How to take the bull by the thorns and hope Madame Louis recovers from shock

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ENDING the rules in the garden can be a risky business . . . but you may be lucky and get away with it.

I’m hoping luck stays on my side after I performed the unthinkable and replanted a rose bush in mid-June.

The variety – a lovely fragrant, crimson 1952-bred golden oldie called Madame Louis Laperrière – was among the front runners to bloom in my garden this summer, but then it began to sulk, look a little sickly and produced no further buds.

The reason – it was becoming swamped and shaded by a genista, or broom, on one side, and by the tall hybrid tea rose Especially for You on the other.

My fault entirely for siting it where it was and not thinking ahead!

So this week I took the bull by the thorns, dug it up and rehomed it 4ft away where it will enjoy full sun for several hours daily and have room to expand.

At least that’s my fervent hope. Because the soil was dry, much of it was crumbly, so exposing the rose’s roots during its upheaval couldn’t have been avoided. And that, of course, will have further reduced the plant’s chances of a full recovery.

Remaining in optimistic mode, I placed it carefully in its new hole which was laced with stable manure and some gritty compost and duly filled it in.

So far so good! The fresh new shoot which bore a bud initially drooped a little but has now revived, no doubt thanks to three or four copious waterings and a few trugfuls of hope.

Here’s hoping Madame Louis lives to bloom another day.

Staying conveniently with roses, I’ve been sent details of new shrubs marketed by international seed and plant empire Thompson & Morgan.

Among the 2024 debutantes is Scentifall Yellow, a hardy shrub rose specially bred for containers and baskets.

T & M hail the rose’s “wonderful citrus fragrance and trailing habit.” The recommendation is to grow it in patio pots, hanging baskets or at the front of the border.

The pretty lemon-yellow, sometimes near-white, fully double blooms repeat-flower throughout the summer, it’s got high disease-resistance and forms mounds of small, dark green leaves.

And, maybe best of all, this petite charmer, with a height and spread of 24in, is thornless or near-thornless which is good news when it’s time to prune or water and you forget the gloves.

Just enough space to reveal another of T & M’s newbie shrubs – the world’s first patio buddleia with normal size flowers but on plants half the size.

► Top – Golden oldie Madame Louis Laperriere before its transplant; centre – new rose Scentifall Yellow; above – buzzing with colour from the new buddleia Buzz Collection.

Always remember to feed and water container-grown buddleias regularly, whereas those planted directly into the border will demand only occasional attention.

Buddleia Buzz Collection consists of Buzz Indigo in deep blue, Buzz Ivory with white flowers and Buzz Lavender in violet-lavender, all three with orange eyes.

In spring prune plants back to a permanent low framework of three or four buds from the base. Deadhead faded blooms to prolong bloom production.

► http://www.thompsonmorgan.com

Electric blue beauties from the Himalayas will leave you bewitched – but good luck!

MEMORIES OF AZURE FLOWER BEDS IN NORTHERN SCOTLAND

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 IME doesn’t half gallop along as you get older and when you’re enjoying life. With this in mind, I find it hard to believe almost exactly 20 years have passed since I explored the dramatic coastal far north of Scotland.

Memorable sights there were in plenty – lofty mountains, dramatic cliffs, brooding moors,  kilts and sporrans, a plateful of haggis, towns called Thurso, Wick, Durness, Ullapool and, of course, John O’Groats . . . 

. . . and gardens exploding with the electric azure shades of classic Himalayan blue poppies.

They grow these eye-widening superstars rather well in the top half of Scotland, as I discovered during a week-long, somewhat damp June safari with an old friend while our wives were sunning themselves in Majorca.

One of the high-spots of the tour was a meander around the Scottish National Trust’s wonderful award-winning lochside garden, Inverewe, which bursts with colour and scents – and boasts a huge collection of blue poppies, botanically Meconopsis baileyi, as well as being home to towering Californian redwood trees.

Not far behind in terms of memorable moments was the Castle of Mey gardens in Caithness, home of the Queen Mother and, like Inverewe, extremely blue from those poppies.

Yet the sight which mesmerised me the most was a modest garden border at one of our one-night B & Bs. This relatively short strip was packed like a botanical treasure chest with The Blues, an overwhelming blanket of pure, piercing-blue beauty, the likes of which I’d never seen before.

I took a long, lingering look and said to myself: How on earth do the Scots grow ‘em as successfully as Southerners grow petunias?

Answer: Meconopsis hail from the mountains, so relish cool, damp places, high humidity and hate dry feet. It’s perfect Scots fare!

Their colour is like no other flower. So it’s no surprise they prompt a vast following in similar vein to snowdrop or rose aficionados.

Meconopsis, though, are in a different league. Their big, shiny azure blooms which open from brown, hairy buds, are further enhanced by a central nest of golden stamens.

I won’t disguise the fact that blue poppies are something of a challenge to bring on for the three or four years of their all-too-brief lives – unless conditions equate to meconopsis utopia which is principally a cool spot and out of the constant glare of the sun.

As well as baileyi, the two other best blues are Meconopsis grandis and sheldonii – and all have earned the RHS Award of Garden Merit gong, all reach between 3ft and 5ft and all with flowers measuring 4in to 6in across. Watch out, too, for two other superb forms in the shape of Slieve Donard and the even taller Branklyn which soars to 6ft and is named after a garden in Perth, Scotland, where it was discovered.

Add to that Meconopsis Lingholm, one of a few varieties to produce fertile seeds, Barney’s Blue which initially bears attractive pink-purple flowers that gradually change to a striking pure blue on stems 4ft high.

■ Bewitching blue – and purple – poppies: Top – Meconopsis Barney’s Blue and Hensol Violet make a stunning duo; centre – my success with growing Meconopsis baileyi a few years ago; above – another shot of Hensol Violet in flower and bud cluster.

I must also include Hensol Violet, a variant introduced a few years ago by seed specialists Thompson & Morgan which diverts from true blue to intense purple and which quickly became a collector’s must-have.

With due care, baileyi and its hybrids can be coaxed into annual flowering, though failure rates are known to be high – myself included – much to growers’ chagrin.

To sum up for the best chance of success:

■ Acid soil, like that enjoyed by rhododendrons, will produce the most intense colours.

■ Seed sowing is, surprisingly, easy and should be done in gritty compost in June or July. If you need to store the seeds pop them in the fridge.

■ Sow thinly, otherwise seedlings are prone to collapse and die if overcrowded.

■ A cool, shady spot sheltered from strong winds suits them best. Staking for loftier plants may be advisable.

■ Water frequently in hot, dry weather and feed in February and June with a balanced fertiliser.

■ Do remember – blue poppies and traditional poppies (papaver) may be related but their needs are quite different. The blues flourish in shade, while their cousins adore as much sun as you can offer them.

Cranesbills are cracking plants but you’ll need to linger long over a challenging choice

CRANESBILL NURSERY is in celebratory mood as it digs up its own piece of history – a ruby anniversary catalogue in praise of that diverse and versatile flower, the hardy geranium.

Not that Cranesbill has been in the same spot for 40 years, nor has its current owner, Gary Carroll, been at the helm for this length of time.
In fact, it uprooted from Redditch, Worcestershire, where it had germinated in 1984, to Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, in 2011 and finally to Walsall in 2016 when Gary took over the botanical tiller.
Gary, who once worked as a gardener for the National Trust at Moseley Old Hall, Wolverhampton – a small 17th century farmhouse – has produced yet another high-quality handbook listing 120 species and varieties and is at pains to let it be known there are more listings on the website (cranesbillnursery.com).

So what are hardy geraniums? Not to be confused with their close but tender relatives, pelargoniums – which are invariably dubbed geraniums anyway – the hardies are strictly cranesbills, hence the title of Gary’s nursery.
They are essentially a grow-anywhere hardy perennial, blooming in spring, summer or autumn – sometimes in all three seasons – depending on variety, happy in full sun or part-shade, unfussy, tough as a rhino’s hide and relishing life in any type of soil, provided you give it decent drainage.
Furthermore, many have attractive foliage, some assuming rich or contrasting autumn tints, while others bear shiny leaves, some bronzy purple, velvety or deep-cut. Now these are cracking credentials!

But it’s the flowers that tend to send geranium fanatics into a spin.
Colours range from pure white to vibrant magenta as well as pinks, purples, near-blues, lilacs and shades so deep they appear almost black.
A random selection of Cranesbill’s photos gives a clear indication of these plants’ beauty. As catalogue browsers will see, many varieties boast delicate and intricate veining along the petals, while others have jet-black eyes or paler centres.
Take note too of varieties labelled RHS Award of Garden Merit for all-round excellence. At a flat rate of £11.25 per plant, including these award-winners, and destined to last for years, this represents sterling value.

Do remember that geraniums seldom top 18in, though a handful have height on their side, such as Splish Splash, Raven and the globally-famed and sun-loving Rozanne (24in), while Geranium psilostemon almost kisses the clouds at 4ft, with a sizeable 3ft spread.
Chiefly, though, the cranesbills stay close to soil level and some are classed as ground huggers. One, which I picked at random, is Geranium sanguineum striatum with large, ruffled marshmallow-pink blooms with fine red lines, no more than 8in from the ground and a generous flowering span of May to September.
Intriguingly, they grow freely on Walney Island off the Lancashire coast.
A handy hint is to dead-head the flowers as and when they fade to prompt the emergence of additional blooms as the seasons progress.

► Cranesbills, coats of many colours: From top – Blushing Turtle, the bizarre-looking Catherine Deneuve (left) and Czakor with elegant anthers, the hugely popular Rozanne and Inverness, Derrick Cook and Geranium striatum, and the pink double flowers like fairies’ hats of Southcombe Double, below – the new catalogue. Pictures courtesy of Cranesbill Nursery

Dig up and divide established clumps in autumn and replant in sun or semi-shade – not deep shade as that could lead to a spread of mildew. A handful of bonemeal per plant will be appreciated at the same time.
If there’s one cautionary note, it’s simply that the choice of varieties is so vast you may lapse into a state of cranesbill confusion.
Still, the upside is it’s not a bad way to get confused!
► www.cranesbillnursery.com / email gary@cranesbillnursery.com / tel 01684 770733.