Yes this is a lazy blogging week but sesst lar vee since no other bitch is going to come and stack 6m of firewood for us. Real world shit needs to get done. We've had a stretch of very hot nor-westy weather which makes me cranky so it's a fucking miracle I'm posting at all. Above: all our hydrangeas are nameless ferals grown from cuttings yoinked at felonious random from elsewhere. They all turn out to be blandly candy pink like this guy; the punishment fits the crime. Clockwise from above left: Gladiolus. I'm getting back into glads which is something that seems to happen to old people. Hats off to their breeders, though, because there are some fucking stunning cultivars kicking around. Jury Hybrid Dahlias. I like to buy their unnamed selections because they're cheap and usually just as nice as their official releases. Rose Graham Thomas. Everyone is like oh it's a blackspot monster and I was all like whatever and then it broke out in purple blotches and shit itself. It re-leafs promptly, though, and who could stay mad at this sort of thing? Unknown highly fabulous mauve dahlia with gold centre that I call Sir Gaylord in my mind. Mmmmm dahlias. R is responsible for most if not all of these images. Above is a fantastic close-up of one of the pinkish slightly fancy calendulas I grew from seed. Hope these guys persist and naturalise. Below: Lavateras. Spanky new Clock Cicada on a budding glad. It's slightly out of focus on the cicada and R is a pedant who loses his mind over shit like that. I think this image fulfils some more important obligations so I posted it anyway, in the passive aggressive manner. Rose Golden Wing, which is sometimes golden, sometimes richly ivory and sometimes almost white, depending on its mood. There is a luxurious clove/spice scent that becomes more pronounced each year but is similarly capricious, floating about promiscuously on a still day and then retreating right into the stamens next time. Banksia ericafolia (I think). Rose Jacqueline du Pré which is getting fried by the nasty sun at the moment. Plant it in afternoon shade if you have the option. Above: Balloon flower, Platycodon grandifloras, which lives up to its name by puffing itself into a ball as a bud before opening up like this. Cool little plant for an awkward spot. Agastache is bumblebee crack and we go up into the top garden to find these self-seeded plants heaving with frantic bees and mimics of all descriptions crawling over one another trying to score the good shit. Gladioli Black Star. And last but not least, the very first flowers on one of my Paramount Hybrid Echinopsis. I'm not sure of the exact cultivar but they are all stupidly spectacular and this image does nothing to exaggerate those incredible qualities. The blooms are as large as my outstretched hand, mesmerisingly beautiful and well worth the I think 4 year wait. It was previously underpotted and slightly too shaded to flower, but a change of address to the sunny teahouse was the shot in the arse that it obviously needed. Although the camera is rendering this bloom's clean, almost self-coloured hue as something approaching a white-to-amber gradient, this first ever flower from my small Lady Hillingdon is in fact a smooth, pastel, dreamlike apricot with only minimal fading toward the edges of the petals. Oh well. You get the idea. The small graft has struggled in a dog position and the delicious quality of this flower reminds me to move the damn thing before it ends it all in a fit of pique. The scent is strange, that sort of hardcore skunky tea with suggestions of cracked flint, iodine and green pond shadow lurking under dusty blonde wood and faint, cursory powder. I've seen larger plants; the foliage often seems a bit sparse but the overall effect in flower is gloriously regal. * Our Photography * Photoessays * Kitchen Bitch * Our Garden *Heading into our third week of total cloud/drizzle. Dimly remember sky-thing. Maybe... blue. Since I'm particularly inarticulate at the moment and really fucking depressed/enraged about the TPP signing, here are some recent images from the garden, from back when sun happened and in our current bullshit situation. It's either that or radicalisation. Just kidding. No I'm not. Gallica Rose La Belle Sultane. Giant Red Clover. Rosa Mundi Tetra Asiastic Lily Sweet Surrender, another tetra that I cannot remember the name of, Rose Ferdinand Pichard Hybrid Perpetual Rose Alfred Colomb + Sweet Surrender lily, HP Rose Sophie's Perpetual, Martagon Lily (I think this is Early Bird) Kalmia (in someone else's garden), Lilium henryii Sunstrike, Ligularia flower, Lilium Sunstrike. * We've got a lot of garden- check it out * Selected Ravings * Read the Book onsite *You can view the first part of this series H E R E. We went a bit north from Granity to Gentle Annie beach, at the mouth of the Mokihinui river. This incredibly beautiful and ecologically important watercourse was earmarked to be dammed by fucking Meridian Energy despite NZ's perennial electricity glut. Still think New Zealand's clean and green? 100% Pure my shiny arse. The NZ government was proposing to inundate one of the few remaining areas of unfucked native forest and last-stand habitat that had survived its attentions with a dam that might as well have straddled the Alpine Fault, a massive strike-slip fault line overdue for an epic 8+ earthquake. So stewardship. Much conservation.
Hamish: beach snorter. My mother's bichon x maltese x schnauzer. There's a nicely-laid out camping ground on the other side of the river mouth. I commend Gentle Annie to the fiscally challenged, spawn-encumbered traveller and that's a disinterested recommendation; as someone who spent half their childhood in the wilds of northern Australia, I do not camp unless someone burns my fucking house down.
Bovidae: something else that I could photograph all day. This is the first crop of calves my sister has raised for sale. Cows are strange, mercurial beasts, gifted with the sort of prudence most hominids can only dream of (someone should put them in charge of the banking sector) and yet hostage to an insatiable and perverse curiosity (alright so maybe the finance thing was a bad idea). We have tremendous respect and affection for them though we occasionally eat of their flesh; they are one of the more fortunate species in the New Zealand farming system, being almost exclusively free-range and mostly grass fed. So don't let anti-meat hysterics tar your perception with accounts of American-style feedlot/cornfed/hormone horrors. Most beef cows here spend their lives fairly peacefully in decent conditions and that, to me, forms the basis of the equity that should underpin all domestic husbandry. Dairy cows are perhaps not as fortunate and that is why we drink organic milk where humanly possible- their co ops tend to prioritise animal welfare as well as minimising their wider environmental impacts. Across the road from my sister's place is the steep haul up to dozy, depopulated Millerton and the foredoomed Stockton coal mine, where her partner and much of the surrounding region is still tenuously employed. It is scheduled for sale/closure due to the collapse of Solid Energy, the government's coal concern, lately run into the ground by crackhead overcapitalisation and a staggeringly moronic inability to accept fossil fuel's inevitable relegation. This is the view north from the top of the hill, one of two I couldn't decide between so you're getting both. It was a stinking hot day, I had a cold, we couldn't find the path to the local alleged spectacular waterfall and the tar from the abandoned roads we were slogging up and down was sticking to my two-sizes too small borrowed Crocs, which should have been punishment enough in themselves.
The New Zealand bush is noted for its disorientating and somewhat nightmarish qualities. It tends to be opaque, remote, inedible, damp, trackless, endlessly river-y and either too hot or too cold for comfort. I know I bang on about it, but the number of visiting and even local trampers who end up as either galaxid or nothofagus food is a bit disturbing. Even to a dedicated misanthropist? We have to pay for your search and rescue fuckery. There, fixed it. Next time: We walk the Charming Creek track end to end, which is fantastic. * View the first part of this series here * View the third part here (soon) * Other photoessays *
Strawberry Hill's scent is an onomatopoeic version of its candy colour ; a fat-fisted face-punch of sweet myrrh and melty almond nougat. 8/10. * More vegetal beauty * Roses * Selected Ravings *
* More nice things in our Garden * Best of the Blog *David Austin rose Lady of Megginch. That's her on the left. Though it's frequently described/sold as a red, it is not. It is in fact a deep fuchsia with slightly silvered outer petals, the colour almost in the Bourbon style as far as this rich, saturated pink is concerned. For me after a year and a half as a grafted plant, she is low and slightly tentacular in that tall canes are emerging from a squat shrubby foundation and her bloom has good upright Hybrid Tea sort of form and really decent rain resistance. These pictures are quite accurate on my monitor. Not as fragrant as I had hoped from something with this sort of colouration, although I have found some roses take a couple of seasons for their perfume to really emerge so I'm withholding judgement. Currently I'd describe it as a low-medium tearose scent with a hint of dusty fruit, about 4/10. Darcey Bussell, also a DA job. No complaints about the vigour of this nice little doer; in half a year it's gone from a slightly wimpy graft to a prolific competitor to a too-close and fucking monstrous Golden Celebration. The small galaxy of close-set buds have started popping to reveal flattened and button-eyed blooms in this deep, dark dimensional magenta purple which is very Old Garden Rose to my eye; images above use natural indoor daylight while below is obviously on the bush in some morning shade. There is some scent- warm, slightly plasticky fruit, which I'd rate around 5/10. But it's a nicer plant than the sum of its parts. * Flora * Read the Book onsite * Selected Ravings * Kitchen Bitch *We document the usual xmas dwarf cacti explosion and a few choice aloe flowers for your delectation.
Below left: Sulcorebutia Krainziana orange form Lobvia ancistrophora buds Above left: Sulcorebutia candidae Above right: Echinocereus sp. Or could be a Rebutia hybrid. Below: Rebutia pygmaea (or heliosa): many subtle charms. Euphorbia horrida hybrid Below Sulcorebutia pasopayana * More of our succulent friends here * From our half acre garden * Flora *Last of the first round of Princess Victoria Louise (?) oriental poppies; they were especially vivid this year, perhaps because of the cooler temperatures. Thought I'd try and make something of it. * See more of our photography here * Nice stuff from other people *I bought a lot of new roses over winter and have been obsessing over their first flowers for some time.I'll post some more of the new guys when they get going. And that's not to say we don't appreciate the older soldiers. A cold windy el Niño spring has meant some blind buds here and there but overall the flower load has been satisfactory. Both the Lovely R and I took these recent shots for your delectation. Arum lilies / Mary Rose (David Austin) - Splendid, enthusiastic and underrated. Unknown blue clematis x in MIL's Christchurch garden / rose Ellen (DA) Rugosa rose Martin Frobisher- new but coming along nicely, shapely frame, elegant foliage, a tidy rice-white bloom and modest clovey scent. unknown rhododendron in the front yard / rose Agnes (rugosa) / iris / Rose du Rescht Nectaroscordum siculum Sicilian honey garlic flower detail- a fabulous no-bullshit allium and the only one to come back consistently for me / white clover detail. DA rose The Endeavour / rose Royden (local HT) / DA rose Glamis Castle (DA) (a bit spindly but sublime flowers and massive myrrh scent) / rose Sally Holmes (uncomplaining and prolific) Rugosa rose Rugspin - the very first flower on this young plant. Stunning imperial crimson and lovely pale golden anthers; there is a fresh-ground clove scent and the bush is doing well in half shade despite a hideous aphid burden. * Our Garden * Flora * Hostile Witness Film Review * Read the Book onsite *I'm bored with words, we're both real-world busy and plus we've taken a fucktonne of photos in the garden so that's what you're getting this week- flowers on mute. Well as mute as I ever am. It's what you get every fucking spring, I know, but I think if 2015 has taught us anything, it's that there are worse things so you'll just have to deal with it. The Lovely R's been getting all his dodgy old lenses out and wanking on about the various properties of this one versus that, but I just nod and shut my ears because my thirst for knowledge knows no bounds.
Were we the only goths who rolled to NWA in '90? Back in the day we used to battle this shit out conversationally, walking down the street dressed like the whitest undead freaks ever, flipping off carloads of rednecks and confusing the hell out of standard-issue passers by. Yeah I'm a gangster but still I got flava :) I shouted my nephew to Yella's show in Christchurch the other weekend for his birthday; the circle is complete. I'm so fucking old : / Natural light, no photoshopping and very representative on my monitor. Clockwise from top left: Grace, Ellen, Crown Princess Margareta, Ambridge Rose. This Ambridge bloom is a little tired but still comes out swinging as the hands-down winner of the scent challenge with the most beautiful and complex myrrh I've ever encountered- even if you generally dislike that note, the intense bonus mix of fruit and powder make it worth your attention. Ellen runs second with great big soapy fruit and petitgrain- these first two are must-haves for scent queens. Crown P is all low dusty fruit with a hint of peat and an odd sort of pea-green element, and Grace exhibits modest smoky tea-type notes. All but Ellen are new in my garden this year and doing well. The first three listed are all similarly large, thick-petalled and rain-resistant once fully open (the Crown P is still only half-out here) with Ellen possibly taking the heavyweight title, whilst the Ambridge is smaller, more tissue-y and delicate. It might just be that I'm a bossy nightmare, but I often feel that R doesn't recognise his best shots and that he focusses too hard on technical capture. I think he nailed this. Sometimes awesomeness is undisciplined and preposterous.
* Our Garden * Selected Ravings * Read the Book onsite * Kitchen Bitch *
Another notable emergence is the full-banana version of Brugmansia sanguina, the Red Angel's Trumpet (below) that we are lucky enough to be able to grow here. I took a root cutting from the backyard of a flat we were renovating for someone and this is the first decent flower.
* Read the Book onsite. I command thee * Selected Ravings * R's Blog *
Spring in New Zealand is usually either just premature summer or a dreary winter smoker's cough i.e. climatically it doesn't really have a discrete, defined personality. But since green and pastels still predominate, it's probably the only time of year our garden looks remotely ordered or tasteful; by midsummer you can see just how fucking vulgar things horticultural can get when left to a plant-hoarding freak with no money for polite infrastructure and a total disregard for harmony and proportion. Disorder is invigorating, and I'd rather please the plant than lose sleep over orange next to pink. This year the roses are late getting started (it's Halloween and the Rugosas are only just peeping out of their cowls) but the douchebag aphids are already out in force. Below: Rose Summer Song. A lot of people are hating on this DA rose; I can't find too much to complain about personally. It has a willowy serpentine charm with bronzy-golden tones in its foliage and of course those gobsmacking blooms. Below that: Rose Simply Sensational which sort of lives up to its name if you don't mind waiting a long time between (the admittedly magnificent) flushes. Below: Rosa rugosa scabrosa, a hideous name for a singularly beautiful and charismatic plant with silky magenta blooms that smell of cloves and vintage beauty powder. Compared to our Michelia doltsopa, that glorious queen of the weird-smelling trees, M. figo is pretty low-end, exhaling a modest dose of rubbed fig, half-strength classic magnolia, chopped cucumber and champa incense dust. Try not hacking poor figo into hedge- it's a graceful little tree if left to its own devices. Above Left: rose Royden, a few days out from showtime. God I love this rose; it may be a fairly parochial NZ cultivar but if you ever see it for sale, buy the whole darn crate. Below Clematis Guernsey Cream. A young plant. Some tend to dispute the much-vaunted greenish hue but I think this pic shows it's definitely present, particularly in shade. Below: Malus. If you've ever tried to photograph the dappled luminosity of apple blossom, you'll know it's a difficult subject despite the obvious visual appeal. We have three apples (I think this is 'Discovery'), all of which flower away crazily and largely defy R's attempts to memorialise them. I think he did well here. Above: Arctotis daisy. This shot is particularly magnificent in large format, and especially impressive given that it's basically straight out of the camera. Below Right: Federation daisy Below Left: Erysimum yellow wallflower. Below: Thrift, Armeria marítima Below that: Kerria japonica pleniflora * Plants- less annoying than people. See more here * Our Cacti & Aloes * Kitchen Bitch *From our upper garden: bergenia cordifolia & fairy bamboo bambusa gracilis / golden acanthus acanthus mollis / green protea / cavalo nero / euphorbia / emergent phlox / bergenia & bamboo II / echium fatuosum pics - me breakfast / dick's garden / oak shadow / gulls / dick's garden detail / camellia / golf course credits: mostly me 'cept camellia- the lovely R Hate golf courses* *except at night * More of our images * Photoessay * Selected Ravings * Read the Book onsite *On the hill overlooking Back Beach and the middle harbour, facing toward a distant Taiaroa Head, which is the small eminence in the distance behind the cargo warehouse to the left there. The track to the far right hairpins down to the beach and is part of our No. 3 walk. Going down it, cool; coming up- not so much. We did this loop on Sunday. 17ºC in the middle of winter lol. No, that's not normal but what the hell is these days? Do you have a garden? I've never been without one, except for a period of upstairs flatting in central Christchurch. It's been dry and mild for a week or so now and we've had our arses in the air developing one of the feral sections of our current garden, basically a small wilderness of blackberry, broome and elephant weed. It's the last place left on our land that's sunny enough for roses, below and to the west of the section in the pic below. Construction helps keep depression off my fucking back in winter and if that's you too, I highly recommend it as a therapeutic measure. I'll post some pics when things are starting to look more like a garden and less like a tar pit. The sun's just starting to get back into the top of our hillside now after reaching its nadir. ^ This is my favourite Cabbage Tree Cordyline australis specimen; it's a very truffula-esque guy with a great beard of dead leaves. To the right is a Cordyline Green Goddess with its broader, more upright leaves and slightly different habit. It's a difficult cultivar that likes to shit itself and die at the slightest provocation even here in its native New Zealand, so don't feel too bad if you've killed a few. In the mid ground you can see a Magnolia x Shiraz budding up and some Arrow Bamboo Pseudosasa japonica. This is one of my personal favourites due to its quick growth and elegant leafage. It doesn't really run here, even though we're Zone 9 and well-watered, happier to clump and just expand in a polite manner, usually toward the sun. I'm probably boring you stupid with this reportage so let me spice shit up in here. Stagger Lee: those degenerate go go boys put hearts in my eyes. Every damn time. I'll try and get to finishing the second part of the West Coast trip series this week. |
Independent Creativity
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