Winter is here ...

Winter arrived this week, just in time for the December edition of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. I don't have much to show this year though - not like 2007 when I still had pelargoniums, marigolds and several other annuals in full bloom, or even 2008 when my antirrhinums were still going strong. This year, all that's in bloom are my chrysanthemums.

It's not been a cold autumn. Although recently it had started to get chillier, daytime temperatures were still reaching 10 or 11°C (50-52°F). And then suddenly the forecast was for maximum 7°C and minimum 3°C. Not freezing yet, but enough to start warning bells ringing in any gardener's mind. And when on Saturday morning I went out to find a bitterly cold north wind blowing - well, it was clearly time to put the balcony to bed.

And so at lunchtime I was outside making preparations for the winter. The last of the annuals - by now fading fast - got pulled up, and the perennials moved back from the balcony railings to nestle up to the warmth of the walls of the house. A little bit of water just to stop them drying out completely, and on went the fleece. All that's left now are the bulbs - many of which are already poking through. I've replanted the daffs and tulips from last year, to see if they'll do anything, and I also have several containers of mystery bulbs - bulbs I found in my London garden in the summer and brought back with me. They're all coming through well, but so far I've still not been able to recognise what they are. Some with long grass like stems may be snowflakes - but we'll have to wait and see.

And of course there's this year's new collection. I've said before that you virtually have to take out a mortgage to buy bulbs from the garden centres in Milan, and so every year I wait for the Fiera del Artigianato - a trade fair held in early December. It's hard to translate Artigianato. It means crafts - but has a much wider sense than the English word. The fair this year covered everything from what you would expect from the words crafts, to food, to furniture, to clothes, to solar panels and even boats. It's huge, and is divided into geographical areas. The Italian stands are grouped by regions, and the others by continents and then individual countries. So I spent three hours wandering around the world, drooled over some antique ceramics from China, had dinner in India, saw some incredible drumming and bagpipe playing in Scotland, bought some cheese in Switzerland (made with carrots, absolutely scrummy), and ended up in Holland where I have an annual date with a Dutch bulb stand.

And here's what I bought this year - from left to right : allium, fritillaria, freesia, dwarf iris, and lily of the valley. And one other bulb. But oh, was that a mistake ....

It intrigued me when I saw it on the stand. It had an interesting name and a strange flower which reminded me of something I'd heard of blooming at Kew Gardens, a bloom that was so rare it made the news. But no, obviously it couldn't it couldn't possibly be that .... So I thought I'd get one and check on the internet later to see exactly what it was. And oh, what a mistake I've made. this is something that has absolutely no place on a balcony. I'm going to be loathed and reviled by not only my family but also the neighbours. Really, I should throw it straight down the waste chute.

But of course I can't. So I've promised myself I'll grow it, let the flower open, take a photo and then cut it off and throw it out. Quickly. What is it and why does it terrify me so? Over to you. As it's Christmas, I'm giving away a little prize - five Balcony Garden greetings cards (similar to the one below) with some of the best photos from the last few years. First person to identify it and explain and why it's such a big mistake wins.

GBBD : July Wilt

July wilt. You won't find it listed under pests and diseases in your gardening books, but it's one of the worst threats to the garden I know. July comes, the temperature rises over 35°C (95°C), the humidity soars, and the plants wilt. And so does the gardener.

The good times are over. May and June, when everything was green and bursting into bloom, seem far away. Some things resist - these little pelargoniums are doing well - this is the second time they've flowered, and so are several of the surfinias and petunias - though I've lost a lot of others.

But they're the exceptions. All over the balcony plants have succumbed to the heat, to pests or to fungus diseases, leaving tell-tale brown patches in the containers which have to be filled with tougher plants, that resist better. But who has the energy to get to the garden center and buy them? I take advantage of the cool half hour after a late afternoon storm to run out and pick up a few periwinkles - a Godsend at this time of the year. They come into bloom just as everything else is dying, love the heat, and never seem to be touched by any sort of pest or disease. Regularly in July I find myself saying - To hell with it. Next year, I'm just growing periwinkles.

And for the small gaps there are always baby spider plants to be detached from their "mothers" and tucked into the pots. Not desperately impressive maybe, but better than brown spaces.

Not everything hates the heat of course. The plumbago thrives in it. I had disappointing results with my plumbago last year because I'd moved it to a place where it didn't get enough sun, and hadn't bothered to prune. This spring I cut it right back and moved it back to the balcony railing, where it had always been happy before. And once again, it's been full of blooms - they've occasionally been spoilt by the thunderstorms, but there have been so many that within a couple of days it's bounced straight back.

There's not much else to show for this month's Garden Blogger's Bloom Day, but one container has surprised me.

My calendula have done well this year and are full of buds. They usually submit to mildew fairly early on, but this year have been fine. I miscalculated a bit with the arrangement - I thought the marigolds would be taller and the calendula shorter - perhaps I should have pinched them out. And don't ask me how that sunflower got in the back there. I've left him because at least he matches the colour scheme ...

I found out today that Milan is classed as having a humid subtropical climate - that's the same as the south-eastern states of the US - Alabama, Mississippi and so on. Which in one way is a lucky coincidence, because it means that my new balcony experiment might not be so crazy after all. I'm growing a plant which I've not seen in Italy before, but which would be right at home in Alabama. It germinated about a fortnight ago and is growing fast. Any guesses?

Gardeners' Bloom Day - May

For all of this spring, Gardeners' Bloom Day has come and gone each month and I've not been there. But then I've not been there at all much recently - work commitments and then family problems have meant that blogging has been very low priority for a while. But it's the end of the year - the academic year anyway - and even if I'm not quite on holiday yet, my workload has already halved. So I'm back and will be posting regularly again. Very regularly I hope - although I didn't have time to write, the ideas kept coming and it's going to be fun writing them all up.

But back to the plot, and Gardeners' Bloom Day. Sadly, it's not only been blogging that I've had to neglect recently, but gardening as well. With predictable results. Yes, there's plenty of stuff on the balcony, but I've not had time to look after it properly - things haven't been deadheaded regularly enough, pests and diseases have been allowed to get too much of a foothold before I got to them, and lots of the stuff I'd planned to have in bloom by now is still sitting there in its seed packets. So no long sweeping views of the balcony in a riot of colour this month I'm afraid. Just photos of the individual flowers which are keeping me going.



I'll start with the exception though. The surfinias are super, as are their stubbier cousins the petunias, though this pink one was an unintentional purchase. What I actually bought was the purple one you can see behind it. But after a couple of weeks it became apparent that there were actually two plants in the pot - they hadn't been thinned out properly. And the second was this rather gooey pink colour.

Then there are these little pelargoniums which have been lovely, though they're just past their best now. I finally got round to dead-heading them yesterday, so I'm hoping they'll bloom again ...

The mallow, on the other hand, is just coming into bloom, having survived last month's leaf miner and red spider mite attacks. Not many flowers yet, but loads of buds.

The hollyhocks are nice too, but haven't given me very many flowers this year, and the plants are a bit straggly. They're quite old now - I think at the end of the year I'll get rid of them and start again.

The nasturtiums are blooming quite well, but I'd hoped for more. They've been attacked by goodness knows what and have lost a lot of leaves, so they've become a bit leggy.

And finally there's this little Begonia pendula, which is new for me this year, Sweet, but not what I'd been expecting. The flowers illustrated on the packet are double and don't have the central yellow part - quite different. And there are a lot more of them - but perhaps that's the gardener's fault ...

But perhaps I should stop beating myself up quite so much about the lack of flowers, because looking up at other people's balconies, they don't seem much better - and I have one or two neighbours who are usually strong competition. And looking back to the GBD post for two years ago, I noticed that in 2007 my plumbago was already in flower. So far this year I haven't seen so much as a bud. And it's not just mine - no-one else's is in bloom either. So maybe it's just a slow year. The weather has been strange (but then when isn't it?). Cold, wet weeks alternating with temperatures of over 30°C (that's mid to high eighties in fahrenheit).

But to finish - a note about Gardeners' Bloom Day. Just in case there's anyone left on the planet who hasn't heard of it, it's an idea started a couple of years back by Carol of May Dreams Gardens. Carol had the brilliant idea of suggesting that on the 15th of each month everyone should post about the flowers which were currently blooming in their gardens. It's been incredibly successful, with scores of people taking part each month. I've not missed many - this is my 22nd GBD post. You can find out who's posted this month by checking Carol's blog and the comments left on her own post.

Gardeners' Bloom Day - February

I was hoping they'd make it for today. I've been watching them for a month now, at first hardly visible amongst the leaves, then gradually elongating and holding up little swan-like heads. Timidly starting to unfurl.

But we're shy. And then, it's been so cold ...

Too cold. I've lost a lot this winter. Plants which have made it through other winters have blackened and died ...

But it's better now. The sun is shining and we can feel its warmth. Perhaps we will come out and open up ...

There's still a chill wind though, and the nights are cold. Careful.

We will be. But it's been so long ... It's time, it must be time.

And yes, today for the first time it did almost seem as if spring was in the air. The temperature on the balcony at lunchtime was a comfortable 11°C (52°F) even if it did drop considerably as the sun passed over and left us in the shade. But it wasn't so much the temperature as the quality of the light - or was it the smell in the air? I don't know. In any case, it didn't feel like winter any more.

Dangerous words. Most of Italy is still grappling with snow, and there's plenty of time for it to come back here. Am I just imagining the spring? Is it just wishful thinking?

My little cyclamen don't think so, and neither do the tulip and daffodil bulbs which are starting to push through. Or the lily bulbs. Or the agapanthus. Everything is starting to put out shoots, or to look just that bit greener, as if they're slowly coming out of a long, long sleep.

So no, I don't have much to show you for Gardeners' Bloom Day this month. But I will have soon. It's time to get ready ...

Gardeners' Bloom Day : Antirrhinums

It's Gardeners' Bloom Day again, and what have I got on the balcony? Bloomin' antirrhinums. Well, what else were you expecting in December?

I've written before about how, though usually considered as annuals, antirrhinums are actually perennials and will put up with a lot. This plant is about four years old by now, and has been snowed on regularly. The microclimate on the balcony protects it from long periods below freezing, but they're tougher than the gardening books sometimes make out. They're usually classed as "half-hardy", but in my experience it's nearer three-quarters.

What I didn't mention before though was the fact not only will it survive the winter, but you'll also get flowers. It's a bit like with winter flowering pansies - although their "real" flowering period is the spring, they'll also put out a few blooms around Christmas. Well, mine do anyway. Last year I thought it was just a freak occurrence, but now it's happening again with the same plant. It's got four or five flower spikes in bud at the moment.

OK, it's nothing compared to May. But at this time of year I reckon you have to be grateful for what you can get. So thank you little plant, and may you bloom on happily all through the cold months to come.

Heaths and Heathers

Heaths and heathers - can you tell them apart? I'm not sure. I've pored over the descriptions and photos in my gardening books and on the net, and I'm still not sure what I've got on the balcony at the moment. They were sold as Erica - that is heath - though the variety wasn't specified. But Erica is supposed to have needle-like leaves, and mine are different - to me they look like the leaves of Calluna vulgaris - the Scottish heather or ling. Some species and varieties of Erica don't flower at this time of year, but others do - so that doesn't help.

Does it make much difference? Not really. Calluna is hardier than Erica, but that's not a problem on the balcony, where I can easily protect against the few really cold spells we have. We're in zone 8, and while it can drop well below freezing outside, the warmth from the house means the balcony is far less at risk. I'm more worried about summer heat, and as many species of Erica are limited to southern Europe and Africa, thought it might be a better bet. But no, Calluna vulgaris is supposed to like full sun and be heat tolerant - suitable for US heat zones 4-7. I'm not sure what our heat zone is, but I suspect it's somewhere in that range. Heat zones are based on the number of days per year the temperature rises above 30°C/86F, and for us that means any time mid-June to early September, with the middle six weeks rarely far below. I have to say though that it surprised me. I wouldn't have thought that a plant which chose to grow so abundantly on the Scottish moors would be a sun-lover.

But apart from hardiness, they both seem to like identical treatment : acid soil, no fertiliser, and constant moisture but good drainage. So from that point of view it doesn't really matter that I'm not sure what I've got.

In any case, they're my choice for this month's Gardeners' Bloom Day post. Yes, I know - late again. I didn't really have much choice this month. It's been a busy period for work and most of the stuff on the balcony is currently dead or dying - I kid myself it's due to the change of the season, but several plants have been looking at me accusingly and muttering under their leaves about neglect and cruelty. I'm sorry - I will get back out to you sooner or later, I promise ...

I forgot...

Browsing through some blogs yesterday, I came across some Gardeners' Bloom Day posts. Eeek ... is it the 15th already? This month I completely forgot about it for the first time ever - and I've been posting for GBD since it started. I've been late before, because of lack of time, but I've never just forgotten. Old age creeps insidiously closer...

But perhaps one of the reasons I didn't think about it is because when I asked myself what was in bloom on the balcony this month, the answer was ... nothing much. Or at least, nothing that I haven't already blogged about in the past couple of months. The four o'clocks are still going strong, as are the impatiens and periwinkles. The purple surfinia have had it and the yellow surfinia and purple sage are past their best. I'd probably have more to show if I'd had more time, but it's been a busy month, and the balcony has been a bit neglected.

But as I walked past my local garden centre the other day, I saw these. Impatiens New Guinea, growing in a large container together with a small Maple tree. By chance I had my camera with me, and couldn't resist ...

So for this GBD I'm showing you what my balcony could be looking like at the moment if I'd taken as much care of it this summer as the people at the garden centre obviously have with these. I'm not very good with Impatiens New Guinea. They're sun lovers, but need copious amounts of water. And if they're neglected, they succumb very quickly to red spider mite. Each year I try again - I had some lovely pink ones back in the early summer - but sooner or later I lose them.

A pity, because by the time they've grown to this size, they're glorious. Ah well, perhaps next year will be different ...

Plumbago

Plumbago, or Cape Leadwort (Plumbago auriculata). It has to be one of my favourite flowers and there was never any doubt that it would pop up as one of my "Gardener's Bloom Day Flowers of the Month" some time this year. But it nearly didn't make it. Last year plumbago was in full bloom in June here. This year, with the cold wet spring we had it was late. June came and went, but there was no sign. And then in July I started noticing it blooming on other people's balconies.

But not on mine. Only in the last week or so have a few blooms come out, and nothing like the show I'd been expecting. The plant is green and healthy, so I'm putting it down to a change in position. Up to now I've always had it trailing over the balcony rail, whereas this year I decided to train it up the trellis backing on to the house. And I think it's just been in too much shade to bloom properly.

There's a lot of contradictory information about the plant on the web. You'll read it thrives in the heat and the sun. Or that it should be protected from too much direct sunlight. That it can't take temperatures under 7°C. And that it will survive frosts. That it does well in poor soil. That it likes a rich compost. The list goes on.

In my experience it's a tough little plant that will grow under a range of conditions. I don't think there's any doubt that it likes the sun (it's native to South Africa after all). But I find that its also fairly hardy. I cover mine in winter but most of my neighbours don't and it seems to survive, despite the fact that temperatures may be well below zero at times.

I don't give mine any special treatment and, apart from the lack of blooms this year, have never had problems. It's grown in ordinary soil, and fed and watered much the same as any other plant. As the water here is very hard, plants which are really particular about acidic soil just don't make it under normal watering conditions, but I've never had problems on that front.

Another reason I may not be getting many blooms this year is because I didn't prune this spring. Plumbago blooms off the new wood, and can be cut back fairly enthusiastically to encourage new growth and keep it in check. In a garden it can reach three or four feet high, so in a container it needs a bit of restraint.

It's also one of the few plants I have which doesn't seem to suffer from red spider mite - or anything else for that matter. It's poisonous, and for those of you who have the problem, deer will avoid it. (That does come from the net - we don't get many on the balcony.) It does attract butterflies, though as I've never had caterpillar damage i presume it's just for the flowers.

For me, the powder blue colour of my plant is the "classic" plumbago colour, though I've seen some darker blue varieties which were also very striking. Personally, I'm less keen on white.

One last thing - if you're growing it for the first time, don't panic if nothing seems to be happening in spring. It's deciduous and the new leaves come through very late. When everything else is bursting into life it's still there, brown and dead looking. But it isn't. Stick with it.

Gardener's Bloom Day : Mirabilis Jalapa

This month's GBD post (a bit late - sorry) focuses on a plant I've grown for the last three years, and which has become a firm favourite - Mirabilis Jalapa. Originally from South America, it's been known in Europe for the last five hundred years. It's a plant which has a thousand and one common names - you probably know it as the Four o'clock plant, but it's also commonly called Beauty of the night or Marvel of Peru amongst other things in English, while the Chinese apparently call it the Rice Boiling Plant or Shower Flower, and in Hong Kong it's Purple Jasmine.

It's a sun loving plant which can't take cold temperatures, and is therefore often grown as an annual. However, although it will die down in the autumn, the tubers can be lifted and stored, much like dahlias, or if it's not too cold just left where they are. This year I grew some plants from last year's tubers and others from seed, starting both off at about the same time. The tubers have come on far faster and are now in flower, while the others are still fairly small. If you do plant from seed, try soaking the seeds for a day or so before you put them in. They germinate far faster.

The plants grow to about 3ft, and don't seem to have any particular requirements as far as soil is concerned, though one site I found suggested they like slightly alkaline conditions. That would explain why they do so well for me, as the water here is very hard, and I have problems with lime-hating plants. They need a lot of water, and wilt immediately if they get dry. However, despite looking very dramatic, they do pick up again well once they've had a good soak.

The plants put out copious quantities of flowers, which can have a wide range of colours and are sometimes variegated. They're set off well by the bright green leaves which are half the attraction of the plant. The flowers are well known for the fact that they don't open till the evening - hence many of their names - but the other intriguing thing about them is that they will often put out different coloured flowers on the same plant. It hasn't happened yet this year, but here's a photo of one I had two years ago.

The flowers only last a day, but are replaced by others immediately. Large seeds then form, at first greeny yellow but maturing to black, again providing an attractive contrast with the foliage.

In a garden the plant will happily self seed, but if you don't want it to it's easy to collect the seeds for storage (if time consuming because of the quantities). If you have small children around, however, beware. The seeds, which look temptingly like little sweets, are poisonous - as are other parts of the plant.

Being poisonous hasn't stopped it having a long history as a medicinal plant however, as it also has antifungal and antiviral properties (don't try this at home). Various chemical compounds extracted from the plant are now used commercially as the basis of products combatting viruses in crops such as corn and potatoes.

This probably explains why they are one of the few plants that I've never seen affected by pests and diseases. While all else is succumbing to the red spider mite or powdery mildew, the Four o'clocks plough on bright and healthy. Which for me guarantees their place on the balcony any year.

Explore some more ....

Raintree Nutrition

Rainyside Gardeners

Gardener's Bloom Day : Nasturtiums

Wow, are we late this year. I've just checked back to last year's June GBD post and the first photo was plumbago in full bloom. But today, although it's healthy and green,there's not a bud in sight. Hardly surprising when the temperature outside is 16°C (61°F) at 3pm and it's been raining almost uninterruptedly for the last ten weeks. They say it's all due to La Nina, but whatever it is, it's playing havoc on the balcony, with everything doing well but weeks behind schedule. We harvested the first japanese loquats from the trees in the condominium garden around about May 20 last year too, and they were delicious. This year they finally ripened this week and were completely insipid.

I didn't record temperatures last year and now wish I had. But I remember that we were already complaining about the heat and humidity. Today I'm sitting here in a woolly jumper. I don't remember that ever happening - according to the BBC's average temperatures it should be anywhere between 27-35° C (81-95°C). There are advantages of course - the main one being that I'm not complaining about the heat and humidity. But there have been noticeably fewer pests this year. Not only has red spider mite been far less of a problem, but whereas this time last year the caterpillarium was already in full swing, this year I've hardly noticed any caterpillars at all (not that that's necessarily a good thing - it also means no butterflies).

When I realised that Gardener's Bloom Day had come around again, I panicked. Apart from plants like pelargoniums and surfinia which I've amply blogged about recently, there's nothing at all impressive in bloom. Or so I thought - then I went out and found that the nasturtiums had bloomed overnight. never mind that they were in May's post last year. This year they're my flower for June.

Nasturtiums like sun - which explains why they're so late this year. They are originally from South America and give the most flowers if they're planted in poor soil - very poor soil. Monty Don suggests planting them in the dust you sweep up from the garden path - check out the video link on this page from the BBC to see why.

Apart from the great flowers they give, they're also edible - add the young leaves to salads for a peppery taste a bit like rocket, or use the young seeds as a substitute for capers. The leaves are also good for you as they contain Vitamin C and iron. But if you want to grow them specifically for food, plant in rich soil - you won't get so many flowers but you'll have a lot more leaves. For a salad recipe see here, or here you'll find a recipe which uses the flowers.

They also have antiseptic properties, and you can make a tisane out of the flowers and leaves which is supposed to be useful against bronchitis.

May GBD - Pelargoniums

It's Gardener's Bloom Day again, and the balcony is now looking quite different from last month. The pansies have finished rioting, the summer flowering plants have shot up in height, and the hollyhocks and dahlias are covered in buds but not quite there yet. But the flowers which are dominating this month are my pelargoniums.

I have a love-hate relationship with pelargoniums. They're as common as muck on balconies, and I always feel that perhaps I should be devoting my time and the balcony space to something a bit more original. But if they're common, there's a reason for it - they look so glorious when they're in full flower.


So this year I've succumbed, and the pelargonium collection has grown. I've now got three types - more of the zonal pelargoniums which I've had for years, some new dark pink and white regal pelargoniums, and some ivy-leaved pelargoniums, which I bought last year for the office, transferred here for the winter and never took back.

The ivy leaved pelargoniums were looking pretty tacky at the end of the year, and I had to cut a lot of dead stuff off. But they've sprung back, and now look great from the path outside the house.


I posted about the regal pelargoniums a while back, and Kris of Blithewold left a comment asking if I knew the variety. Annoyingly, I did but have forgotten. I got them at a big flower market which is held here every year, and they were labelled with the variety name. but I didn't write it down and .... I've been hunting on the Internet ever since I got Kris' comment, but can't find anything which is exactly the same.


I've now got zonal pelargoniums in three colours. I took a lot of cuttings from a red variety which I had last year, and those are now thriving. My salmon-pink pelargoniums have been flowering non-stop for years - there hasn't been a week when they've not had at least one bloom - and show no sign of giving up. So I've bought two smaller ones with variegated flowers to keep them company in the container and set them off.


This white pelargonium is another cutting - but I can't for the life of me remember what happened to the mother plant. Anyway, it looks great together with the blue campanula and aubretia in this pot.


Pelargoniums are native of South Africa, and love the hot, sunny conditions we get on the balcony in summer. They don't like the cold, but over-winter well covered with fleece and placed inside the balcony and near the house, where the temperature stays above freezing. They are fairly resistant to pests and diseases, though caterpillars like to munch away at the leaves. The main pest here in southern Europe are the caterpillars of cacyreus marshalli, also a South African native, which was somehow transported to Europe in the late 80s and is now the bane of any pelargonium lover's life. I wrote this post about it last year.