The more that I see it happen, the more I am convinced that
two varieties of the same plant in the same pot doesn’t work. The stronger will
dominate to such an extent that it will probably kill the other.
Three times
have I planted asparagus in the same pot (forgetting the name of the previous
kinds) and each time I have expected spears of the previous variety to
re-appear. But no. Even my new lot of seeds have taken and sprung up, but of
the old varieties there has been not a sign.
This state
of affairs has happened with other plants, like lilies and shrubs. I should
really know better by now and give each variety of plant its own pot to prevent
this under-soil battle taking place.
Our main
success so far this spring has been our autumn-planted broad beans. Actually I
planted four kinds in each container to see which turned out to be the
strongest. It was Aquadulce. Their leaves drooped after each frost but
recovered quickly. They have grown to nearly 6’feet (no blackfly), producing
lovely columns of black-eyed white flowers (they are tied to bamboos).
Bumblebees have done their bit in pollinating the flowers to produce lots of
lovely little beans - so far.
Our fourth
sprouting of mistletoe appeared from the bark of our single, potted apple tree
– four years after I “planted” the seed.
A lemon
tree (well, a small one in a pot and re-potted) sustains two lemons with more
to come. As it is making some vigorous new growth, it must be happy – though it
does look rather out of place in an English town garden.
Not all
saved runner bean seeds have taken. But they were planted in pots of rather
freshly made compost, which may have been a bit too strong for them.
A lovely
fern appeared from the soil of a hydrangea pot, and has taken upon itself to
cover and hide our two fruit tree pots. How did it get there? How did it know
that I wanted that cover?
Making
compost each year naturally increases the volume of soil in a small and mostly
paved garden. So from a nearby demolition site I managed acquire a stretch of
Victorian coping bricks, and with them made a low wall to accommodate a deep
bed of soil for used soil to be invigorated with compost and re-cycled
thereafter.
With a
small section of cast iron Victorian water main, acquired when the cast iron
pipe in our road was replaced by a plastic one, I now have two local 19th
century items in the garden.
I sing the
praises of a rose called Typhoon, which is extremely difficult to find, for
some strange reason.
As it was
much admired by a nearby resident, I put a couple cuttings of it in the ground
two years ago. They took and grew. During the winter they retained their leaves
when all others fell. In the late autumn I will be able to give this local lady
one of the roses. The other I will pot-up and keep for myself.
We will
both be lucky with these roses as the variety is vigorous, disease-free and
flowers (show-bench quality tight red buds becoming orange and rather blowsy as
the summer progresses) the summer long. And it is scented, too. To me it is the
best rose ever, and because I have grown these two examples of it from
cuttings, there will no suckers to cut away.
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