lettuces on the radio

The lettuce farm had its moment of glory on national radio.  I flicked over to Radio 4 in the car yesterday and found I'd come in a third of the way through The Food Programme.  As it talked about some large polytunnels in Essex being used to grow lambs lettuce, I began to think that they must be referring to our neighbouring farm.  When they identified the company as Angflor and the customer as Florette I was almost certain, but discovered when I got home that the programme was not yet available on Listen Again for me to catch the first ten minutes.  This afternoon it was repeated, and as the MD was identified by name and the tunnels identified as being near Colchester, I knew it was indeed our lettuce farm.  Apparently human beings have cultivated lettuces for five thousand years, and the current rate of change in how we produce them is the most dramatic development in all of those five millennia.  I thought the MD had missed a trick not sending out an email to let people know that they were going to be on the radio, but since a lot of locals do not like the lettuce farm, maybe he prefers to keep a low profile and not remind us of their expansion plans.

I resumed gardening, since it was supposed to be less hot and humid than it was over the weekend. It still felt very sticky, though, and things seemed to take twice as long as normal.  I have wasted my money buying a packet of vine eyes to fasten the Pileostegia to the wall, which it needs because while capable of clinging on by itself, it got dislodged in the course of removing the Boston Ivy, and was only held upright by dint of being tied to the bottom of a stove pipe.  That still allowed too much play for the new growths to have any chance of sticking to the wall, and I thought that if I tied the main stem tight in to the brickwork, that would allow the side branches to get a grip and the Pileostegia could resume climbing normally again.  After banging away at the vine eye with a medium sized hammer for several minutes, I had made a small groove in the mortar approximately an eighth of an inch deep, and developed what felt like the first stages of vibration white finger.  It was a tribute to the bricklayers who built the house, but I had to go and ask the Systems Administrator to drive a screw in for me.

Pileostegia viburnoides is an evergreen hydrangea relative, with big, long, leathery leaves, and large, flat plates of small white flowers which are just developing now.  It is capable of covering a twenty foot wall in time, and has the useful climbing hydrangea property of tolerating an east or north wall.  It is known, however, for being slow to get going, and I have empirically demonstrated that it does not tolerate being over-run by Boston Ivy.  Mine suffered a lot of die back in its central parts where it was shaded, and is looking very sad.  I have been watering it occasionally when I'm passing with the hose to water the pots, and today I gave it a good sprinkle of blood, fish and bone. The leaves are not so large nor so dark green as they should be, and despite having freed it of the clutches of Parthenocissus tricuspidata last year, it is still signalling that it is not a happy plant.  I have read that they should be cosseted in their early years as much as if they were still growing in a pot, and this one has had a couple of cans of dilute seaweed fertiliser this year, but evidently that was not enough.  This plant is Pileostegia Mark II, since the first one did not succeed.

Sometimes it is worth trying again, when your first attempt to grow something has resulted only in its death.  In the back garden, Romneya coulteri Mark III is growing.  It has sent up strong, healthy stems taller than I am, at the ends of which are glistening white, poppy like flowers.  The plant has not yet begun to run about, which will be the final proof that it has established itself in the garden, but it is definitely growing and not just clinging on to life.  Tree poppies are notorious for being difficult to get going when planted out of pots, while paradoxically running like crazy if they do take, but even so I had sworn that three attempts was my limit.  I'm glad I made the third.

Addendum  The bargain Aldi cat food has met with a mixed response.  The short fat indignant tabby, who generally loathes change and is very suspicious of any deviation from her normal routine, really likes it, but her brother does not like it at all.  Though it is so very hot, I should probably hold off forming a judgement until more normal weather when they are hungrier.