Basket Makeovers - More Planting Up

Old flower pots seem to re-produce in our garden. There are times I think they do better at reproducing than the plants that were bought contained in them. Put a discreet stack of half a dozen or so behind the garden shed and within a season or two you are knee-deep in plastic pots. They are just one of the kinds of clutter I am trying to get under control. I was about to say you can't even give them away around here but I think I have come up with a way;  raise cuttings, plant them up in the proliferating pots and give them to the plant stall at the local charity garden fete. All I have to do is to make sure I buy fewer plants from said stall than those I donate.It is a rather insignificant drop in the tide however and apparently it is not helped by my habit of re-using other things as planters. And I have been doing just that again. I was trying to sort out the pile of  pots behind the shed when I happened to find a pair of aged baskets near the bottom of the stack.

Considering they had spent at least one winter exposed to the elements they were in fairly good shape I thought. May be they could give another season of use. I quite like the vintage look, even if it might owe more to artifice than age. Some things wear the patina of age with a certain charm but with these I thought there was far too much "shabby" and not enough "chic". Perhaps a light coat of paint would help, there was some not-quite-white matte left from redecorating the dining room.

Not bad, I thought. In fact the lower heart-shaped one  turned out so well it nearly got a fabric lining for something or other indoors but I had an idea for what I wanted to plant in that.

This campanula with its pretty starry blue flowers provides ground cover in several corners of the garden. I liked the idea of the blue with the white of the basket and the way that the heart-shaped leaves  would echo the shape of the container.
I lined it with weed suppressant sheeting.

I traced around the base of the basket onto the sheeting, added a border as wide as the basket was deep, cut it out and then cut through the border to the base shape as needed on the curves and the point so that the liner would sit smoothly inside the basket. You just never know when the skills for  cake tin lining and dress- making pattern cutting will come in handy, do you?
I have planted it up but it will need a while for the plants to take hold, fill out the gaps and flower.

As for the other basket with the handles, it was already lined in plastic. It most probably had some plants in it when it was given to me. This kind of planting is quite popular in supermarkets and garden centres but it is  not very plant friendly as the compost doesn't drain and it is difficult to judge how to water the plants properly without them either drying out or sitting in soggy compost. Yes, it means the container can be placed on furniture indoors without a tray or pot saucer underneath but I'm giving priority to plant welfare. This is why I used the weed suppressant membrane for the first basket..With that in mind, I poked some holes in the plastic lining the second basket to let it drain.
What could be more cheerful than a little basket of alpine strawberries?

They have been in the basket for a few weeks now and obviously like the conditions. Actually these might make good novelties for the plant stall - I will decide if I am prepared to part with them nearer the time. Meanwhile there is that stack behind the shed that hasn't been completely dealt with. I wonder if there is something else interesting in there.

Pottering in the garden

Now it's not as if I haven't got enough flower pots lying about to use for this season's planting plans but a bout of kitchen de-cluttering had left a little stack of kitchen pots and pans to be got rid of and I started seeing another use for them. This is far from the first time I have seen odd items  in terms of garden uses. (Remember this and this?)

Can't you just see them as planters? The old wok and the base of the steamer set (sadly the victim of a boil dry incident which totally wrecked the enamel on the inside) would need drainage holes. HeWhoOwnsTheTools said I should use a special metal drill bit and the electric drill.

Please tell me you will wear safety goggles if you are going to do this. The thought of all those little metal filings being flung about, possibly in the direction of  something as precious and vulnerable as your eyes just doesn't bear thinking about.
With the holes in, I then filled the wok with seed compost, gave it a good drenching with water and let it drain before scattering on the seeds.

A light covering of vermiculite, misted over with a spray bottle to stop it blowing around and I was ready to sit back and wait for my salad leaves to grow.

I find this way of planting a scattering of small seeds works well and stops the seeds from getting washed around.

The top two tiers of the steamer already had a lot of holes.

So many, in fact, that I put in three circles of newspaper to stop the compost being washed out.

I quite like these seed mats, in this case, for basil. A lazy way of ensuring the seeds are well-spaced.

I love basil as a herb. Like parsley and chives, it is something that I never seem to have too much of. However I can never plant up a pot or even buy a pot of basil from the supermarket without being reminded of William Holman Hunt's picture of  Isabella and the Pot of Basil and the rather grisly story behind it in Keats's poem.
The salad leaves are doing well and haven't let the low temperatures over night put them off germinating.

The copper band is that stuff which slugs and snails are supposed not to be able to cross. So far so good - ours are not the only mouths expecting to feed from our garden.
And what has gone into the steamer pot? Why, calendula - otherwise know as pot marigolds, of course.

Blooming Winter

It's been, so far, a mild winter this year; no need to shuffle about cursing the cold so in this instance the title's 'blooming ' refers to flowers.
Although it is the ideal time to admire the architecture of the leafless branches, it can be quite rewarding to perversely seek out flowers. They take some seeking this time of the year as the petals are tiny and more subtly coloured than those of the other seasons.  Even though the wind and the frost make their marks,  there is always something a little unexpected; flowering early or still hanging on from the previous seasons.

 Viburnum as planted by Mother Nature, and I am delighted she selected one with pink and white flowers.

 This is the time of year when I most appreciate the ground cover of the bergenia. Most of the time I feel it warrants the name Elephants Ears as the leaves tend to sprawl carelessly over the space I try to confine it to. But now these pink petals add colour, even if they are somewhat nibbled at the edges.

Clematis Cirrhosa 'Wisley Cream' planted for its winter flowers rambling up the trellis on the front of the house.

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At its feet a clump of leucojum or Snowflakes, appearing very early.

And hanging on way too late, when there simply won't be enough light and warmth, even on the sunniest of days, to open these weather beaten buds, is Souvenir de la Malmaison, determined to display the last roses of the season.

But of course this time of the year is really snowdrop time, and sure enough, here they come pushing their way up through the leaf mould and the last vestiges of the grass.

A Box of Mints

Even when the weather warms up, I usually like to have a hot drink at some point in the day. The perfect light and refreshing alternative to  a caffeine loaded 'cuppa' is mint tea, preferably made with fresh herbs. Having a planter full of mint by the back door acts as a growing tea caddy - and also stops the mint plants turning into invasive thugs and running rampant through everything else.

This all began with clearing out a shed, one of those places where things that "might come in handy some day" get to congregate and settle into rusty retirement along with various bits that didn't warrant a run to the tip in their own right. I came out to review progress just as HeWhoWasLoadingTheBoot ready for the tip run had picked up an old bicycle basket. I doubt either of us can even recall how long it is since anyone living here has owned a bike but I found myself saying "Ah, hang on a minute." I quickly popped some plant pots in it to stake my claim and we finished packing up and taking a car load to the local recycling centre.

 

By the time I got back to look at what I had salvaged, my imagination had taken off completely. I was thinking it would hold a wonderful collection of flourishing herbs each with its own stylish label, may be like these made from old spoons. Of course the pots would have to be tall and narrow; terracotta naturally. Long Toms would do perfectly. Ideally the pots would have 'vintage character' - a tracery of leached lime or a green patina of moss. I could even achieve either of these effects with a little time and trickery and some help from the internet. Then the mist lifted and reality drifted back into focus. All of that would mean postponing the project and leaving stuff lying about again and that was counter to the spirit of the afternoon. And after all this was hardly some unique wire basket picked up from a brocante stall in a French flea market - clearly I spend too much time on the internet and browsing the gift sections of upmarket garden centres. Let's be practical, resourceful and set to work with what is already close at hand. Line the basket and plant directly into it. 

With that in mind, I raided the potting shed for weed suppressant membrane and raked the shadiest patch of the lawn for some moss and set to work.

Using weed suppressant membrane to line the basket seemed a good idea as it will allow excessive moisture through but hold the compost in. I tackled it in much the same way as I would line a loaf tin with baking parchment. I measured out a rectangle by wrapping the membrane down one side, across the base and up the other side and repeating that from front to back. Having cut that out, I then cut in from each corner of  the rectangle to the corner of the base. This allowed some overlap at the corners. I cut out the very top of each corner as those corners just curl in and get in the way. 

To keep the lining in place I used twist ties threaded through the overlapping layers in the corners and around the basket uprights in each corner. If I had had some pieces of polystyrene I would have put a layer of them in the bottom for drainage and that would have been a good idea if I was going to plant herbs like sage, thyme and oregano but mint is quite happy with moisture around the roots so sharp drainage isn't crucial. 

 I filled the basket with a mixutre of multi-purpose compost, sifted garden compost made in our garden and also I added a couple of trowelfuls of ash and charcoal from where we had our last bonfire. Now black membrane doesn't look all that special - considering the dreamy ambitions I had for this project earlier on. So at this point I tucked moss between the wire of the basket and the membrane lining. 

I found that I had several varieties of mint in various little pots and thought they would make a good collection for this basket. 

Morrocan mint - ideal for mint tea but also good for cooking.

Lime mint - this adds a citrussy kick to the mint flavour.

Corsican mint - this is a tiny leaved mint with a creeping habit but no diminuition of the lovely mint fragrance

Peppermint - makes a lovely tea to settle an upset stomach

Eau-de-cologne mint - another lovely tea, this time for those times when your head feels muzzy and a headache seems imminent.

Culinary mint - this was the remnants of a pot of mint I had bought in the supermarket after the the frosts had sent the mint in the garden into hibernation. ( I had forgotten to pot some up for the kitchen windowsill in early autumn.)

So all of these plants went into the basket and then I simply had to water and wait - skills  all gardeners have to practise often.

Weeks later and the plants seem to be very happy with their new quarters - as shown at the top of this post.

 My favourite bit? The way that the Corsican mint has settled into the understorey below the others and has crept out down the side to colonise the moss. It even has enchanting tiny mauve flowers.

 

The old bicycle basket has all but disappeared now (and when I come to replant it in the future I will wirebrush it to remove the last bits of decrepit plastic) but the mint seems very happy and I am happy to have it by the back door, handy to nip off a few sprigs for tea. 

Flower Worship

Now that the snow here has melted and the first flowers of the year emerge, it is time for galanthophiles to wrap up warmly and set out on snowdrop walks. I love to see these delicate reminders of the suggestion that even while the bleakness, the dark and the cold are still with us, there is hope that there will also be flowers and blossom soon to follow. I have treasured the few snowdrops we inherited with the garden and have been delighted to see them spread to become a carpet beside the footpath. I don't rank myself among the truly or obsessively devoted to these pristine little flowers as I have never intentionally planted them or sought to collect new varieties or even set out  especially to walk amongst them in the several well-known locations around here. But every year I find myself wondering what it is that inspires a passion far greater than my affection. What is it about any flower that invokes this great love? There are societies whose members devote themselves to the propagation of orchids, fuchsias and so many others. There are those inspired by their passion to raise and maintain national collections. What is it about human nature and human senses that such specific colour and form can inspire such devotion of time, effort and resources to the extent that it necessarily excludes most other plants?

I may have come close to finding out when I encountered the Sacred Lotus. In the Botanic Gardens in Adelaide you can round a bend in the path and glance across to see a sight which can stop you in your tracks. It can send any thoughts you had of seeing the whole garden in a morning, or  friends waiting to meet you for coffee at the kiosk, or the guided tour you thought you might join, far from your mind.

 

 So you catch your breath and stand stock still for a moment and then give in to the urge to draw closer. The soft green leaves are waist high obscuring the pond; only the sounds of moorhens and wood duck  happily splashing about under their cover hint at the presence of the water. The flowers are at eye level opening from a neatly furled pink bud to the open flower fading to cream. Then the petals drop to reveal the conical seed head shaped just like the spray head of a watering can. Leaves, buds, flowers, seed heads are all instantly recognisable as motifs used in Eastern and Egyptian art.

In my case it took sometime for this visual impact to wane enough for me to remember that I had a camera and like other visitors could try to capture the beauty of these plants. 

I also began to listen to the conversation between a guide and the gardener tasked with the job of wading waist deep into the pond to pick some of the flowers. Parts of the plant are sources of food and medicine in other cultures. Scientists working with this particular planting have found that the plant has the ability almost unknown in the plant kingdom to regulate its temperature. It also features in the symbolism of several religions. Stunning, remarkable and an instance of that overworked word, iconic.

I still have no rational explanation of what drives some people to become enthusiasts, devotees, obsessives or just fans of a particular flower but I think I have an inkling of the feelings  that fire such inspiration.