those glossy, dainty and luminous flowers will make a perfect filler in country wedding bunches.

Had a good session at the plot today, planting out dahlias. It really makes me feel like summer is on the way when I take the plunge and put these South American visitors in their final flowering positions.  Have got half a bed full at the moment  - just twenty five more plants to go!  The success of dahlias at the allotment last year made me realise how much they love having lots of sunshine and space in which to extend themselves.  The plants I put in mixed borders at home were nowhere near as productive, so that is one lesson to chalk up to experience.

Am using the newly emptied end of the border in the back garden for dahlias as well - the soil is rich with compost as the bins have been standing on this area for several years, and it has been completely emptied, so will give the dahlias breathing space.

Have interspersed the home dahlias with American Potomac snapdragons - the seed was probably more expensive than gold dust, but the baby snaps are looking sturdy now that the weather has warmed up and it is surely time to give them their head.  From £15 worth of seed, I've got 24 plants - wasn't quick enough to whip them out of the propagator initially, so lost quite a lot of seedlings to damping off - they just flopped and shrivelled in the warm fug of their enclosure.   Another lesson learned which has stood me in good stead with the seed trays that followed them - at the first sign of germination, the lid came off and everything thrived much better.  Pity I didn't sow cheap seed first mind!

Cosmos have also been planted out into the garden today after a couple of weeks coming in and out of the greenhouse to toughen up their stems.  Hopefully they've developed a bit of woody resilience as a first line of defence against marauding molluscs.

Must try to sow a tray a day for the rest of May to keep the flower borders well stocked later in the season and to avoid the July hiatus which usually overtakes me.

Rain is forecast tomorrow and I welcome it as two of my waterbutts are now empty.  It will also hydrate my flowers beautifully before I chop them for Wedding One on Thursday evening if all goes to plan.  Let's just hope the slugs don't come out for a feast before I can get to them…

The roses return.

First sproutings

I've got spring in my step.

And spring in my propagator - or perhaps it should be classed as late summer, as the payload at this particular point is my nascent crop of dahlias. (Very exciting as its the first time I've overwintered them successfully).  I've been staring at the knobbly tubers for the past week and a half, not quite being able to believe that they've made it through - but hallelujah, small green bumps have appeared, and some have even sprouted leaves.

What's more, this morning I've had a consultation with a bride-to-be who wants to put their blooms to use for her August wedding.  So now I'll be glaring at them daily, willing them to put on a good show and to defeat the attentions of slugs.  That's a very long period of watchfulness ahead of me….

Craspedia is growing in my attic room and snap dragons are hatching on my windowsills and it feels good to be sowing again.  In the greenhouse, muscari are being very well behaved in their teacup homes, sweet pea shoots are poking forth and my pots of dwarf tulips look like they might put in an appearance in time for my first wedding, in April.

Things are getting busier on all fronts:  in the Tuckshop Garden, the other gardens I tend and in terms of flower orders - all of which accounts for my blogging absence over the past couple of weeks. This week saw me providing flowers for a Green Brum meal at Birmingham's Council House - a rather grand venue, but I reckon the Cornish narcissi did themselves proud in their recycled vases and weren't overawed by the event. It was lovely to get a message from the organiser saying how happy she was with the flowers - hope I've managed to increase the fan base for British grown blooms in the process.

So I'll leave you with this taste of spring and get back to pricking out seedlings in the greenhouse between showers.

Abundant autumn

FINALLY got down to the allotment yesterday in a window between gardening for other folk and picking up children from school.  Grass needs attacking and weeds need clearing but yesterday's mission was to pick the remaining apples, dig up the potatoes (or what the slugs have left of them by now) and to get the last dahlias cut before all are laid low by frost.

How many more buckets like these will I see in October?

Recent rains had weighed down the big bonces of my dahlias and quite a few stems were hanging low, bent double by the weight, but they still form great dabs of colour against the fading autumn backdrop of the allotment.

As ever, I did not manage to knock off all of the tasks on my to do list.  Indeed, the apples were so abundant that after filling two huge plastic bucket/trugs, cutting two buckets of dahlias and picking a kilo or so of beans, there was no time to do anything more than ferry my bounty back up the steep hill to the main gates in multiple arm-wrenching trips.  The slugs have had their potato-feasting time exteneded until the weekend it would seem.

I'm still dealing with my harvests today - in the kitchen, apple and mint jelly is straining drippy vinegariness through a jelly bag, an apple and raisin cake lies in half-demolished ruins following its joyous breakfast-time reception by my children, a gooey toffee-esque German apple cake lurks in the fridge and I have apple slices drying in a cool oven.

Despite giving away a shopping bag full of apples to a neighbour and squeezing about 2 litres of juice to put in the freezer, I still don't seem to have made a dent in my bucketloads.  Will store some in the cellar for the coming months, and will doubtless get fat on puddingising the rest - needless to say, my children love this sweet-toothed time of year.

Dahlias of infinite generosity

The weather may be tending towards autumn, but those dahlias just keep on coming. Every time I look at my dahlia bed, I'm gobsmacked by the amount of flowers which have appeared since I last saw it.  Witteman's Best, the crimson dahlia, is still out there in front in terms of quantity and quality of blooms, and being reliably long stemmed - I really have fallen for that one in a big way.  Rip City, the dark, nearly black, beauty has been lovely, but has, in my experience, a tendency to be a bit short in the stem and hasn't had anywhere near as many flowery explosions as its scarlet cousin.

My forays into flower arranging have also led me to a new favourite colour combination which I will aim to replicate more in the garden next year - peaches and ... not cream.... but silver.  Definitely need more silver foliage plants next year.  Lambs Ears are a treat to arrange with and always a hit both in bunches, and in the garden. Variegated pittosporum is also lovely for a pale and delicate foliage, whereas artichoke leaves do big and dramatic very well.

Honesty provides a gorgeous silver counterpoint to dahlia 'Peaches' when you peel off the nasty brown seed casings.

My mission this year is to chop down and remove all viburnums except bodanentse 'Dawn' in an attempt to get rid of viburnum beetle which has decimated all of its hosts except the aforementioned lady.  Maybe they will migrate to her in the absence of any other hosts but it has to be worth a go.  I will miss them as I love their early, neat flowers and their metallic blue berries, but I'm sick of the ragged leaves and the stench of beetle havoc.  So, out they will come this winter, and instead, I plan to plant more variegated or silver foliage shrubs.  I have my eye on variegated cornus plants, as that is such a great shrub for dramatic winter stems and also for foliage for cutting.

I do need, however, a replacement evergreen to screen my compost bins if my sizeable viburnum 'Eve Price' is going to be relieved of her sentry duty in that part of the garden.  Suggestions on a postcard please...

Viburnum Tinus Eve Price, showing early signs of beetle attack. Sorry mate, but you're going....

Is there life after ammi?

The midsummer hiatus is happening again - my early summer lovelies are going over and the later perennials have not yet got into their stride.  The ammi has finally flopped, smothering its neighbours in the border and I am beady-eyeing its drying flower heads, waiting for the moment when I can collect oodles of seed to sow in September for next year's crop.  It is definitely a flower I want lots of 2014 as it such a brilliant filler and looks fantastic with virtually anything.  It's only slight drawback is that when the flowers are very mature, they make the surface of any arrangement look like you've been holding this year's AGM for the Homepride flour graders convention.

Frothy ammi with sweet peas and mallow

The kitchen worktop is starting to host a collection of plastic pots containing cerinthe seeds at various stages of desiccation - so expensive to buy, but every plant that grows will provide you with ample quantities of black nuggety seed for to keep replenishing for several seasons. I'm going to have another go at September sowings for that as well - last year came to nothing, but I don't think I'm going to take 2012 weather as any kind of benchmark for normality.

It has been brilliant to have heat and dryness this year - makes me feel like I've emigrated!

The dahlias are flourishing in the current conditions, and sedums are fleshing up well to provide a glaucous counterpoint for bright flashy red 'Witteman's Best' in summer bunches.

I can tell that summer is in full swing, as the lavender hedge at the front of the house in sprouting into gloriousness, and my candelabra-style light fitting downstairs is sporting several bunches hanging upside down to dry, ready for arranging in lean times later in the year.  The statice that I sowed in late spring is just starting to come into flower, so I must remember to cut and dry some of that for autumnal arrangements too.

My roses are totally crispy and require constant deadheading, so I have to bid them farewell and await their second coming in autumn.  It really makes me feel like the year is whizzing by to know that their first show is already over.

Excuse the dangly wicker pig's legs in the top part of this shot. I know them well, but they even had me bewildered when I first studied this photo!

What is going to replace the ammi in the next wave of flowers?  It has played such a big role in the borders, that I'm going to feel a bit bereft without it.  You'll just have to watch this space to see what comes in to fill its boots - and so will I, as I'm really not sure what can follow in its wake at the moment.

Wordless Wednesday. Goodbye roses, hello dahlias.

Dahlia day. Taking the plunge.

A container grown dahlia from sunnier years. Will they grow well in 2013 if it ever warms up?

Braved the intermittent hail storms  (it's May for heaven's sake) to visit to the allotment this morning.  My mission?  To plant out a selection of dahlias in my rose and cutting flower bed.  This bed was well manured earlier in the year, so they should have plenty to feed on.  I'm currently out of organic mollusc repellents, so am simply hoping they can fend of the evils until I have time to buy more. The last slug treatment I bought was some wool-based pellets but I have to say that for the price, they don't really go far, as they need to be spread in a fairly thick, wide band around the plant that they are protecting.  They also leave you smelling like a sheep. Think I'll stick to wool foraging on walks in future.

At home, I've re-homed some dahlias into the garden borders, yanking out drifts of forget me nots to reveal planting pockets.  I've still got about 12 more plants to find homes for, so am waiting with my trowel poised for the first signs of weakness in any current border inhabitants.  Leggy lavenders watch out, your days are numbered.

I am quite excited about the prospect of mid- and late-summer flowers as I have not previously grown dahlias in any quantity, or, I have to say, with massive success - but the size of some  my 'Rip City' plants still takes my breath away. I had to pot them on into large plastic tubs usually used for storage as I didn't have any plant pots wide enough. Surely even the hungriest of slugs doesn't have sufficient appetite to decimate something that size!

The plants have all been well hardened off for the past couple of weeks, so the current chill in the air should not be too much of a shock to their system.  With them planted out, I can at least now get in and out of the greenhouse without fear of upsetting a crowd of Witteman's Best, Peaches, Purple Gem, Tahoma Star or Rip City.  They were starting to look quite tough and intimidating.

I hope the plants all romp away, but if they get munched and collapse or are otherwise dismal, I can always call on supplies from Dahlia Dave.  Dahlia Dave came to my rescue for a friend's wedding a couple of years ago as he grows them in abundance at both his allotment plot and back garden at home.  Have I got the knack this year or not? I'll let you know as time goes by.

 

Shiny thing spotted in sky.

Sun is out, sky is blue, birds are tweeting... Snow is on its way out - well everywhere except in my garden it seems.  That's the joy of a north-facing plot I suppose.  The white stuff lingers longer.

In the greenhouse, out of the cold wind, it is warm and snug and things are looking happy, if a little crowded.  Ousted most of my September sown seedlings (snap dragons, scabious, sweet williams) to the coldframes this week and dumped any sickly herberts that didn't seem to merit the space they were occupying.  Being very brutal when space is at such a premium.

Checked in my big cardboard box of dahlia tubers to see that those awaiting an acquaintance with soil were still in fine fettle.  Witteman's Best was looking eager to get going, showing little sprouts near the dessicated stalks on the tubers, so they got planted today - I now have a line up of pots in my living room in addition to the one in my bedroom.  Still have 5 Purple Gem and 5 Peaches dahlias to pot up, so hope the days continue to warm up so some of the piano top inhabitants can move towards the greenhouse to make room for another dahlia parade.

On our family day out to Baddesley Clinton, a National Trust property in Warwickshire yesterday, it was grimly comforting to see that the lack of growth on my patch is not just the result of disorganised ineptitude - the kitchen garden there was closed 'due to the recent poor weather' and was yet to be planted up. Neither were the borders were as far on as you'd expect for April, even in the walled garden. However, there were some lovely daffodils and hellebores around, and the primroses tucked into the grassy walks were just "aaaahhhh".

 What I found myself coveting were the lean-to greenhouses - I might know just the spot where one could live in my garden....

Came away from my visit with two very muddy happy children, 4 timed entrance tickets for the house which we'd never got round to using (we'll be back) as we were having too much fun outdoors, two primroses (couldn't resist - want to get lots of these going),  four Fentimans pop bottles (brilliant to cut down to use as sweet pea vases), and a bag full of foraged sheeps wool.  Why the latter? On a recent #britishflowers tweet up we were discussing pest and slug control and apparently sheeps wool is a very effective slug deterrent, so I have spread the top of my larkspur sown raised bed with a layer of it to protect any sprouts miraculously jolted into life by their spell in the cold.

I'm always amazed by the seeds that need this cold treatment.  My auriculas have now all emerged in the warm fug of the propagator following their two week banishment to the subzero nights and cold days in the greenhouse.  Have subjected my reluctant cleome sowings to the same treatment, but haven't had any success there yet. Will give them another couple of weeks to emerge or be chucked.

Steadily sowing sweet peas, still a few more batches to go to hopefully get a well-staggered harvest.  First batch of this year are almost ready to start hardening off now.  Roll on flowering time so I can press those pop bottles into service.

Last year's sweet peas in sawn off bottles - suddenly posh pop seems worth it!

Progress report.

I keep looking at the garden and wondering when things will really turn towards the growing season. The tulips and alliums are slowly emerging, buds are on the spirea and the lungworts bravely having a go at flowering and the ground elder is coming back to say hello.

Here and there, a few patches of self-sown seeds (weeds?) are germinating, so even though it feels subzero, I guess things must be warming up slightly.  Not so much that my hesitant hellebores have dared to open the buds which they've been holding for a month, however.

Tomorrow is farmer's market day, but thankfully not for me.  I still catch my breath in mild panic at the thought of filling a stall in April, especially looking at the low temperatures predicted for the next few weeks in long range forecasts. Will anything ever grow????

Keep trying to come up with resourceful ideas, and have made some dogwood wreaths with multi-coloured stems. Like my china finds, I fall in love with them and find myself reluctant to part with these little beauties and covet them for my own. Will have to train myself out of such tendencies pretty sharpish!!

On a bright (very bright) note, this week saw me organise market stall insurance, and take delivery of some packaging materials - small paper carriers in eye-pokey pink and equally vibrant tissue papers.  It is quite sad how excited I got about their arrival. Makes me feel like a kid playing at shop.   I've also ordered business cards and t-shirts so things feel like they are actually going somewhere now.

Spent this morning hiding in the greenhouse potting up my MASSIVE dahlia tubers (let's hope this bodes well for floriferousness - they are about twice the size of the tubers I've previously bought from garden centres). Seed sowing included cerinthe (to replace the lot which the cats knocked flying last week in their sneak greenhouse raid), heartsease violas and more stocks.  The stocks I sowed in the cold greenhouse are looking much more purposeful than the ones sown in heat, indoors, so will stick to a cold regime for those in future.  For the allotment, also potted up some broad bean seeds, but am running out of space so the rest will have to get sown direct into the soil next month with prayers for reasonable, seasonable weather.

I think I will feel much better about everything when the trees come into leaf and things really start to take off. Until that magical 'boing' moment, things feel like they are never going to to turn. Hurry up spring, I've got plants to plant.

Sprouting at last

Very excited this morning to see white furry alien roots creeping out of the compost surface in my trays of dahlias - horrified at first glance as I thought (without my specs and first thing in the morning) that it was a mould.  Fears replaced by grins of delight as I realised what was happening - and increased by spotting the first sprouts of leaf buds on the shrivelly stem of the tubers. Yabadabadoo!

 I want loads of colour this year and hope that these boys are going to produce it in bucketfuls for me.