Containers, planting up time!

What I like about containers is that when the rest of the garden looks tired or in a mess, I have my containers under control – weeded and watered, even in late August, but at the same time sporting a wild, exuberant look.

So, I’ve been planting up the four large stone bowls on the patio.  I love doing it,  I love the feel of the compost,  weedless and stoneless, as I add jelly granules to hold water and slow release fertilizer (‘wear gloves’ say instructions – what rubbish).  It’s like sifting flour.

The only trouble about newly planted pots is that they look so spotty and artificial.   I have Mr Fothergill’s stellar geraniums – Grandad Mac, Rookley and Robyn Hannah, all to flower in delicate salmon shades, and his fuchsias Shadow Dancer, and a silvery leaved trailing thing.   (Just looked them up to check on spelling and see to my annoyance that they are now half price).  They and I just sit there, feeling a bit new and solitary, like people at a party who don’t know anyone else.  I like containers tumbling, hiding the bowls – like this one a year or so back.  Oh well.   Soon they will all be friends.