I can’t be wordless this Wednesday, because I’ve just found a plant with an identity crisis:
It is January, for heaven’s sake. What does this Osteospermum think it is doing? I mean, I know it’s been mild – wet, yes, but comparatively mild – but that’s just silly.
And something tells me that these Cerinthe seedlings are in for a shock, too:
They are all over the place. You’d think that Cerinthe seeds were large enough for me to notice, but I did have a lot of plants. And a lot of bark chippings for them to hide inside.
The earliest crocuses do usually appear about now, so I’m not so worried about them. I did think, though, that I had better photograph them before they got shredded by the weather, while they still look attractive and not moth-eaten.
I planted these – they fall into my fetish for striped flowers – so I ought to know what they are. That’s the theory. I think I’d better make a resolution for this year – save labels and packaging, or at the very least (jackdaws like ripping up labels and tossing them about, or at least mine do, possibly while hunting chafer grubs) make a note and add roughly where the plant has been put. It’s not impossible; I used to do it. Once upon a time.
I’ve also acquired an unexpected non-plant bonus,
entirely due to a new and surprisingly impressive leak, and an emergency call for help. Forty-plus slates needing replacing, just before Christmas (mind you, it’s probably as well they went when they did, in view of the continuing vile weather). So I’ve kept the remains and we’re going to break them up and use them around the exposed roots of the Western Red Cedar that was taken down in the summer. I had thought of doing a ‘before and after’ post, but since you can’t actually see further than about 10 metres today, that’s gone out the window.
Maybe that big yellow thing that appeared in the sky briefly yesterday will come back. Maybe.