Give me your answer do ...

Daisy, daisy give me your answer do I'm half crazy all for the love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage I can't afford a carriage. But you'll look sweet Upon the seat Of a bicycle built for two.

Springing early

Friday morning - just to show you the rain!

Thursday morning - final

This was only early morning dew. Right now at 11pm it is pouring with rain: heaven only knows the condition of these poor little blossoms come the morrow!

Wednesday morning

Why do I suddenly feel naked! My poor disembodied thumb ... Yes, I guess the flowers are fairly small.

Tuesday morning

They are a riot now! They don't all come out together as you can see, but each individual bud turns into a fully fledged flower within not much more than 24 hours. I guess the day-times temps at the moment are averaging 17C.

Monday morning

Now I admit to getting all confused about which bud was which so ... but I do think the one from yesterday with the closed mouth with smudge is the middle left in this collage. I think the other three are different angles of an adjacent bud.

They have changed a lot just over 24 hours, yes?

24 hours later

This is the more refined of the two orchids I was given for my 60th: the Duchess to yesterday's Courtesan! However, there was one bud from this plant in yesterday's post. I knew it would be just that little bit wider by this morning and it did not disappoint. The large image shows the red lip while still encased. If the light is any good, I will try to capture one image each morning this week as it unfolds.

Winter's delight

Does beauty do cute?

Sellie

Succulents

Somewhere between 15 and 20 of these little fellas sprouted from the mother plant: umbilicalled over the planter edge like a lost platoon. Being an asiduous little green thumb, I unceremoniously transplanted a dozen: whoosh "you can try that finger-hole for size" type of transplant. You know what's coming, don't you. What do I do with a dozen of 'em?


And the one next to (as well as in the centre of) the "the little blighters" is no better. My guess is the mother plant split into 6 of these prehistoric beauties. Mother lode, I guess it is called.

Suburban olive grove

As I mentioned before, when I was in Italy in September 2006, I stayed on a working olive grove outside Assisi. Upon my return, I bought two olive plants about a foot high in small pots. Two and a half years later, those bushes are about 6' tall and I have high hopes for fruit come Spring.

A perfumed garden

The Murraya is immensely popular as a hedging plant. However, regular and inappropriate trimming can stifle the flowering of this highly perfumed plant. Other areas might know it as Hawaiian Mock Orange or orange jessamine or Chinese Box. Its botanical name is Murraya paniculata var. ovatifoliolata.

Italian influence

When I was in Italy in the northern autumn of 2006, I stayed on an olive farm just outside Assisi. Upon my return, I planted two small olive trees in large planters for my rear courtyard. In the interim I have assiduously pruned to create two trees that are fleshed out and about 6 foot tall. I am hoping they will fruit this coming spring. Above, looking through my canopy. Below, early morning Assisi.

Fading into autumn

Ficus clambering prepositionally ...

A moveable feast

I treat my rear courtyard a little like a living room: when I get depressed I change the furntiture!

It gets a lot of sun, so I have an umbrella. It is visually private but aurally not so. When I arrived it was totally overrun with weeds and unformed. I evened out the surface and scrounged around the neighbourhood for bricks that looked good. This is the rear of the terrace which - as you might suspect from the ground level being half-way up the wall - suffers from terrible rising damp. However, after about 130 years, it is still standing.

Rear courtyard

The owner, who lives next door, was working on this terrace as I clambered over to check it out as rentable. It suited my social-conscience, was inexpensive and had dirt. I must have dirt.

To my chagrin, he replaced the ramshackle back fence with a roller-door which is getting more onerous as the months roll on. This is the backdrop for my Sylvie - aged 9 and named for my paternal g'ma - as she listens to the wind creak the hanging baskets (geranium, mint and succulent). Behind her, in the pots, is tangible evidence of my European excursions: a tub of lime, lavender and fig. I will show you the lemon and the olives later. Christine and I have just about agreed to return to Italy in the northern spring of 2010.