All is chaos and I kind of like it that way at the moment. The garden is at a tipping point whereby any moment now it’s going to flip from beautiful to drunk and disorderly planting.

And in the midst of all the planting misdemeanours are some very welcome  and very calm foliage plants like the ferns and fatsia.

Truth be told I’m a bit unconvinced by the latter and am trying to sell myself on the idea. having painted the tubs up and planted them with the variegated brutes it would seem a bit defeatist to admit they’re a bit, well, a bit “meh”

I shall persevere with the shady block at the back, despite the geranium overrun.

And hope for a wetter year next year to help build some colour to go with the annuals (begonias) in pots.

The new roses are lovely, but follow the sun so face towards the house and away from the lawn and swing seat behind. It’s a small point, but they’ll have to grow for a couple more years before we really get to see them above the lavender.

They’ve been underplanted with geranium rozanne which is also going to take a few years to get going.

Plus a few plants shoved in rather carelessly that have not worked especially well, some gladioli and a leftover salvia.

The silver leaf is a survivor from one of my disappointing baskets. If the plant shows some sticking power, I find it difficult to throw it away but of course it means a garden full of unruly thugs.

Thanks to some watering the baskets are definitely doing better the year, not beautiful but still alive at least. Best of all the tiny bed on top of the railway sleepers has also picked up.

Along with some overly planted pots. Thank goodness begonias are so forgiving.

This is the month that the penstemons come into their own, even the aptly named sour grapes.

And down on the side, the old roses are also doing well for having been cut and taken inside for flowers on a regular basis.

Some of the plants seem to have been flowering forever and are still full of joy.

The bees are happy and so am I with flowers everywhere and not too many weeds.

 

Up in the gravel, the story is all about flowering sedums of one sort or another.

Plus the indestructible fleabane. Because of the dry, I look set to lose a few plants, hopefully not too many.

But just as I think I’ve lost them, it rains and one pops up as a survivor.

One day maybe I’ll know what I’m supposed to do with all of this, but not quite yet.