My Dear Gardening Friends,

My computer has gone crazy – this is the third time I have tried to write this column and twice it has just vanished!!!!!

Valentine’s Day is fast approaching and I am still surprised to see that there are cards for grandchildren and neighbours (maybe appropriate if one is lusting after, desiring, hoping, etc.). When I was young, greetings and sweet words were for sweethearts only – or as I said before, the one you were lusting after. For many years I had a friend sign and address a valentine card. I placed it in another envelope and sent it to my sister in England, and she then mailed it in Derby, her husband/my beloved brother-in-law. He died without knowing who or where it had come from.

The flower of choice for this romantic day is of course the rose. One makes a statement as much as a dozen!!!! The rose is one of the oldest flowers known to mankind – and is still one of the most popular. Nebuchadnezzar used them to decorate his palace. In Persia where they are still grown for their perfume oil, the petals were used to stuff his mattress. I hope that they were changed regularly for there is nothing worse than the smell of rotting rose petals!!!

In Kashmir, the Mogul emperors cultivated beautiful rose gardens – and you thought that they were merely bloodthirsty murderers! The emperors had roses strewn into the rivers to welcome them home from their exploits. Roses later became synonymous with the worst excesses of the Roman Empire – the poor peasants were ordered to grow roses instead of food!!! The emperors filled their swimming pools and fountains with rose water, sitting on carpets of roses and rose petals for their infamous feasts and orgies. Heliogabalus used to shower his guests with rose petals, having them tumble down from the ceilings – one account states that on one occasion there were so many that some of his guests suffocated!!

As we all know the rose is the flower of love. It was created by Chloris the Greek goddess of flowers, seemingly one day whilst walking in the woods she discovered a dead nymph. She went to Aphrodite, the goddess of love, and asked for help to revive the dead nymph. It was given Beauty. Dionysus, the god of wine, added nectar to give her a sweet scent. The three Graces gave Charm, Brightness and Joy. Zephyr, the West Wind, blew away the clouds so that Apollo, the Sun god, could shine and make the flowers bloom. And so the rose was born. It was immediately crowned Queen of the Flowers.

There are many legends telling us how the red roses got their colour. The Romans believed that Venus blushed when Jupiter caught her bathing and that the white rose turned red in her reflection. The Greek legend says that Aphrodite and Persephone were both in love with Adonis and used to share his favours. However, when Aphrodite decided to prevent Adonis from returning to her rival in the underworld, Persephone asked Ares, the god of war, to help her. When Adonis was hunting in the woods one day he was attacked by a wild boar and died. Aphrodite flew to his side, scratching herself on a white rose bush. Red roses sprang up where her blood had fallen for the whole bush had turned red in sympathy.

Early Christians made red roses the symbol for martyrs blood and white roses have been associated with innocence and purity. The Virgin Mary is said to have put her veil on a red rose bush to dry, afterwards it only produced white flowers. Red and white roses together mean unity. The White rose was the emblem of the House of York, the Red the House of Lancaster. After thirty years of war the two houses were finally joined by marriage and the two roses were joined to form the symbolic Tudor Rose which still appears on heraldry today. A red and white damask rose has been bred and named the Lancaster York Rose.

The meaning of the Yellow Rose in the language of flowers is Decrease of Love and Infidelity. This may be traced back to Aisha, the favourite wife of the prophet Mohammed. He suspected her of unfaithfulness and asked the advice of the archangel Gabriel. On his return, Aisha greeted him with red roses and on the instructions of the archangel. He had ordered her to drop them into the river, knowing that if they changed colour, his suspicions would be confirmed – the roses turned yellow. So be careful which colours you choose!!

There is nothing to equal the scent of a rose, but it is Shakespeare who perfectly summarises the virtues of the rose:

O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give?
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem,
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye,
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly
When summers breath their masked buds discloses:
But for their virtue only is their show,
They lived unwoo’d, and unrespected fade,
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
Of their sweet deaths are sweet odours made,
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.

Sonnett LIV William Shakespeare 1564 – 1616

When you get your flowers home, you re-cut them under water, on an angle, put them into lukewarm water (remember to test it on your wrist, as if it were a baby bottle – just shake on a few drops), add the flower food, keep away from draughts, heating vents, and bright sunshine. You may top up the water each day, and they should last at least a week. When they start to fade re-cut them. A trick that people who show roses use is to plunge the stems into very hot water for the count of three – the heat will make the roses stand upright. When they are really on the way out, cut them short and float in a bowl of water.

A little poem to cheer you. It is called the Song of the Almond Blossom Fairy:

Joy! The Winter’s nearly gone! Soon will Spring come dancing on;
And, before her, here dance I, Pink like sunrise in the sky.
Other lovely things will follow; Soon will cuckoo come, and swallow;
Birds will sing and buds will burst, But the Almond is the first!

I hope that you are using your catalogues; do not toss them out without a thought. You can donate any that you do not want to your local library or horticultural society. They are full of very useful information, packed with information on the culture and care of vegetables, annuals, perennials, shrubs, trees and grasses. They also have the latest in pesticides, insecticides, fungicides, selective weed killers, most of these are non-toxic thankfully, as well as gadgets, tools, etc. A veritable feast for the gardener.

Many of you are thinking about starting your seeds – I would suggest that you try the Co-op. Rural Routes as it is called in Peterborough has just received a shipment of wonderful seeds as I told you last week. I understand that there are also many new plants to help these cold days pass by. Oh I was in Johnson's Greenhouse the other day and they have just a very few of those wonderful Orchid Cactus that I have been looking for - must try and get there on a day that isn’t too cold.

Back to the seeds. What do we plant when?? Carnations, pinks, edging lobelia, pansies, salvias should be sown as soon as possible. Asters, amaranthus, calliopsis, gallardia, larkspur, petunia, salpiglossis and verbena should be started before the end of March. You can wait until the first week in April until you plant Ageratum, calendula, cosmos, marigold, nicotiana, phlox, scabiosa and zinnias. I went into the basement yesterday and found that my geraniums were up about 6 inches, growing in the dark and the shoots were/are white, but a day under the lights upstairs and they are greening up already!! So check out any thing that you have put away for the winter.

When your seeds are large, they are more easily sown in drills in flats; when the seeds are small they should be sifted onto the surface of your growing medium and then covered with a light sprinkling of sand. By spreading the seed and avoiding overcrowding you will not only save seeds, but will help to prevent damping off. This is a serious fungus disease that attacks young seedlings.

Until the seeds germinate and sprouts show, the seed boxes should be kept moist (not wet) and shaded by sheets of newspaper. After the little leaves appear remove the paper and place the box in a bright window – not full sunshine yet. If the plants are too crowded, thin them out by pricking them off with a tooth pick.

Do not overlook starting annuals, they can be used as fillers in the garden, containers, window boxes and they are useful for cutting to bring into the house. They also provide colour and scent to the garden. As they only last a year, keep track as to what works, and then next time try something else. Annuals grow, flower and produce seed all in the same year – Mother Nature’s way of keeping the species alive and well – I told you that there is a lot of “sex” going on in the garden.

The Master gardeners have been busy this week talking about soil improvement – there is a general consensus that urine works very well for a number of things. It provides acid for acid loving plants, Rhodo’s and Azaleas in particular. When David and Nathaniel were small, I had them mark the area around my garden – it wasn’t trouble with critters, other than the neighbours dogs. Truth be told I still catch them at it – it is too far to go inside to the bathroom. How old are they?? 29 and 30!!!!! It works so do try it.

Speaking of acidic ground, many of you are struggling with that pretty azalea that was a gift a few weeks ago and now it is looking straggly and the leaves are yellowing – why?? Many of these plants have come from the south – even from Europe. They have been growing outside in peaty soil. Around the beginning of December they were uprooted and brought to Canada, where they were re-potted often having their roots trimmed way back. They retained enough strength to be able to hold onto their shiny leaves and even produce those beautiful flowers, now they are suffering.

As soon as the flowering is over and especially if they are dropping their leaves it is time to re-plant them. Take a larger container, add soil consisting of a mixture of one-half peat, one quarter sandy compost and the remainder rich loam. Add a pinch of aluminium sulphate to this mixture to help increase the acidity – this is necessary for your plant. Never let the plant dry out – a spray of water on the leaves will help them, do this as often as possible.

Around the 24th of May or as soon as all danger of frost is past – put the pot into the ground where it will get lots of sunshine, but out of the wind, make sure that you continue to water it frequently. In September, bring it back inside and it will bloom again. I leave mine outside under a cedar hedge and it does bloom outside toward the fall.

Voltaire said “Each one of us must cultivate a secret garden”. I love this story that he told:

In the village where I was born, there was an old gardener who was widely known as a hermit. I used to walk by the garden where the old man worked each day. I watched him inconspicuously. You must know what I mean, I would glance sideways like someone trying to see the answers on someone else’s copybook. My eyes would hurt with the strain. But despite my curiosity, I would always walk by as quickly as I could.
The children in the village all had tales to tell on his account. Some said that the old man was really an ogre others claimed that he was the reincarnation of Bluebeard, others thought that he was a blood thirsty bandit and thief.
None of us knew what was true, but we all agreed on one thing; the old gardener was a monster, a cannibal, someone to keep away from at all costs.
Still, I had never seen the old man being mean to any of us. One day I decided to take a closer look at him. This time I found a hiding place close to his tool shed at the back of his garden.
From my vantage point, I suddenly discovered a splendid garden filled with vegetables and flowers. Roses, tomatoes, marigolds, lettuce, pansies and cucumbers, combined to create a symphony of dazzling colour. There were flowers everywhere, carpets, of white, pink, purple along each row, tight woven bouquets that seemed to explode into multicoloured bunches. Climbing plants, embracing fences, heavy with white and violet flowers. It reminded me of my school yard: quiet, yet likely to erupt at any minute. Meanwhile the elderly gardener was working, cutting here, raking there. I could see his face and his speckled and wrinkled skin, much like an overdone pancake left to cool on a kitchen counter. His lips moved constantly as if he were conversing with himself. The more that I looked at him the less threatening he seemed to be.
How could a man who surrounded himself with so many flowers be truly dangerous?
His garden was not very big: soon he drew close to me, completely unaware of my presence. Distinctly I heard him speak He was speaking to his flowers! I turned away; eager to stifle my bubbling laughter. But the old gardener spotted me and quickly began rushing toward me. I stood stock still; my mind was filled with those horror stories. I expected the very worst, but the old man spoke to me softly.
“Well! It isn’t every day that someone comes to visit. Come in come in. You seem to like my garden. Don’t be afraid, I will give you a guided tour.”
He took me by the hand and I followed him willingly.
“You see those miniature suns, near the green beans, that’s camomile. This here is millefeuille, very good for soothing scratches and cuts. The flowers that you see over there are foxglove, majestic but sharp and ready to bite. Touch them with your eyes only, they can be poisonous!”
With all the innocence of childhood, I asked him the question I so longed to have answered;
“So after all you are not an ogre – am I right?” The old gardener simply smiled.
“Do you know why I love flowers so much? Because they are uncomplicated. You see, even if they could speak, they would not judge me. And if they had eyes they would see only an old gardener who loves them. A great many people should use them as a role model, don’t you think? A great many people say stupid and thoughtless things. A great many people should learn to keep quiet.”
Then he looked into my eyes, smiling and winked. “But you are not one of those people, I can see that in your eyes. You’re like me you love flowers too.”

Very soon it will be my birthday once again - when I was born and for number of years afterwards my sister brought me snowdrops. I am afraid that I will have to wait a few weeks yet. On my 16th birthday I met my favourite uncle in the market, upon hearing that it was my birthday, he purchased an armful of Mimosa for me - those wonderful fluffy yellow balls, I can still smell them - such happy memories.

Good gardening if it is only in the house, hats, gloves, warm clothes and sunscreen.

Lovingly, Beryl