I call it my Divorce Rose, because I obtained this rose as the result of a divorce. Not mine, I hasten to add. The neighbour of a friend. They were divorced; she divested herself of his roses; I went over and with the help of my friend, dug them up. They were, very worryingly, growing under the driveway and when this one was uprooted there was every expectation that it would not survive the transplantation. Luckily it did. And now I have this spectacle each year, in the late springtime. Not only does this rose look heavenly, it smells heavenly. It's a David Austin Rose: Golden Celebration.
Next, the Princesses Victoria Louise. Hurrying off to some function or another. They have a very active social life.
Well, wouldn't you if you looked like this?
The new Otto Graut lavender. Alas and alack but apparently it doesn't last long, this new hybrid specimen of mine.
Boo hoo hoo. Now, that's what I call not playing fair. When one develops a new specimen one owes one's horticultural public a long-lived product.
We'll see. So far it's bonding well with the driftwood and the rock.
Our new Butterfly/Bee/Insect drinking bowl. Guaranteed undrownable! Fill your tray with sand, then add just enough water to make a slight puddle on one side. Refill daily. No one will ever go to an early grave from drinking at this font.
My Multi Blue clematis. Do you say CLEM-a-tis, or do you say clem-AH-tis? Or shall we call the whole thing off?
An iris. A lovely blue iris.
I want to trill "Three Little Maids From School Are We!" when I see these, but they are boy soldiers, so it's not quite the same thing, is it? Even in this metrosexual world of ours.
They are guarding the fig tree from our wild and crazy neighbours. The ones who own the wild and crazy Maximus, chewer of all things green and figgy.
One of the blueberry bushes. They are being amazing AND fecund this year, thanks no doubt to my constant application of BTK.
Last year they were neither; they were denuded and tragic because of the dastardly tent caterpillars. FDPG counts their berries daily, and exclaims daily how wonderful it will be to eat them.
I hope I make it to these bushes before FDPG does...
The Macintosh is also having a particularly fruitful year. When Max discovered the name of this tree, he asked if I'd planted it because we were Macintosh computer users.
Given that this tree was planted before the advent of the Macintosh, I decided to toy with him. I think, I replied, that this apple was the inspiration for the Mac computer. THIS. EXACT. TREE. IN. THIS. YARD.
He still doesn't believe me. Oh callow youth.
Finally, here is what I did with my Can't Throw Them Out Tomatoes. Yes, I, the person who hates having things-in-pots around the yard, now have a number of tomatoes in pots. Only, I hasten to add, because it was either this or throw them in the compost. And I am, I regret, unable to discard a perfectly good plant.
It's almost pathological.
See? I told you. Here are some more. No snickering when they look crowded and sad, now, you hear?
Some people like to rescue kittens - I like to rescue plants.
I'll take your kittens, too, though, come to think of it. I like kittens.
Alright, tour's over. Tea is served in the front lobby. No pushing now.