JUST recently, a plant died in my garden. That’s not so unusual – my plants die just like anybody else’s. In fact, it always puzzles me that out of a punnet of six healthy seedlings, there’s often one, planted on the same day into the same soil, that will curl up its roots and wither away while the others thrive. Despite my best care, it’s bound for plant heaven!
Last November, I planted massed purple petunias for my mum. She loves them and keeps trying to decide which shade she likes best. But after months of hot summer sun, they have become straggly. The leaves have a dull white mould and although the flowers do their best to appear perky – it’s not a pretty sight.
Poinsettias are the Pound Puppies of the plant world; lovely gifts for Christmas, but by February, they’ve lost their charm and most of their leaves and are bound for the compost.
A garden illusion that is all paths and mirrors! In my little suburban garden, I like to keep the flower beds fairly small. At their widest, mine range between one, or one and a half metres. That way, I have a chance of reaching the back of the bed for pruning and weeding.