The 'Magic Garden' killer

Over the weekend, another potted herb plant passed away under my (apparently negligent) care.

My green thumb only seems to operate sporadically, at best. By seem freak of chance the mint is plentiful and the rosemary is thriving, the chives continue to shoot skyward and the cat grass is well attended by the kitten (what other marker of success could there be for cat grass?). Yet the basil (who up until death received as much attention as all the other plants, I'll have you know I spread my negligence equally) rather suddenly shrivelled up and died.

I'm yet to try to grow flowers, unless you count a brief love affair with the science experiment-cum-educational toy, 'Magic Garden,' as a child [For all of you who just squealed/wet yourselves with nostalgic delight, you can relive the cherry blossom glory. Magic Garden is still around! You can buy it on the internet, here, and I'm guessing also at any kid-oriented science store].

Magic Garden was the ultimate in kitsch for the nineties child . You mixed water with crystals and poured the liquid over a cardboard tree, and a couple of hours later the cardboard branches would 'flower' (some brightly coloured powdery substance that clung to the branches, apparently non-toxic) and you would have a miniature cherry tree. All together kids, in hushed and reverent tones: 'Science'. Simple, you would think. Not for this Godzilla. I went storming in with my fat kiddy fingers and prodded the thing, and all the flowers fell off and disintegrated.

But I digress. This latest lamentable loss - what will lasagna or homemade pesto be without basil! - makes me think that now is not the time to upgrade to flower growing. I'm not sure where this potted philosophy stems from, but I've always thought that responsibility is best taken on in stages. The logic goes something like this...if I can keep pot plants alive, then I can have a pet. If I haven't killed the kitten in the next decade, then I might be an okay human-mother too. Flowering plants seem the next step up from pot plants. Unfortunately I seem to have gotten a little ahead of myself, having adopted a kitten when I am still not sure how it is that I am doing in the herbs. Watch out, pussycat.

Fortunately, my neighbours seem rather more adept at the whole gardening bit so you and I can get our flower fix this Spring by taking a peek at other people's blooming success (with not a trace of bitterness or garden envy)...

An entire wall of orange flowers. Rather greedy really. They've probably taken up the entire allowance of flowers per postcode. Clearly the reason that my plants are dying.

A bit flirty really, a splash of colour peeking over the fence. I bet they are hiding all of their best blooms on the inside.

One in three.

Hello, Spring!

Nothing says September 1 like the first blooms unfurling on stark branches in front of a clear blue sky.

'Poppies...poppies. Poppies will put them to sleep'

Today's blog comes from my bed, to which I have been ordered by the doctor (in the least fun way imaginable). It turns out a prognosis of suspected swine flu has its perks though, like these lovely flowers that my friends delivered before making a hasty exit for the company of someone less infectious.



Jonquils, lavendar, poppies.

'Where are the poppies', I hear you say? Well my friend, they are the ones that at this stage still look like - and I quote the kind givers of the bouquet here - 'hairy balls'. People can be a little hard on late bloomers.

I am quite content to wait for these hairy balls to develop into something prettier. That could have something to do with the limitations upon amusement during bed rest. Come back in a day or so for a picture of the poppies once they have popped, or read on for ways to keep flowers flowery. Meanwhile, I am going to wish for myself a Dorothy-style slumber. The Wicked Witch armed with opiates would trump swine flu, right?

Tips for making lovely blooms last longer...

1. Choose a vase: if you don't have a vase, large glass jars make a nice alternative, and can be prettied up by tying a ribbon around the neck, or wrapping decorative paper around the outside. Just make sure whatever you are using is clean.

2. Fill it up: half fill your chosen receptacle with lukewarm, rather than cold, water, as most flowers will find this easier to drink. If you have it (some florists provide a commercial mix with bouquets) add flower food as directed. Otherwise, make your own by dissolving a teaspoon of sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice to each litre of water. This mix will help to feed and preserve the flowers.

3. Prepare the flowers: remove any leaves from the lower part of the stems, as leaves immersed in water will rot quickly, contributing to the hastened demise of the flowers, a rather gut wrenching stench and an odd gooey substance that no one will want to clean from the vase.
Take a pair of super sharp scissors* and cut about 2 cm from the base of the stems, on a 45 degree angle. Think back to highschool biology - this creates a larger surface area for the take up of water. Once cut, get the flowers straight into the water.
*Blunt scissors can damage the stems and impede the take up of water to the blossoms.

4. Display: flowers like a cool space, out of direct sunlight and away from any heat sources. Although flowers and fruit might look sweet on the same table, avoid putting cut flowers near the fruit bowl. Flowers are aged quickly by the gas produced by ripening fruit.

5. Maintain: prolong the loveliness by changing the water completely every 2-3 days, or when it gets cloudy. If you have made your own flower food, the old water can be reused on your garden. While you have the flowers out, give the vase a clean, then repeat steps 2 and 3, taking particular care to remove dead or damaged petals and leaves. At the very end, wilted flowers can go into the compost.