This beautiful arrangement from London Flower School popped up in my instagram feed.
Thought the flowers are lovely, it was really the concrete containers that caught my eye. Click through to the post and you'll see people asking about them. Supplied by the wholesaler florist who supplies their flowers, apparently. Eye catching and attractive. At least in the pictures. As s a recent run-in with a provider of innovative plant pots from a popular online re-seller has taught me, the online picture is an approximation: the real item may disappoint. I wouldn't mind some shuttered concrete planters, though they look like they may fight with all but the smoothest of ground surfaces.
This is their last post but one; the look of concrete and not its reality: maybe an easier proposition.
This year, it's time for a pot audit. As ever, a bunch of items shuffled off during the winter/spring -10 ° cold snap. Including my pound-shop camellia, sadly. Some pots broke apart in it, too. But honestly the main reason is: I need the patio space. I need space for bubble parties, projections, socially distanced visitors, rehearsals.
Time to get the plants out of the pots and into the ground. Where possible, of course. I have suspicion also that some of them (a Phygelius sucker smuggled home in a coat pocket, a fig in a tough metal trough that is nevertheless looking suspiciously happy) have punched through the bottom of their containers, and the patio too.
The beds are also full, of course, but I'm sure I can squeeze a few more in, if I try.
