Flower power

Last week I completed a new manuscript, which is now with my agent; if he likes it, it’ll be sent to my publisher. A few years ago this situation would have turned me into a bundle of nerves, but I feel sanguine about it. I loved writing it, I’m pleased with the result, so que sera, sera.*

This has liberated me to sort out the garden ready for the season ahead, which to my delight has coincided with a short, temporary burst of bright weather. In case you didn’t know, gardening is one of my great loves; before becoming a food writer I was a garden writer.

I’m glad to say that my days of ‘rolling acres’ have long since passed, and I now have two small, manageable gardens to tend. One is our roof deck – which in honour of The Golden Girls we call ‘the lanai’ – and the other my guerrilla garden in the lane that runs along the side of the house (actually the exit to the Co-op car park), called ‘Blue Jay Way’. The two ‘zones’ include every sort of plant habitat – damp, dry, shade, sun, wind, shelter – and every square inch is put to good use.

The lanai is on a Tiki theme, with large palms, ferns and an ebullient example of the Exeter passionflower – Passiflora x exoniensis; it’s unusual – a glowing magenta - and was hybridised here by Veitch’s nursery in the 1870s. Unfortunately, since the arrival of cats Benjamin and Maxim three years ago, we’ve had to net the deck in, which spoils the view but keeps them safe.

Blue Jay Way has been featured in various magazines and newspapers over the years, and been open for the National Gardens Scheme. Highlights include our Beatles-themed dustbins; a box topiary of Mickey Mouse; and a blue-and-white colour theme, to which I strictly adhere (if a flower comes out mauve or pink or God forbid purple, it is immediately removed.) Any day now, my Himalayan Blue Poppies will be coming into bloom – a local highlight.

I have a small propagating area on the roof, known as the berm, where I grow plants on and tend a couple of rare roses. A few years ago, I managed to track down the last surviving plant of rose ‘Mrs Miniver’, in what used to be East Germany; we managed to propagate it at the time but I fear mine might be the only survivor, so we’ll try again in late summer. Also ‘Judy Garland’, a floriferous red-and-yellow rose of consummate style and beauty, like its namesake.

The collage at the top of the page shows pictures of the lanai in various seasons (including ‘Mrs Miniver); and the collage below, Blue Jay Way.

*The sub-editor in me worries about this song title (as made famous by Doris Day) - because it’s not correct Italian or Spanish; but it’s how it was published.