Posted on by happyretiredblog · 6 Comments

Dahlia love 

Growing up my parents grew  a few dahlias. In the back garden. Never the front. Me.  I hated them.  Yes they were colourful. Yes they were large. Looked great in a vase. But I still hated them. The reason. Earwigs. I always associated dahlias with creepy crawly earwigs. Out of the layered petals. Out of the Pom Poms. Out of the cactus flowers. Jumping out all wriggly. . Making me scream when they appeared on your arm as you carried them in. Getting told off for virtually dead heading the blooms by violently shaking them before I took them in to rid the petals of those horrible little critters. Nope. Nothing persuaded me. 

 So for years when I started gardening and had my own garden I ignored them. No. Not years. Decades. They somehow fell out of ‘fashion’ too. You didn’t see them in bouquets.  Yes you had the standard inter flora bouquet. Standard flowers. Standard price. Standard quality. No individuality.  Flown not grown. Chosen by looking at a picture replicated in every town and county across the British Isles. 


So what changed my view. I had a number of bouquets & jam jar posies from my friend and flower farmer Georgie Newberry at Common Farm Flowers ( I may have mentioned her once or twice in previous blogs! ) – which included some lovely flowers. Yep. . I was surprised. Amongst other flowers of varying degrees of gorgeousness there were dahlias. Guess what. I liked them. A lot. They weren’t your standard dahlia. To me. They were unusual in colour. In shape.  They looked great in a vase. They lasted well. I didn’t expect to get dahlias. But then one never knows what your going to get from Georgie! What you do know  is that you’ll get something different every time. Different because the flowers are seasonal. Oh. And beautiful.  So encouraged by Georgie and introduced to Karen  at Peter Nyssen I decided to grow some. 

Last years dahlia 


Last year was my first  and I was pleased with the results. I had set aside  a small patch purely for dahlias. Largely for cutting. Encouraged  & educated as well by the excellent  book by Andy Vernon ( dark prince of dahlias/big Mary flower fairy- his description. Not mine) – stop there. I’m not describing myself. Am I?  So I had a bash at growing them.

How did it go. T be honest I could have done better but I had some great cut flowers right up until the Autimn. 

I was rubbish  at staking but that’s nothing new for me.  I could have nipped them out a bit better at the start but I had blooms. And do you know what. I liked them. A lot. I am a dahlia convert.  Am I any better this year! Mmm jury is out. But it’s been a funny old  start.  

The dahlias proved a great addition – it was fab to be able to pick some single blooms to sit around the house. Especially to use the single stem glass things ( good technical term ) I had bought at a fab Vintage Glass  shop run by my friend Mr Glass in Londons Camden Passage. A small collection! – I have hidden the others for fear of Ian finding them. 


Last year I loved the darkness of Black Jack Rip City. Chat Noir. The different shapes. Textures. If only dahlias had a scent! 

Autimn came. Should I dig them up? Should I leave them in. Being lazy I left them in.  This year the garden was going to be a big hit and miss. We were due to do an extension. Plants would need to be moved. Given away. Discarded. Replaced. Beds were to be moved. Reborn.   – none of that has happened. Maybe next spring. 

Our ground is also pretty wet during the winter. We are in the South West after all – but most survived the winter and later than I’d hoped have just started to flower.  First to arrive was a Bishop. A Leicester. There’s a Llandaff in bud – has to be done as I lived in Llandaff in a past life though I’m not a huge Llandaff lover. The dahlia. Not the place. The place has a fab cathedral.my grand parents are buried there and a fab cross designed by Epstein. Like many things I think dahlia Bishop of Llandaff  over rated. 

But  The bishops arrived  first to  welcome in the rest of the team when they decided to arrive.  But most I think have come through. My nightly slug watch has been worth it. Though the little b….rs  still appear. This is the year of the slug for me – certainly in Somerset. In London it’s been snails. 

One of the first arrivals Bishop of Leicester


I have decided I have too many reds so I am thinking already of next year. I have seen some lovely yellows and whites and some orange Pom Poms. Not my favourite shape as I like them a bit of a spiky cactus or a bishop.  Plus there’s more little places for earwigs. Like a bug box. But I need to get over it. I need to be brave. 


Morning Dew on the dahlias this year 

This week I was up early and was surprised at the dew on the ground. Armed with a cup of tea and my phone I wandered around  the garden taking some early morning pics. Best ones were of the dark dahlias. Lovely shapes. Lovely form. Been a long time since I’ve been described like that ! 

So my hunt for new colours has started even before this years bed is in full bloom. I am still pondering tulips. But for dahlias  I have a list already – Cafe au Lait. White star. yellow star. Veronnes Taylor Swift. Summer flame. A couple of the Karmas. Little snowdrop. But I need to be early if I want to get what I want!  And realistic unless I increase the patch. Like my bald patch. Ever increasing. Year on year. 

Any suggestions on personal favourites gratefully received! 

 A lone yellow 


Big fat flouncy yellow dahlias seen in a florist in Paris last year. 

Posted on by happyretiredblog · 1 Comment

So where is Summer – I wanted ’76. Without the flares

I have bleated on in previous blogs about the fact I am now retired. Early retired let me remind you. So I was looking forward to my first summer of retirement with hopes of a summer of ’76.  Hot. Sunny. So I could chill out in the garden. Garden. Have afternoon teas. Drive  to the coast for lunch at a favourite cafe. Sit and read a book  by the river. – stream really but river sounds more romantic. Which I’m not. 

Summer of ’76

 What have I had so far? Well the word chill sums it up. Chilly days. Chilly nights.  So chilly fat Harry the cat has taken to sleeping in the chimenea. Like me he’d prefer some sun. Sadly I’m unable to join him.

We have had Quick glimpses of sun and a dry day here or there to at least cut the grass.The garden is green but needs more colour. What colour there is looks great. But like everything. I want more. And I want it now. Like a plant. I want the perfect shape. ( so do I ) Repeat flowering. Disease resistant. Low maintainence . Exquisite scent. Everything. Now. Unrealistic. Probably. 

The roses this year are stunning. Those that haven’t gone mildew or rotted on the bush that is. The few days of a little sun this week has meant there have been some great blooms. We were moving a main bed to accommodate a new extension. Which hasn’t happened  so  – I hadn’t pruned them. Too late for the extension. To late to prune. So the branches are long. With stunning  floppy blooms heavy with petals heavy with scent. Sadly black fly is an issue too this year. 

The dahlias are way behind where the were last year. Great dahlias from the lovely Karen at Peter Nyssen 

Facebook is a great reminder where we are now against last year. The year before and earlier. It posts memories whether we want to be reminded. Or not. Last year at this  point the  dahlias  were glorious. As I leave  the garden to head up to London for two days there are  three flower  heads. But loads of buds. The Bishops seem to be strong this year.  I did leave them in the ground though – the tubers. Not your actual bishops so Im lucky they came through at all. 

Don’t even  mention the S word. Two destroyers. Both start and end in S. Also know as little s:::s –  same number of letters. Starting and finishing in S. Particularly when I find a favourite plant devoured over night. So I’m to be seen torch in hand on S watch at night. And morning. 

My alliums were brilliant last year. This year. Short. Stumpy. Bit  like me. Big flowers where they flowered but were few and far between. 

The good bits?  Other than the glorious roses on long straggly stems. 

Runner beans at the top of the canes already. Plenty of flowers. Well one set anyway. The other is barely out of the starting blocks. At least the glut will be staggered. 


The tomatoes cucumbers and courgettes are doing great guns. But it’s early days. Let’s see the crops. Probably all will

Come at once when I take a two week holiday. Like the beans. 

So far plenty of currants. Red and black. Slowly. Ever so slowly ripening. Gooseberries getting plumper –  the red ones won’t last. Not the birds but me. I can’t resist them. Sweet as honey. But Mr Blackbird is hovering too. Next year a fruit cage. 

The Astrantia are blooming lovely again this year and are great as a picked flower. Encouraged by a  Georgie Newberry workshop I have been picking what I can.

Daily posy 

Astrantia 


The clematis are patchy.some have flowers like dinner plates. Others like expresso saucers. Tiny. Little  blooms that open and get blown away with the wind. 

Honeysuckle Arch 

The honeysuckle arch – a Graham Thomas – has had plentiful flowers. But I miss the end of the day scent following the summer heat of the day. It’s been colourful but somehow the scent has been low. I miss the heady smells of the honeysuckle the neighbours Philadelphus Belle Etoule with the lovely dark centre. On my list for the rearranged borders next year. But the roses which have a delicious scent have been fantastic in petal and scent when not ravaged by the rain. 

In London the agapanthus are simply stunning. Big fat white ones bought at Columbia road Market for less than a tenner. Tree ferns with slowly unfurling fronds. Very different to our Somerset garden. London is a courtyard and small front garden. 


The river at the back of the cottage looked lovely early this morning. I disturbed the Heron – unintentionally and saw him/her take flight over a neighbours bridge. Thankfully I had my phone to catch the pic 

Heron in flight 

River Pitt 

Well. It’s only the first week of July. Things will get better. Honest.  I’ve got my fingers crossed. But I’m afraid that if I blink I’ll miss it. I heard a presenter on the radio say we are going to have our hottest warmest weekend. For a month. For a month!! It’s July for Petes sake. Wimbledon is in its second week. It’s strawberries and cream and sun and burnt foreheads. Cliff singing in the stands.  Best weekend for a month. Oh. And it might rain Saturday night. 

Did I say I’m retired. Well. It also means I have time to use what little produce I have in the garden. Or Produce that gets left on my doorstep. Rhubarb that obviously someone had either been given and didn’t want or they had had enough crumble and tart to last the season. So I’ve been making cordials. Elderflower. Elderflower & rose. Blackcurrant and lemon grass. Rhubarb. I’ve left some strawberry seeping I’m the fridge. Apparently it takes 4 days. So. There will be cordial with water. In prosecco. In gin . There are gooseberries and more black currants to come.  Some black elderflower in the freezer for when I run out. 

Strawberry cordial in the making 


Bottled and ready to go 

So. Fingers crossed the sun will come out. Tommorow. Bet your bottom dollar…… Which is worth less now than when summer started. That’s a whole other story……….


Summer of ’16 -(Italy!)