An aspidistra in the parlor

I've had this aspidistra for quite a few years now, but this is the best it has ever grown. Now, I am wondering if it sprouts flowers. Found this on Wiki: Aspidistra elatior is well-known in cultivation and has a reputation for withstanding neglect, giving rise to its common name of Cast-iron Plant. It is native to the southern islands of Japan. It is tolerant of low light, low humidity, temperature fluctuation and irregular watering. It is best situated in a position away from direct sun to avoid leaf bleaching. Good drainage is also required for optimal growth and to avoid root rot. The species is not seriously troubled by insects, however mites and scale may cause occasional problems. Its leaves and roots may be subject to browsing by hoofed mammals such as deer, as well as rodents and rabbits. Wike also had an image of an Aspidistra flower which I include.

Fade to beauty

This first gardenia reminds me of Richard Roxborough In 'Uncle Vanya'. And of her Cate-ness in 'Streetcar named Desire' - but not in Vanya.

There is a lived in quality to a gardenia past its prime - as though the essence of its life has been absorbed into its walls. It is real. It demands our attention. And our affection. It has a depth, a third dimension. It is worthy of our time.

A youthful gardenia can still trade on its beauty, as though that is all it has to give, just yet. There is a flatness, a singular dimension, that only experience, wrought by time, can remedy.

Green thumb at large

The word is out: I can keep things alive that others can only kill!

I have offered my daughter an hour of gardening per week. It is going splendidly - aided, of course, by all the rain we have received. Next week, I shall set up an herb garden on her kitchen window sill (Basil, Coriander and Italian Parsley). I saved a bundle of self-seeded violets from the planter boxes on her window sill, and interspersed them with succulents which I struck for her. I have a little nursery here in pots, to use when necessary. Other than that, gardening is simply keeping the muck down.


Speaking of which, my son asked me over for some tips on his garden. I assumed he wanted elbow-grease, but no. No, he didn't. I suggested. I pointed. He moved. He pulled. We reorganised things according to the sun's transit and the type of plant. We pulled out old and dying. Trimmed and swept. We even worked out a good spot for a Hills Hoist. He now is charged with obtainng one - legally!

Black thumb proofing

The 'green-thumb' gene is not on my family genome chart apparently. Both my children have an astouding ability to have plants die on them. Generally through lack of water, and any skerrick of interest. Not true. Kirsten has an interest but is time-poor.

So, over the next little while I am giving her 'garden' a lobotomy, much to the relief, I suspect, of my SiL. Whereas, 'til now, she has struggled with penunias and violets and marigolds, we have agreed that I replace them with a variety of succulents. I am establishing these in pots in my courtyard, and when I get back from Melbourne in the middle of November, I will transplate them into the planter boxes hanging off her juliet balcony.

A year down the track

My, doesn't time fly! This time a year ago, I was signing a contract for this apartment and trying to not have it cost me too much to break another lease. Now look at it! Like a rumble in the jungle ...

In the pink

Gardening in a courtyard does not afford vistas of annuals, or deeply fertile raised beds. It relies on ingenuity, nooks, and bric-a-brac. I have a range of plantings, but not multiples of the same variety. This week, I realised how many flowers there are in pink. Next week I will show you the difference a year makes.

Damn blast

I tried, I really did. I had this lined up for what seemed ages before she jumped. But I grabbed at the shutter, instead of depressing gently. I think most of the movement in the image came when I allowed my shutter finger to come up too early.

Drats! However, I just know she will do this again. She is that sort of little black duck.

A pretty pink Protea

This was a gift from the English couple who house-sat for me whilst I traipsed around France. It is a variety of Protea with the botanical name 'serruria florida x rosea' so I can see why the label says 'Pretty n Pink'. I have already increased the size of its pot and will now cut these buds to increase the quality of the foliage. I expect it to be a highlight of my 2011 spring!

My courtyard jungle

Interesting progress in the case of the purple Iris from the previous post. The flowers last about 24 hours and then seem to self-implode - closing in on themselves, a bit like melting glass. This then gives rise to the next flush of blooms, which I expect to see over the weekend.

My courtyard is a bit purple and yellow at the moment, as you can see. The spray of flowers in the final photograph is from one of my olive trees. When I left for Europe, the tiny blooms were opening. Now the trees are awash with the blooms at the end of their cycle. Next is the wait to see how many fruit set for 2010. From memory I had about 40 last year.

Prehistoric

A friend gave me a couple of cuttings of this last Christmas, and it has grown like the dickens ... mmm ... wonder where that expression comes from.


She thinks it to be an Iris. I have googled Tall Bearded Iris and it is not one of those. The TBI is like a double bloom, hose-in-hose and this looks like a totally different kettle of fish.


It is gorgeous though. And like a creature from another world. If I can tomorrow, between the rain, I will get a photograph of the entire plant. I put it up on my outside table so that the 'fronds' can gracefully dangle. It had its first flush of blooms whilst I was away. Yet about a dozen more graced me with their presence overnight.

Ready for La France

All is in readiness for my departure to La France this coming Saturday morning. My house-sitters arrive in the early morning, I introduce them to the cats, show them around, answer their queries, and then I am off.


I have weeded out the weeds and the underperformers. I have trimmed and fertilised. I have tracked the trajectory of the sun and moved the 'orchard' into the warm corner. All is ready ...

When I return, I will go for a few more annuals and maybe - maybe - have a try at a 'grosse lizzie' tomato. I am reading 'Hunters and Gatherers' whilst away. That old lady had a wonderful garden in the film. I hope they describe it in the book.

Tirrah ...