Summer went past in a flash…it never really got going, here in the UK. We had a few sunny days, but there was no long, warm stretch when the days slip past like beads on a string. The garden suffered, with dips in temperature, some torrential rain, gusting winds and brooding grey skies. But when I look back at my photos, I’m pleased with what I managed to grow.
I think we only managed two barbecues, and I opened the bifold doors just a couple of times. But despite everything, most of my seedlings grew, and flowered. Of course they did.
The sweet peas were a roaring success. I grew them in my raised bed, a mix of autumn and spring sown, and I think they enjoyed the rains, and the space to settle their roots. I fed them with seaweed feed and homemade comfrey tea, and I picked many bunches. My favourites were the dark purple, strongly scented ‘Matucana.’
I started my dahlia tubers in our spare bedroom up in the attic in spring. I’d never tried this before, previously always planting them in the ground. They sprouted, but then grew too fast. Weedy, leggy things, with too-pale leaves, I thought I had ruined the lot. But I planted them out anyway, and despite an onslaught of slugs and snails, some did thrive. The most successful, Arabian Night, grew in an old dustbin that I’d picked up at the car boot sale. In fact, they are still growing. I have had so many bunches of flowers from them, I’ve lost count.
I was really proud of them! My dahlia children.
I may have mentioned before that my Great Grandfather was a champion chrysanthemum grower in the 1920s and 1930s. He filled his tiny terraced back yard in Northampton with an enormous greenhouse, with hot water pipes to heat it. Here he raised some incredible blooms which were highly sought after by head gardeners from some of the local stately homes. I often hope that just a few of his green-fingered genes may have been passed to me….I never used to think they had.
Another of my summer success stories were my straw flowers. Not everyone’s cup of tea, I know, because they are bright, even gaudy. But I just love these rich, jewel colours, and I wanted to grow them badly. I bought a pack of seeds, and was pleased when they germinated quickly. But then they just seemed to stop. I waited, and waited, and eventually I did see some progress in my mini greenhouse. But the seedlings seemed very straggly and lacklustre. When I had eventually raised enough larger ones to plant into a long container, which I placed alongside the brick path, I think every slug in the neighbourhood came to party at the straw flower buffet. I was out there every night, putting down beer traps, wiping the edges of the tub with vaseline and salt, pulling them off by hand. I didn’t want to use slug pellets, I live in hope that we may have a hedgehog calling, and I didn’t want to poison it. But it was so frustrating. Eventually, I did get my reward, and again, these are still flowering away in October. I’ve even dried some for Christmas, and they are hanging up in the shed.
Even my cosmos were attacked by slugs, and I’ve never known that to happen before. But they are tough cookies, and they came through, perhaps not for as long as usual, but I can’t complain. I grew ‘Rubenza’ and ‘Bright Lights.’
Summer produce was welcome.
I didn’t make jam this year, choosing instead to try pickling. So we have some pickled runner beans, and piccalilli maturing in the store cupboard. I’ve also made and frozen gallons of tomato and red pepper soup.
I tried growing some different tomatoes this year. ‘Marmande’ are larger, ridged tomatoes, like the ones you see in French markets. They were fairly successful, although I still have a few green ones. My best tomato plant was one given to me by an interviewee, who insisted that I left her artists’ studio with a triffid-like structure to carry home on the train. I am so glad she did, as it produced the loveliest large fruits I’ve ever had!
I carried on car-booting through the summer, and I found some lovely things for my house and garden.
But most of all, it was the flowers that bewitched me and carried me along through various ups and downs. I’ve said it so many times, but I’d be lost without this little space.
When things feel out of kilter, upsetting, or overwhelming, I can go outside and spend an hour deadheading, watering, pruning, tidying, and it’s just salve for the soul. I took this aerial view when I was on the roof cleaning the windows. It shows just how small the space is, but honestly, I truly believe that doesn’t matter.
I hope you have enjoyed this taste of my summer garden.
I post lots of pictures on instagram @fionacumberpatch if you’d like to join me there.