White daffodils

One of the stranger complaints I've received at the Gardens is that we had too many white daffodils, and not enough yellow ones. A woman came in and asked if white daffodils turned yellower as they opened. The answer was no. "Then some fool must have gone crazy with the white ones" she replied.
     This person was under the impression that all 'real' daffodils are bright yellow - the old King Alfred strain that, although cheerful, can be a bit loud in some settings. Woodland, for example. I've written before about Wordsworth's daffodils, and that what he saw would in no way be bright yellow King Alfreds, but the quieter, paler "Lent lily", Narcissus pseudo-narcissus, that is native to England.

 

Narcissus 'Thalia'

 

  There are so many narcissus cultivars now that it seems a pity to just plant swathes of one kind. The paler narcissus are quietly refreshing, and 'good-doers' too. I'm enjoying a white narcissus called 'Thalia' at the moment - it really is lovely, almost orchid-like. Unfortunately, it seems to have a virus causing little brown marks on leaves and flowers, so I should destroy the bulbs after flowering, or put them in quarantine in some out of the way place and see what happens next year.
P.S. Noticed that the pansies planted in the same pot also have a virus-y look. Perhaps there's something in the soil. Must throw the soil out and scrub the pot well.

 

Just picked this morning, delicate pale narcissus and a few hellebores. Most of this bouquet are 'Earlicheer' with 'Thalia', one 'Soleil d'Or and some unnamed daffodils from previous gardeners.

Magnolia 'San Jose' is in its last magnificent throes, this photo was taken from the conservatory (the best viewing place) hence the odd window reflection at the bottom. And the end of my washing line, which should be full of drying cushion covers if only I can get off my bum and go and wash them!

 

Cold

Yes, it's cold and I have one. Haven't done much today except work. Thought for the day: must try and inject some Kiwiana into my house. Soon I'll get to take my harakeke basket back home. I made it for the library, but they don't seem to like it or want it or know what to do with it, so its my baby and it can live happily in my conservatory.
Speaking of my conservatory, I spent some of Saturday cleaning mould off the floor and windows. We have had no sunny days lately so my house is becoming Mildew Manor. Blech.
The daffodils I appropriated from the old house site over the road are coming up, so I feel vindicated in taking them. The site is about to be "developed". So far this has involved cutting down all of the large trees, one was a beautiful linden tree about 80 years old. The next step will be to strip the topsoil and sell it, so my bulbs will be as "brands snatched from the burning". Perhaps by the time they flower I will have a digital camera so can post some pictures.

Daffodils in winter

I've just seen daffodils on sale at the supermarket, blooming and lovely and yellow, but it's early June, just the beginning of winter here in the southern hemisphere. While I love spring flowers, I don't want to see them at other times. It seems that not only do we have the technology to produce out-of-sesason vegetables, but also cut-flower crops and bulbs. These daffodils will have been kept in a dark place and force-fed nutrients and chemicals, their natural flowering cycle altered to fit the time that they will make most money for the grower, like a vegetable Strasbourg goose.
Surely part of the joy of spring is the long wait we have for it, and the sense of emerging from a dark tunnel into a world of colour, scent and warmth. Is this why so many people in our Western world suffer from depression? Our joy is dulled by our ability to have whatever we want when we want it, there is no thrill of anticipation any more. I think the writer Wilkie Collins was once asked for the secret of writing. "Make'em laugh, make 'em cry, make 'em wait". Hope deferred may maketh the heart sick, but a little waiting is good for the soul. Wait for your daffodils; they will seem all the sweeter.