Springfield Pride

Many gardeners are noticing that the cost of buying plants for the garden has increased.  I am no exception and with over an acre to fill, I am always trying to save money.  I propagate what I can and grow plants from seed as well as visiting plant fairs and nurseries rather than shopping in garden centres.

Last season, I was reticent about buying 3 climbing roses for a tenner at Homebase.  We had gone there to buy something else but we always have a good wander around the gardening department.

Doc suggested the roses were worth a try.  I was suspicious and concerned they may not be the best quality plants but I like a challenge and a potential bargain so we brought them home.

The roses were on the small side and I was not surprised that ‘Sunny Weeks’ died over the winter, after all it was very cold and in hindsight I don’t think I planted it in a sunny enough position. 

‘Dreamland’ has been slow to get going.  It has produced one bloom which was supposed to be deep pink but is a very vibrant red colour - I think the labelling must have gone astray.  It is a healthy plant and I think it will put on more of a show next year.  I am looking forward to someone calling round and identifying it for me.

The real winner has been ‘London Bridge’ which has grown magnificently up some trellis near the greenhouse and produced clusters of orange scented flowers which fade to pink.   There are so many flowers that at one point we could hardly see the foliage.   And the bonus is that London Bridge is clear of mildew, rust, blackspot and greenfly.

Conclusion?  Thank you Homebase!  I will be back for some more a.s.a.p.



Ginger is trying to upstage 'London Bridge'......



Round and Round the Bilberry Bushes

Last year, during a wander round the plot, a gardener friend of ours complimented us on our bilberry bushes.  “I haven’t seen bilberries in years”, he said. “They are very difficult to grow, you know.  Your acid soil is just what they like.”

Doc and I sighed simultaneously.   We vaguely knew that bilberries/whortleberries were similar to blueberries but we thought they only grew in the wild.  We thought that our eight feet row of waste high evergreen shrubs alongside the path were boring and pointless.  We had even marked them for removal if we could find a suitable replacement.   It is amazing (and embarrassing) that after seven years of gardening at Springfield, there are still plants which we have not yet identified. 

We asked our friend why we had not noticed the fruits.  He laughed.

“Well, if you don’t look, you won’t see and if you don’t net the fruits the birds and other wildlife will help themselves.”   Quite.   So we pledged to give the bushes some attention this year.
 
In early spring we observed that the bilberry bushes had dainty, sweet scented white bell shaped flowers and although they set fruits, the late May/early June harvest was very small.  The bushes are overgrown and probably in need of a good prune.  Perhaps with a bit of TLC we might be able to grow a decent crop and Doc is hoping that one day, I will present him with a pie.  This may be a little ambitious.  The fruits are very fiddly to pick.  A bilberry is smaller than a blueberry and the bushes produce single or paired berries instead of clusters.  It is more practical to harvest a few on the way down to the vegetable garden and eat them there and then.  

The bilberries are much darker in colour than blueberries and have a fuller, more intense flavour.  Despite the deep red/purple juice which stains your fingers and lips they are far superior to the Blueberry.   I am sure they have strong health giving properties but I doubt we have eaten enough to make any difference.
 
The bilberries are no longer marked for demolition.  They are neither ornamental nor overly useful for the kitchen - but they are interesting - and since they are usually found in the wild rather than in a cultivated garden, they should stay at Springfield.
 
Of course, we are now wondering what other little gems we have already dispatched to the bonfire/compost heap.  Oh dear.  We must proceed with caution.