Soilman

The last flowers of these lilies – an oriental/trumpet cross – always presage the end of summer for me. The final blooms usually drop off at the end of August; they’re early this year because of the extraordinary weather.

And wow, what a year it’s been. Can’t remember a summer like it since ’76. I’ve moaned continually on this blog about the lack of water, but this is kindergarten stuff compared with the nightmare they’re enduring in Russia. My Muscovite in-laws are choking on smog, smoke and 40ºC. People are dying from it.

If this is the future – ie if this is what global warming looks like – we’re all in for a very bumpy and painful ride. Hold on to your hats.

This year’s peonies have been disgracefully beautiful. Must be something about the harsh winter. Peonies grow very well in Russia, so I assume a hard frost suits them.

This one is growing in my garden, and it’s gorgeous. So gorgeous that I’m toying with the idea of splitting the clump and planting half on the allotment.

Just one problem, as peony fans will know: this flower HATES being transplanted, and can sulk for up to 3 years before it flowers again.

Question: Have I got the patience to wait?

Notice anything unusual about this rose foliage?

To my utter astonishment, there are no aphids on the new growth. And I mean none – I’ve hunted, believe me, and there’s not a single aphid of any hue anywhere on these plants. And it’s May, FFS.

It’s not because I’ve sprayed them; I don’t do that. So how come?

Well, to apply Holmesian logic: If I’ve not sprayed them, and nobody else is spraying them (the midnight Derris Duster?), there can only be one conclusion:

There are no aphids because it’s been SO FUCKING COLD.

OK, time to ‘fess up: I’ve been in Marrakech, Morocco. A very special treat in February for a SAD sufferer, and a huge boost to my flagging morale.

The sun shone every day, and it was glorious. Interesting from a gardener’s point of view, too; this is a shot of Yves St Laurent’s garden, the Jardin Majorelle (which contains a rather dignified and touching memorial to the man).

The yellow and blue theme runs throughout, with cacti and limpid pools making a rather special visual experience. Bizarrely, there seemed to be only French tourists there… which seemed a waste. If you’re ever in Marrakech, don’t miss it.

Not exactly a typical garden scene for the UK in February. Here’s a clue: it’s not the UK (although it IS February).

Here’s another pic to help you figure it out…

Lilies are marvellously predictable. Their seed pods ripen and split a day or two either side of mid October. They’re metronomically reliable.

I’m passionate about lilies. I’ve bred some of the varieties in my garden myself, and it’s a thrill to see them thriving. There is no flower more dignified, beautiful and elegant.

I hate seeing rosebuds in October. They’re as gorgeous as ever, but – to corrupt the song lyrics – their lovely promise won’t come true. One sharp frost and it’s all over.

On another note: when did Jerusalem artichokes become so popular that they’re at risk of theft?

I ask because I dug some up for my mother a week or two ago, and somehow – perhaps when I left the bag unattended at the plot for a few minutes, or after I loaded them in her car – they were swiped.

Which blows my mind. I mean, Jerusalem artichokes?

Christ, it’s not the crown jewels. Whatever next? Are my gold fillings safe? Should I perhaps nail my car tyres to the driveway?

My only consolation is the sure and certain knowledge that if the thief eats that many artichokes at one sitting, he’ll fart his colon out of his arse.

There’s a shitload more carrots where those came from, but the beetroot is all done for 2009. Ditto the dahlias. I picked the last ones this morning, and the frosts are on their way.

So summer’s definitely over, and you won’t hear me moan about weeds and lack of water for a while.

I’m not too sad. Too bloody busy, what with all the wretched digging.

Guess what I’ll be moaning about now?

Outrageous. Never seen anything quite like this dahlia. It was so huge it could barely hold its head up.

Have just been strolling around the chateau gardens at Flamanville in Normandy. Quite astonishing and breathtaking – the biggest field of dahlias I’ve ever see. All gorgeous.

Most of them had labels to tell you the cultivar, but inevitably all the ones I liked best had lost their tag. That said, I’ve got a dahlia shopping list as long as my arm for next Spring.

Talking of Spring… it’s a bloody long way off, isn’t it?

Outrageous dahlia. I’ve had buckets full of them this season. Another thing that seems to appreciate warm, dry conditions.

Total failure to blog for the last week; and to garden. The plot is weed hell, and I’m looking at an autumn of seriously hard work to get it back under control.

Can’t say I’m looking forward to it.