And the award goes to…

The Age of Ranunculus

Mrs B and I spent half term in Scotland, which was warm and wonderful, and we basked in the unseasonal combination of sunshine with (almost) no midges. 

But it was a lot hotter in the Midlife Garden (now rebranded the Garden Gate Flower Plot) and on our return from the Far North, I was amazed at the transformation in the raised beds and cutting patches. Every seedling seemed to have trebled in size and was blooming. The dahlias that I had transplanted the day before we left, now had buds on them. The Cerinthe had grown long and elegant stems and the Ammi Majus, were over eight feet tall and covered in white umbels.

The survival of these flowers is entirely down to our colleague Kate who spent long hours watering to keep everything alive. No surprise her efforts have been rewarded with a nomination for Employee of the Month. The award is, as yet, an unofficial one, as we are a fledgling organisation (or should I say seedling perhaps) with three of us involved on a regular basis: Myself, Mrs B and Kate, although other members Kate’s entourage are occasionally involved, such as mum Sue, and husband Sam. Not to mention her youngsters one of whom was saleswoman of the month after coercing punters into buying all our bouquets at the Frome flea market last year.

Kate heads up the PR and Marketing division, running the Social Media content, promoting the business, and finding exploring new outlets for our product. And in between ferrying kids to school, she even manages to chuck a few seeds into her own flower patch to produce more stems, so it cannot be a surprise that she has had a disproportionate number of Employee of the Month nominations.

Mrs B has assumed the role of Presentation and Quality Assurance. As The Face of GGF, nothing leaves the premises without her approval. In the early days, she trained the workforce in bouquet design, and she is also head wrapper, folding brown paper with Origamian precision to present the flowers at their finest.

And what of the Midlife Gardener himself? Well, I guess the clue is in the title. I am the ageing horticulturist bumbling round his garden, growing the stems, talking to them, and cutting and conditioning them every week. Sowing and growing takes time and might seem mundane, beside the glamour of Presentation and PR. But for every John and Paul there has to be a Ringo on drums; and Best and Charlton could not have done anything with a football if Nobby Stiles had not been there to do the donkey work. We are all part of a team in which there is no “I”.

But with a bit of creativity, you can find “me” – which is what Kate replied when asked who Employee of the Month should be. Well done, Kate, the GGF EOFTM, goes to you.

Again. (sigh)

In the Green Mid Winter

The Winter Solstice.

Winter Table Decorations for the Local Farmshop Cafe

Eight and a half thousand people gathered to see the sun rise behind the Heel Stone and send its first rays into the heart of Stonehenge on the shortest day of the year.We assume the Ancients celebrated the Solstice because from now daylight hours will start to increase. In the middle of winter, we can just begin to feel a little hopeful, with spring just over the horizon.

Like an ancient pagan, I invest more hope in the solstice with each passing year. I will be looking at the garden for those green shoots which might be groping for the lengthening days. Goodness in the dark days of winter. For me, those green shoots would normally be garlic and onions, but in a change of tack in the Midlife Garden, we have not planted garlic this year.

The other day I saw tiny little bulbs sprouting on the top of three of the Allium Ping Pong I planted last year. In 2025 they only partially flowered, because of the dry summer. Instead, they have produced a plethora of baby bulbs. So, I have stuffed them into pots – and, with any luck, I hope to plant them out in the early spring, when they could provide some colour and, perhaps, some income.

Elsewhere in the garden, I am hopeful the five hundred tulips have settled in and are not rotting under the heavy autumnal rain. Whenever I see Monty Don planting tulips, he bangs on about the need for ‘free draining soil,’ as he shovels grit into his pots. No grit in my tulip bed, but I remain positive.

Free drainage is not a great feature of our clay soil, which was one reason I did follow Monty’s advice with my Dahlias. I lifted them before the frost, even washing the soil off them, as per MD’s advice, and left them in the greenhouse to dry off. Whereupon the hard frost bit them, panicking me into wrapping them up and storing them in the garage. But, as they were still a bit damp, I only succeeded in creating the perfect conditions for many of them to rot. Maybe next time I’ll follow local advice and leave them in the ground, well-mulched. Where, I guess, the rain can rot them instead.

It would be easy to get disheartened when stuff wilts, rots, or dies in the garden, but gardening, by definition, is a pragmatic and uplifting activity, even in the depths of winter. In the greenhouse, there are plenty of seedlings doing well, with sweet peas just coming up and antirrhinums standing strong in their pots, ready for the new season. They might not be flowering by the first wedding of the year on 2nd April (fingers crossed for the tulips on that one) but they will be going strong for a bride’s bouquet in July.

And that is what gardening does: it encourages us to look forward, with patience and positivity, and in the meantime, it keeps us stimulated and busy.