Hurry Up, Dahlias (And Everything Else)

Despite the actual risk of sunstroke, I’ve just been outside to glare at the still-not-flowering dahlias, again. I know you’re not meant to get cross with your plants, but a heatwave makes your head do strange things, doesn’t it. And, in truth patience has never been one of my virtues.

This time, the waiting is mostly my own fault. Dahlias are native to Mexico, so heat isn’t actually their problem, timing is. Leaving the tubers to spend the winter in their pots rather than lifting them was a bold move which saved me space and a fair bit of faff back in spring. What it cost me was the head start on flowering.

Honestly, it’s the one real downside of the lazy method, but I also sowed everything else late too, so the garden is way behind where it’d normally be by now.

But for me, this past year has been far from normal. There’s still a couple of weeks yet before things reach the full tilt I promised you back in What Your Garden Will Look Like in Eight Weeks. I’m trying to not be too hard on myself whilst watching everything like a hawk for whoever needs fast heat exhaustion paramedic gardening care each day. I know this frustration is absolutely down to me.

Not that lateness explains everything (or so I keep telling myself). We were promised a second heatwave, and here it is, right on cue, (which I’m not going back over since I already told you all about the last one in My 5am heatwave rounds.) The impact of this new heat-ageddon means that every plant out there is understandably braced against the weather again. Meanwhile, I’m standing over them unreasonably willing things to bloom regardless.

Don’t let me paint the image that it’s completely barren of bloom out there, though. It’s not. It’s just the waiting, watching, knowing that a few downpours would make everything seem a lot more rosy that’s hard.

Right now, it’s the Rudbeckia hirtas taking the spotlight, planted in shallow pan pots at the top of my furrowed oak steps, and what a show they’re putting on. All three varieties I sowed last year have come back again this year without any help from me. RESULT! Rudbeckia hirta ‘Cherry Brandy’, Rudbeckia hirta ‘Sahara’, and Rudbeckia hirta ‘Cappuccino’, all brooding, all batting off the sun’s rays with a churlish, devil-may-care attitude, their petals just as radiant as the sun itself, and I am completely loving their glorious rebelliousness.

Talking of devils, Crocosmia ‘Lucifer’ is burning bright in the borders too, proper flame-red, threading through the emerging grasses, alongside a rather fine and particularly tall Euphorbia that I’ve annoyingly lost the label for. I bought it from Hortus Loci ages ago (can’t find the order to save my life. Typical), and I’m fairly sure it’s Euphorbia griffithii ‘Beauty Orange’.

Rich soil, a bit of shade competition pushing it up for the light, and here we are with a torch of burnt orange bracts on deep red stems that’s TWICE what the variety’s height promises. If you know what this variety is better than me, I’d LOVE to stand corrected, because this is the kind of plant that makes you stop deadheading and just stand there a bit stupidly pleased with yourself. I need to use it more.

I keep repeating the ‘most of gardening IS anticipation’ mantra to myself, knowing that I won’t quite be able to sit still until that brilliant ‘something’ arrives.

But patience is only half of what’s going on out there this week. There’s a water company email that landed mid-write and changed everything, a dahlia I’ve apparently managed to drown, and an area of my garden full of uninvited guests I’ve decided to keep. Right. Let’s get into the actual detail.

A quick thank you to my paid subscribers who make My Real Gardens possible. I’m deeply grateful you buy me the time away from my studio desk to do one of the things I love doing most in life – to share.

If you’ve just found My Real Gardens, welcome.

This is my personal gardening life, shared completely: thirty years of designing other people’s gardens, and everything I’ve learned along the way. There’s a whole back catalogue of advice, garden visits, plant lists, and the whole of my gardening life right here on Substack, shared honestly (the successes AND the failures).

And the community over here? Honest, open, funny, and absolutely no judgement EVER. There’s always room for you to join us on the other side of the fence.

On the other side of the garden gate this week:

● Why I’m deliberately leaving two very sorry-looking plants exactly as they are, and the test I use to decide when NOT to reach for the secateurs in a heatwave

● What just landed in my inbox from my water company mid-write, and what I’m actually doing about it

● How to actually tell if a wilting pot plant needs more water or has already had too much, using the exact trick that caught me out this week

● Why I’m letting a border full of uninvited seedlings run riot rather than weeding them out, and the point at which that stops being a good idea

● The actual physiological reason behind why sweet peas, Verbascum buds and my first-ever Monarda ‘Scorpion’ blooms are all coming through smaller than usual.

● A proper look at what’s actually coming in my garden: almost the entire Zinnia Queen series with their spider-eye buds fattening up, dozens of dahlias still to come, and a gladiolus so strange and beautiful I couldn’t resist it in the catalogue

Plus the audio version for listening whilst pottering, and access to the full My Real Gardens archive. Your subscription (less than a bag of compost a month) genuinely keeps this garden conversation growing.

As always, there are links peppered throughout the written version of this post (they’re the orange ones!) so do have a browse.