May flower bouquets
You have caught me just heading outside. I’ve attached a new sticking plaster for the thumb (deep bramble laceration) and put cream on all the other minor abrasions (brambles, again). Hat is on. But so are two layers of cashmere. It’s still cool here in the mornings, but it promises to be a gorgeous day. A thunderstorm due late afternoon. That’s to be expected in this mad Spring of rain.
I’m going to get wet trousers on my round the mountain walk, but there is no strimming of the forest path today as it’s Sunday. It is on my list. But today is to be a day of peace and reflection instead. And I think it’s actually Mother’s Day here, so everyone will be at the family homes for lunch. They don’t need to hear a distant strimmer across the mountain disturbing the lavish feasting.
My reflection is how hilarious it is to try and grow Orlaya from seed. I have tried for many seasons.
But now I just accept that I can’t grow it in perfect controlled conditions…. but it comes up each year in the meadow beside the road on my walk.


So I do a sneaky harvest on my way past.



I should have lifted this vase into a more appropriate photographic position. White flowers on a white wall doesn’t show them off. But they are cheery blooms. And a perfect foil for the cotinus in the living room vases. Which were a bit monochrome. For me.

Actually I’m rather sheepish about just how many vases I have in our living room. It’s a glut. Thank goodness it’s a large room.

I still have the three giant displays I put up in December. If you have enormous high ceilings, why not go mad and shove half an olive tree in two pots?
And the dried flowers in the middle pot (Dahlia Sylvia, Lunaria, assorted other bits of long mess) hide the fact the two bookcases don’t quite align.

And I can’t quite retire the dried hydrangeas in the soup tureen…
Instead all the fresh displays are over on yet more bookcases and on the coffee table.

Yes, it’s rose season at last.
And sweet peas are being cut every day.
Every surface is littered with petals. They are so rain sodden that the vase life is minimal. But fun.
The Munstead wood roses hold up better, but of course the scent is not as powerful. And the one shrub I have needs more mates to make a good display. I get very few roses from the plant.
(All these vases are made my Hester Tjebbes. Aren’t they gorgeous?)
I just tuck the Gertrude Jekyll roses into the bouquets for the scent and hope the crush of other flowers hold them up.
The gladiolus are finally going over. There are still some Hesperis blooms. Taller and thinner now, but they have been marvellous when properly staked.
The alliums are just starting. And the jungle of cerinthe in the potager shows no sign of slowing down.
Thank goodness.
And there you have May. Lush, purples and blues.
… is that shot blurry or are my eyes going? I need to leave this screen and get walking.