Postponing Gratification

Typical. I'm having an economy drive after an excessively bloated Christmas, and what should come through the post today but the Bloms Bulb catalogue. I nearly threw it straight in the bin but had a quick perusal: fatal. The dahlias I've promised myself for this year are there, the enduringly popular Bishop of Llandaff, and the golden apricot David Howard, both with striking dark foliage. I'll wait a few months, 'appen, (sorry Derek Jacobi, but you know what a mimic I am) and buy them for spring planting. A few years ago we ordered a load of perennials for another garden from The Times, and accepted the special offer of 100 mixed dahlia tubers for £4. They were old stock some nursery wanted to get rid of I think. Being dahlia virgins we had no idea what to expect but planted the lot, and that summer had the biggest, brightest, most colourful beds imaginable. They were truly a source of continual delight and surprise.

Dahlias just starting to come out I think

Still on my economy drive I went into Fram this morning to check on a yoga class, and stopped off to get a replacement bulb for my car headlights. And what do you know? The pair had gone, offside and nearside. Inbuilt obsolescence working a treat then. I told the young man in the garage that I only had £20 with me (true: new resolution, leave cards at home), and he said that would be fine as the bulbs would be £8.25 each including VAT. So he was only going to take £3.50 for labour? Unbelievable. I returned ten minutes later to be told the cost was £10.75 as the bulbs were single not double filament. In the event he handed me back a £10 note. Couldn't be fiddling with change he said with a lovely smile. He's got my custom now. I shall be loyal to the death.

Chimonanthus Praecox

After a sudden heavy downpour the sun burst out from behind moody clouds and lit up my kitchen and front garden. It reminded me that I now have a name for the mystery yellow flowering shrub, whose petals seemed like newly-churned butter in the sudden glow. It's called Chimonanthus Praecox or Wintersweet, and has a sensational fragrance, sweet and spicy. The tree/shrub was listing badly and swinging about in the ground when I noticed it in the summer. Ugly leaves, no flowers or fruit, I didn't much like it and didn't know what it was. I got the fencing man to stake it anyway, and lo! see what has happened. It takes at least ten years to get to this stage apparently and is much prized in winter. Thank goodness I gave it a second chance.