Spring flower bouquets

I was trying to see if I could get away with calling this post May flower bouquets and hope you wouldn’t notice it is already well into June.

But I chickened out.

Spring bouquets it is. And surely you have had a surfeit of roses in jars by now.

The country may be in drought, but somehow the roses have done that thing of getting enough moisture and not being slammed by aphids or grubs.

So it’s a twice weekly walk to the neighbours dropping off bouquets. Even though Agnes’s garden is already awash with scented delights.

But I hate waste, and seeing all this gorgeous ‘produce’ going to the compost heap…

Even the accountant took possession of a mighty bouquet when I went down to deliver his cheque and basically fall at his feet in gratitude for the whopping 85 page tax declaration I had to do this year.

France in spring. Roses and taxes.

Here is a record of the one peony I actually saw in flower. I went to visit Sarah in Minneapolis for a week and it coincided exactly with the flowering season of my three peony plants. There is work to do there.

Luckily the cooler weather this past fortnight has meant the purple Hesperis matronalis is still just pickable. And I have just a few more alliums to add to bouquets.

The unwanted reeds that have settled into the water troughs make a good vertical accent. And it means I can get some enjoyment out of the strappy leaves before they form bulrushes, ripen and send a zillion seeds everywhere.

It felt good to finally relegate the dried flower arrangement of mimosa to the garden room and put something fresher in its place.

I am still struggling with the slightly dusty feel of an arrangement of dried flowers in a room. And believe me I have lots about.

There is something more fun looking at reeds and acanthus flowers and phlomis stalks in a huge vase in the living room.

I had to sear the ends of the acanthus for ten seconds in just boiled water to stop them doing their usual flop.

One week on and they are still a delight.

As is everything right now.

See once the dread tax work is over you have nothing better to do of an early morning than swan about with secateurs and a bucket of water and plonk things in vases and smile inanely at the displays.