Day 70: snowdrop hangover

It occurred to me today, as I snuck up on a clump that looked particularly ripe for dividing, that there’s no plant that, once flowered, looks quite so morning-after-the-night-before as the snowdrop…

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Day 69: the tale of the bent spade

It’s been some years since I broke a spade – or a fork for that matter. Time was when I’d use the things in the most inappropriate fashion…

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Day 68: paeony promises

The paeonies have moved into stage two of their above-ground existence; fat, sharply pointed buds transformed in the space of a few days into bloody hands clasped in prayer…

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Day 67: feed me, Seymour

Unlike the plants in our flower beds, those things we grow in containers are entirely reliant upon us for their nutritional requirements…

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Day 66: jumping the gun

I’d imagined my tulips would emerge with grace and synchronicity, a kind of slow-motion dance of reaching and unfurling, something beautiful to behold each day as winter steadily hands over to spring…

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Day 65: lazy lasagne

As close to a bulb lasagne as I’ll probably ever get – I think my brain can cope with disinterring the earthly remains of scilla and sorting them out…

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Day 64: not so cheesy

When is a swiss cheese plant not a swiss cheese plant? When it’s a Raphidophora tetrasperma. Sold under a bewildering number of names…

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Day 63: car park plants

Photinia x fraseri ‘Red Robin’, just readying itself for its first trick of the year, is not a plant to everyone’s taste. For one thing, it’s exceedingly popular…

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Day 62: artichokes

The cutting down of the artichokes is a milestone event here. As tall as their near relative, the cardoon, this particularly variety throws up stems over six foot tall…

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Day 61: spurge alien

There’s a week or so before the spurge flowers, when it hunches over against the bitter March winds that billow through the garden, long leaves overlapped like armour plates, protectively shielding the flowering bracts…

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Day 60: winter work

Now that we can officially declare that winter is over – I'm not quite sure that I would, though, notwithstanding the backing of meteorologists everywhere…

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