Gentian Diana from Spalding Bulbs

Part of the agreement with Spalding Plant and Bulb Company for having their logo on here is that I will review some of their plants from time to time.   Someone from their blogger club sent me an electronic catalogue of plants and said I could choose one for free as long as I wrote about it.  I chose a Gentian Diana for its striking blue flowers and also because I killed one of my own last year and fancied having another go.  Gentians are perennials and of course are dormant at the moment.  It's quite hard to review a plant that arrives looking dead but of course it isn't and the roots are nice and healthy so I'll do what I can to share the experience so far.

The Gentian arrived securely packaged in a kind of green plastic bubble wrapped around with brown paper and then a box so large that my colleagues presumed I had arranged for a sofa to be delivered to the office.  This is the same as my other experiences with mail order plants and although the packaging can seem over-zealous at times, I presume these people know what they are doing.

Gentian in a green plastic bubble

The gentian was completely unscathed when unwrapped.

Gentian survivor of the Christmas mail

There was a label enclosed in fourteen different languages which implies this is a truly international plant; however all this does say is that the plant is dormant and therefore in the best state to go in the post.  This variety of nationalities suggests to me it could thrive in a whole host of different habitats but this information wasn't enclosed and I couldn't find it on line.


Unidentified languages included with this gentian


There were a whole load of vouchers and plant catalogues enclosed and an offer of a free hardy palm with any order.  Offers of free plants are like a red rag to a bull to a plantaholic like me although goodness where I would put a hardy palm which apparently can grow to twelve metres.  I was about to write that I already have eighteen sweet peas on the go for next year and nowhere to put them but then I told myself off for exaggerating as there was no way I had that many.  I then went out and counted them and there are twenty five.  (If anyone is passing in spring and would like a few sweet peas you are welcome.)   Anyway, this new relationship with Spalding Bulbs could lead to dangerous new levels of plant collection.

There was nothing in the way of care instructions which I would have appreciated.  I had to look this up online but that's not a huge problem and the care instructions are also available on the website.  I do like to keep plant labels though, for future reference.  The website says that Gentian Diana prefers acid soil but a novice like me could have done with the word ERICACEOUS compost spelled out in big red letters.  I made the mistake of ignoring that advice on the last gentian I bought.  I read today that 'normal' compost makes acid lovers go yellow and die which is exactly what the last one did.  As I am now responsible for reviewing this plant I felt I should give it every opportunity to stay alive and so I got a scoopful of the right compost from my neighbour (thanks Tracy), potted it on and wrapped it in a nice fleece as it was freezing outside.



Gentian Diana snug in its fleece


Spalding Plant and Bulbs say that their plants come with a one to five year guarantee but I couldn't find out what that means.  Can you take it back if you allow the dog to pee on it, never water it or plant it in the wrong compost like me?   I wasn't clear.

Gentian Diana retails at £9.95 on the website which is very expensive for a perennial plus delivery is £4.95.  They do offer a track and trace facility so you can work out what day your plant will arrive.  I have had little experience of ordering plants online before, partly because of the high cost of delivery charges and also because I can't guarantee on being in to receive them.   I get them delivered to work but I don't always work in the same place so I do need a rough idea when they are coming.  Anyway, it didn't matter with this one and delivery was free for the review anyway.

All in all, it seems like a good quality plant with healthy roots, safely packaged, quite pricey but once you start ordering there are more offers to be had.  I will be charting its progress on here over the course of the summer and looking forward to some of its late summer flowers.

Time to plant some bulbs

Hours spent gardening: 6
Bulbs planted: another 264
Plants purchased: 0
Sycamore leaves collected: 6243
Worms accidentally guillotined: 200 or so

I've been anguished over bulbs after having seen the tulips by Bloms Bulbs at Chelsea this year and vowing I would have them for myself.  It was only after 6 months of drooling over their catalogue that I noticed the price tag of £7.50 for a pack of ten tulips.  This stopped me right in my tracks.  The upwardly mobile side of me (some might say shallow) was attracted by the statement on the website that said that Blom's are suppliers to Europe's finest stately homes.  At last, a touch of class for Clapton, I said.  Unfortunately, after endless nights agonising over Tulipa Jan Reus and wondering how I could justify it all in a recession, I allowed myself to purchase just thirty bulbs.

There is something about bulb planting time.  The nights draw in and this is our last chance to be outdoors.  Planting bulbs feels like a final fling of connection between the cycle of life and decay; handling bare earth lays down the foundations of the new shoots of next year.  Bulbs signify the signs of life at winter's end: the gold of the first crocus that promises the passing of harder times and the first sign of thaw.  Here, autumn's damp has long since sent the reggae blasters indoors.  In November, I am the only one still outside, the sharpness of the cold on my hands, the song of the robin in the tree, a thin golden sunset framed by the trees.

These primaeval instincts to plant, sow and divide were not going to be satisfied by thirty bulbs.  I then went on a kind of bulb binge, buying job lots of cheap ones from DIY stores.  Colour scheme went out of the window.  I chose the tulips from Bloms after hours of deliberation, settling for succession planting of pink, soft white and the darkest red verging on black.  At B&Q, I loaded the trolley with bargain bags of more tulips, fritillaria and an iris mixed that included yellow (normally banned around here, daffodils and crocus being the exception).  Everything was stuffed into the ground in a frenzy.  The other thing about the act of planting was forgetting where all the other bulbs were from last year and splicing through them with the bulb planter.  In this way, you can ensure I always have gaps to fill and thus feel justified in buying more plants.  I also managed to decapitate a couple of hundred worms.  I think I mentioned not being a very good organic gardener before.

The final mix is a combination of Bloms, JP Parkers, Spaldings (free for joining their blogger club and sticking the logo on here), Homebase and B&Q.  It's a kind of sliding scale of the social ladder of bulbs..  I'm waiting to see if the Bloms ones really perform better in the spring or whether we can all rest easily knowing that spending £9.99 on a pack of 100 will do the job just as well.

Chelsea Flower Show, 2012