Tag Archives: sweet pea

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.

The Sweet Scent of Success

We are coming to the end of sweet peas in the garden.  They are, to me, a bellwether flower.  Every gardener seems to grow them and anyone who sees ours in the bookshop feels compelled to comment on them, before adding a self-assessment of their own sweet peas; as if the growing of sweet peas is an indicator of one’s horticultural credentials. 

When I think of sweet peas, I think of my mother.  Throughout the summer she would provide bunches to take away whenever we stayed and when, after she died, I started growing them myself it seemed apt that the first flower seemed always to appear on her birthday – 10th July.

Over time, we have managed to bring forward the sweet pea season, but when we were tasked with supplying flowers for “The Wedding of the Year”, on 13th July, I knew we would have to bring our A-game to make sure Verity was not walking up the aisle with just a single sweet pea in her bouquet.

Planning was essential, with seeds bought as early as August last year, and sown in November.  Germination was good, but by January the ranks had been decimated by damping off.  But, as we had sown enough to sink a Russian battleship, the remaining plants ensured we were still in with a fighting chance of producing enough flowers for the summer. 

By March they were bursting out of their pots and storage containers and needed more room outside of the greenhouse.  I used to think that Sweet Peas are not hardy, but they can survive anything down to -4C, so we took a low risk gamble and planted them out.  Despite the wet weather, the first flower appeared on 5th May and by July they were in full bloom, so the job was a good ‘un. 

They have continued to crop heavily until just a week ago.  So heavily, in fact, that the rectangular frame of old gazebo poles and green netting collapsed under the weigh and now resembles the Wembley goalposts of 1977 after celebratory Scottish fans invaded the pitch.

The results were good, but after the planning and the doing, we are now in the reviewing stage and need to plan to ensure even better performance next summer.  Sterilising plant pots could reduce the chance of damping off and continuing to nip out the shoots undoubtedly helped the crop.

As to which varieties to grow, it is clear that some are better suited for cutting than others.  We tried 13 different varieties from two different suppliers (Higgledy Garden & Premier Seeds Direct):

Heaven Scent Mix

Mammoth Scarlet

Parfume Millennium

Parfume White Supreme

Winston Churchill

Beaujolais

Leamington

Painted Lady

Cupani

Starry Night

Perfume Delight

Mammoth

Swan Lake

It is not easy deciding which to buy again.  Success is not marked by sweet scent alone so, for example, although Cupani has a lovely aroma, it has short thin stems, while the Parfume white has wonderful long, strong stems, but is less scented.  Ah, but which to choose?  Perhaps we should decide it in the style of Harry Hill:

“FIGHT!!!”

May Now

May is deceptive.  You think there is sunshine and warmth there, but look closer and all you see is grey and coldness. That’s the PM for you.

It’s no different in the garden, where temperatures remain cool and seedlings need to be tough to harden off before planting.  Even before getting to the veg patch they have to combat the “bloody difficult” slugs which continue to chomp on them, but enough are surviving the onslaught to make it to potting on.  Despite the snails rampaging through seedlings like the SNP through the Labour heartlands, I have managed to pot up plenty of Summer PSB, and enough Brussels to pay for ten thousand new policemen.  I think that figure is correct.  Give me a moment….

This weekend it did start to feel warmer and Mrs B helped me plant out the sweet peas in the goalposts.  Last year the first sweet pea blossomed on 27th May – a month and a half earlier than the usual Sweet Pea Day of 10th July.  I cannot see that we will have a sweet pea by that time this year, but perhaps one will bloom on 8th June.  We could do with something uplifting and beautiful to happen on that day.  I am not expecting any other wonderful surprises then.

Sweet Peas – “Back of the Net”
Korean Mint. Another immigrant flavour.
Hardening off
Coriander
Basil!
Brussels. UKIP’s favourite vegetable
“We’ll keep the red kale flying here”
Policemen
Ranunculus in the morning