Cosmos brings back a childhood memory. In fact, I think that seeing this flower was the first time I became aware of flowers as living entities. We did not have a garden, just a backyard. But my best friend was the baker’s son. They lived on the street corner and had a garden at the back of the bakery. Nothing grand – a few chickens and a small flower border at the foot outside stairs leading to the flour loft. And, there they were – a drift of dainty bright colours, floating over feathery foliage. We were given a packet of seeds – probably by Roger’s mother, Mrs Woolcott, who thought it might encourage this ragamuffin to take an interest. We carefully buried the seeds in an old disused sink under the apple tree. We covered them with what we called dirt – about six inches. A day later and nothing had happened, so we applied water which produced a grey-black soup. Over the following weeks my horticultural education seeped away, rather like the dilute mud through the plughole of the sink
The result of this sad but salutary experience? 70 years later, almost to the week I should think, I’m still surprised when my seeds germinate. And, excited, too! So, share my excitement and share my Cosmos. They are probably best planted in three’s or five’s – but I only have a dozen so be quick. A rather shorter blog today as there is much else to do.
But I cannot resist sharing with you my temperature reading with you. Not mine, exactly, rather the compost heap – and, bear in mind, that reading is in Celsius not Fahrenheit. Good compost is the powerhouse of the garden. Want to know the secret? Tune in again tomorrow …
Hold on – another telephone order has just come in. So that will be another three or five Cosmos spoken for. And, whilst we are on hold, just look at the Azalea (photo right) brought on by the rain. We need both, don’t we? Not just the sun, but the rain, too
Best wishes from the old Garden Codger