Managing santolina shrubs

I do apologize for the delay with today’s news.  You guessed it. Busy fretting and reading every report going about Britain’s political woes.

And having so many mates who are still hard-bitten journos means I am loyal to them and their thoughts. And every man and his dog has an opinion right now. Which I feel compelled to read.

I ought to turn off Facebook and come back in a week’s time.  So with that good intention rattling in my brain, off we go.

Tough love. Lose the flowers and keep the plant. We are back to a garden blog today. And I fear, no flowers. But a brief glimpse of cat.

Well, fleeting flowers. You see these shrubs are the backbone of my planting scheme in a large part of my garden.  They link all the small narrow terraces that creep up the mountain.

I have three plants given me by Andrew. And all the rest are grown from cuttings.

They are brilliant plants. Cold and drought tolerant and pleasing in both pale and the bright green of primrose gem.

But their growth is so spectacular that by the end of June they are all in danger of flopping.

So you have to be mean and cut back about fifteen centimetres (eight inches or so) of growth. And that means sacrificing the gorgeous little button flowers.

Well, I always manage to miss a few, so some remain. But I have to make sure I don’t lose the whole plant to this growth.

What amazes me about this growth is the fact I tried an experiment back in May (or was it the end of April?). I knew this moment would come when the santolinas would get top-heavy, so I went for the Chelsea Chop. The trick of cutting back herbaceous perennials around the time of the Chelsea Flower Show around the 20th of May.  That way the growth is restricted and many things flower later.

This is perfect for sedums when they grow in rich soil for example; less flopping.

But I know I cut back the shrubs on the steps of the barn garden. Really waded in and took off a lot of growth. And you can’t see the difference. So it looks like I wasted an afternoon of my time back then fooled into thinking I had the upper hand.

Santolinas (you might know them as Cotton Lavender) just grow.

Some are better on the flat, but as mine are all grown on a slope, they tend to get top heavy and droop.

The only exception is when I can grow my santolina through sturdy plants.  The trick is not to have the santolina smother anything delicate. And believe me, at this time of year, Artur would be lost in a plant and never emerge.  But actually he doesn’t fancy the smell.

Strong purple sage can tough it out against the santolina. But I can’t tell you how many delicate French lavenders have disappeared under the double onslaught of santolina and nepeta.

I took my eye off this amazing barn garden for about two years as it all looked so stunning. From a distance.  But up close things were fighting each other for the limited room.

The prostrate rosemary really took off and engulfed things.  The ridiculously Barbara Cartland pink cistus (what was I thinking?) filled out too well and I lost a few good lavenders in front.

I can see already some iris and sedums that are going to have to come out next month as they are way too shady.

And this is an open sunny site full of brilliant mediterranean plants.

If I can catch these plants now and cut them hard, they will look, frankly, dreadful for about two to three weeks. But then I get to enjoy them for the rest of the year without averting my eyes and reaching for the secateurs which live permanently in my back pocket.