introducing allotment cat

The next door plot to mine is quite overgrown, and provides perfect cover for allotment cat to come and stare at me from. As you can see she is completely invisibule:



The allotment's area of order is slowly expanding.



The soil's turned quiet powery in the dry. I need to get a proper composter going in addition to the couch grass disposal unit. I have a friend with a spare and only slightly damaged dalek, hopefully I can commandeer that. I had thoughts of buying a new double-bay for the allotment but couldn't justify the expense. The radishes were nice but a bit mild for my taste - hopefully they'll flavour up as they bulk out. Took them home and chopped them into salad. Crunchy!

I should probably clarify that while Allotment Car is looking very kittenish in the first photo, she's actually a prime of life puss - here she is looking nails at me for disturbing her nap:

now trending at chelsea

I went to Chelsea this year, yes. It was lovely weather. I was there with a friend. We couldn't be bothered to queue more than once, so missed a few things (like the giant bird's nest) but the pleasures were many and marvellous, ranging from the mundane (very nice soap and hand cream in the ladies) to the magical (we sat down for a cup of tea under a yew tree full of tiny fledgling goldcrests and bluetits) to the miraculous (one of the gardens included cast concrete supports shaped like motorway bridge columns). I also ended up shopping, to my surprise; a couple of classy airplants, three insane chrysanthemums, some fuchsias and a couple of irises for out front. Afterwards, on the way back, my phone kept giving me lists of what was in at Chelsea. So, we made up our own list, and behold, the dirty dozen quick fixes from Chelsea:

1. Parallel lines rule

So, this is the hardstanding/lawn from the Savills and David Harper garden, which also included an eyecatching kinetic sculpture (there were lots of those on display, too - but like the lights etc., such showboatery is more gimmick than genuine trend) - but similar sharp repeated heavy paralell lines were all over the place, from the quasi-natural rock formations of the Facebook garden (yes really) to the Bridgewater pergola. The message is clear: get striped or go home.

2. Citrus sorbet and Tutti Frutti colourways are this year's flavour

Acid greens, lemon yellows, and sharp little pings of red and orange against curds of foamy white flowers. Here's your inspiration, and to help you on your way, two words: variegated foliage.

3. First story planting is on the up

Chelsea gardens need to be accessible, so if you're putting in a proper first storey, you're also putting in a lift, and Greenfingers did just that. But even those not literally elevating things with bridges, platforms and treehouses were sending the foliage up the green walls to create green shelves, gutters and roofs. My personal best of show, the Silent Pool Gin Garden (more on that later) had an elevated grey water drainage system snaking around the garden filled with water plants.

4. Fuchsias are fucking brilliant, and do not argue

There were two Fuchsia stands. TWO. One was shaped like a carousel, as if some Gotham villain really into municipal planting had got all flourishy on the show. The other was selling tiny fuchsias with names like fantasy trilogies in threepacks. The one I bought included Fuchsia Grayrigg, which certainly sounds like the flower most likely to be brutally murdered by Cersei Lannister this year.

5. Red metal works however you decide to do it

I've already mentioned the colossal industrial coated red metal pergola of the mighty RHS Bridgewater. But there were also an extensive exploration of the beauty of rust. And directly related to this...

6. Industrialism is working it hard this year

Industrialism decayed, preserved, historical and contemporary was popping up all over this year. Less in the bankers' gardens of course, but anything marked People's Choice or Heritage was right in there creating Mike Nelsonish sculpturals of ravishingly ravished metal or shoving erigeron into the walls of our transport heritage. Powdered steel, undressed concrete and burned wood were the construction materials of choice. Not just touched by the wheels of industry - some wheels actually included.

7. You need a gin hole

As well as going up, the designers were digging down this year. Lots of gardens had activated a medium-small sunken garden, usually artfully decorated with a bottle of something and a couple of glasses (hence gin hole). Part denial bunker, part polyplayspace, all frilly with flowers round the edges, this is the perfect garden for digging in and forgetting the world in a haze of jasmine and gin. Props to Monterossi for including in their many sunken spaces a great one for the kids to amuse themselves in while the grown-ups are getting hammered

8. Indoors is outdoors now

There were people selling aspidistras and bougainvilleas as outdoor plants. The first border spider plant was runner-up for flower of the year. And there were flowering cacti planted in the ground in the Facebook garden. They were covered in bees. "Put these outside for the summer" the man selling me airplants said, like a jolly-faced horseman of the coming environmental apocalypse.

9. A little touch of death sharpens the bouquet

While most people had opted for the usual perfect bloom primping, several people at once had hit on the idea of including some (decorative) dead flowers in the mix, and this was getting the punters excited, especially in combination with sticky, decadent dark flowers like Orchids and Sweet Williams.

10. Keep it nibbleable with beautiful edibles 

The elevated kohlrahbis, purple-lit microgreen shelves and cork furniture of the IKEA garden was only the tip of the iceberg. Lots of the garden were so designed with the idea of breaking bits of them off and eating them that I saw people at it. Mmm, is that Indonesian mint? Variegated lemon balm? Can you eat it? Yes you can.

11. Science fictional flourishes are the perfect finishing touches

From IKEA's mushroom-inspired sculpture, to Manchester's magnificently bold attempt to recreate the earlier scenes of Annihilation, to Facebooks assimilating decking tentacles, little interpolations of the sci-fi future were crawling out all over. There was even a strong hint of far-future dystopianism in M&G's burnt black wooden walls.

12. But most of all, you need a waterwall

I didn't count them, but I reckon about six to ten. They came in different varieties; drip curtains, oozing green walls, stone sheets shining with water, a giant polycarbonate resin replica of a gin logo running with purifying water (incidentally, I'm assuming that the colossal logo is the reason this garden barely featured on the TV coverage as it was definitely the best garden). Everywhere there was a waterwall, people relaxed, breathed deeper, tendrils uncurling, hair relaxing. They are the perfect 21st century gardening accessory for our warming world, and will feature in a future urban greenwave, and my own garden, if I can figure out how.   

embracing the modern

This evening's review took me to the magnificent back quads of St John's college, where the students live in hives and cubestacks of concrete and glass, interspersed with multilevel planting boxes. There are a lot of steps, a lot of walls, a lot of sun. And here, on the way into the Auditorium courtyard, I found the deep shade bed containing three handsome tree ferns in the wall where the modern space meets the old. That transitional retaining wall of smooth-dressed Oxford Gold hints at the possibility of modernity; the three specimen Tree Ferns are the 21st Century dropped into old Oxford. 

a covent garden roof garden

It was a fast walk through central London, but not so fast I didn't see this:



Look at that flash of pink and gold, half way up the wall above French Connection, just up the street from Covent Garden Tube Station.

A closer look:



I count roses, mock-orange and some kind of small-leafed shrub, a woody jasmine would be in theme with the rest of the plants and make a perfect fragrant sweet spot between the two buildings. There's also something spiky on the balcony above, could be a cordyline, or even a pot plant - it's certainly in a sheltered enough spot.

Just down the road from here are Camden's delightful brutalist bins and benches. Defensive street furniture at its best, I'd happily repurpose these are garden furniture and planters:



This weird hornbeam quartet and seating pebbles (I'm heading towards Holborn) are a rather more luxe item, with more than a hint of sci-fi weirdness.



Like downed spaceships, staring across the bleak plains of a London pavement. There's even a little one with legs staring out of a window in the building all this belongs to:



The building's purpose seems weirdly opaque. Maybe they sell property? Maybe it's a charity? This blurry kiosk (I'm almost at Holborn now) is rather more open about its purposes. Bee the change isn't about urban pollinators, although they do like to green things up a bit; it's a charity addressing homelessness.



The green roof looks a bit rough, but it's better than nothing. Certainly better than this:



Though even that is better than nothing.

couch grass rising

This stuff is fierce.





Look at those roots!

ill advised purchases of 2019 part 1

I made a semi-resolution this year not to buy any plants. I've got a lot already, after all, and I can do a lot with seeds, cuttings and the plants that just sort of turn up from friends and family.

Then I saw this our local B&Q.  It's a miniature Azalea (a terrible start -- I've never kept one of these alive for more than a few years), it's been nursery stimulated into desperate overflowering (and yes, remove the flowers blah blah but I am NOT going to do that), it was primped and pricey and all in all, an unWISE* purchase.

This beast is Azalea Knaphill Golden Eagle and it looks like it's a freely available prestige plant this year. So, strike while the iron's hot and the saucy trumpet is there right in front of you, waving its stamens at you. After all, I've wanted one since I saw this beauty in St James Park in London (which isn't Eagle, I don't think - the flowers are slightly paler and more delicate than mine - it could be Arnson Gem maybe), I mean just look at that, August in May.



Fun fact! If bees make honey from rhododendron flowers, the honey is toxic. Not fun toxic, either - no matter what the online searches for mad honey suggest. Just sludge toxic.

* Before you buy a plant, consider: Will it like my garden, Is there a place for it to go, Suitability over time and Enjoyability vs. Faff.

allotment, inspiration and progress

It does look a lot more like it's at least trying to be an allotment now:



Every one of those paving stones came up from under a pile of grass. Whoever had this allotment last liked paving stones. There's some notes on the click-through, if you're curious, but not much has changed since last time.

Except I got sick of being ill all the time and went to the Doctor who sent me to the hospital, not urgently (three week wait) and I got scans and I'm OK considering what might have been and now setting baselines and sorting out iron loading and considering options and feeling a lot better, and  while I was decompressing outside the hospital I drifted over to check out the allotments there:



A cardboard sign was advertising half-plots available immediately, if you're interested, but I always wonder if those come with another half-plot owner who is after using you for pick-up labour.



Look at that curious one-two-three of Globe Artichokes. They're on my wish-list, but I'll need the soil to be well cultivated first. That uncertain row of raspberries is probably prunings from another allotment rooting. I'm doing the same with canes from the yellow raspberry in my garden and they're doing pretty, well, unevenly. Looks at those espaliers, though - and that fleece tunnel. This is fancy.



Those are peonies, though why they're there is anyone's guess. Bulking up to a decent size before going into the garden maybe? Or maybe they've been banished by peony hater. Peonies can be divisive. Not sure about that plastic trolley thing. A sort of giant compost scoop, I think.



Those green waste sacks. They haven't been accepted by the rubbish collectors for years and they're still incredibly useful. I have three. But that allotment at the back, what's going on there? It's mostly grass, and it has a park bench. I hope those beds are going to go full municipal, but they're probably destined for beans.



Oh! A cheap plastic chair. I want one of those for my allotment. Currently I'm perching on the recycling box I'm using for storing my tools. Trying to avoid the huge pile of green waste, though. Aiming for lots of very small heaps instead.



My broad beans are not doing as well as these.



Loving this combo of raised beds and sawdust paths. There's a lot of sawdust in these allotments. I suspect somebody here may be a tree surgeon.

the daffodils by South Park

DAFFODILS!!!!!!





This year's planting at the bottom of South Park. One note, but you only need one note, if it's a good enough note. Daffodils!

urban greenvasion returns for 2019

May Day is the beginning of the gardening year. Everything up until now has been preamble. So what better time to get started on Urban Greenvasion 2019? For anyone who needs reminding, Urban Greenvasion is about getting multi-level, functional, wildlife-friendly greenery into all areas of the urban landscape. Trees to weeds, bees to fleas, foxes to peregrines and back down to slugs again, we need it all and we need it now, cooling our urban heat island, trapping particulates, sucking up floodwater and supporting better urban health for all. Here it takes the form of concept discussions, diagrams and lists of potential issues/benefits.

I thought it might be interesting to do a quick round-up of the ideas so far:

• Insect Elevators Snaking up the side of buildings, these multi-level planter arrangements allow insects easily to move from ground level to roof level in the urban environment, while also providing serviced habitat pockets for minibeasts.
• Green Gutters These add a planting element to rain drainage schemes at ground level, reducing run-off and creating green threads for insect travel.
• Building Waterfalls These open up the traditional downpipe to create a green-fringed vertical water-run down the side of a wall. This provides water access and a vertical planting opportunity, as well as some very interesting design challenges.
• Box verges These flexible planting boxes allow any city street to be lined with deep planted verges which can be left wild or decoratively planted to suit the needs of the neighbourhood.
• Yellow Line Planting Almost thrown away at the end of a blog about a bus-journey, this idea sees deliberate planting of native flowers along roadsides to support pollinators.

Not covered, but mentioned and discussed along the way are the already existing concepts of green roofs and walls, the private sector's main current approach to the problem. The council and municipal green chains, threads and islands (the wording varies, but it basically means linking green/wild areas to create wildlife corridoors) also get a mention. Here and there I talk about trees and bees, although it's not all about the trees and there are plenty of insects other than bees.

Much as I don't like to trail what's coming, ideas up for discussion next include Enid Blyton Gardens, Vergedressers, Open Access Planting, Green Threads, Green Curtains, Gutter Ruffs and Shopperies. Rants about class, exclusiveness, snobbery and does-more-harm-than-goodism may also feature.

Here's to a greener urban world.