Rain, Ripening Tomatoes and a Solitary Allium

It’s my first time having some hydrangeas in the garden, and I’m tempted to self-administer forty lashes for not growing these before now.

It’s been a great week. Rain has fallen. That’s what rain does. Enough of it, at last. Not biblical quantities, admittedly, but enough to put a bit of life back into the place. The ground has softened. The leaves have perked up.

The weather, as usual, refuses to settle. One minute there’s rain tapping against the glasshouse, the next there’s a brightness in the sky. Temperatures are neither here nor there – not quite autumnal, not quite summer. It’s that curious bit of the year when the garden seems to be asking: Are we finished yet?

The rainfall has certainly helped. The jaded look has given way to a cautious resurgence. Buds are forming and flowers are gathering themselves for one last show, but there’s a sense that the garden is holding something in reserve. September is only around the corner. Perhaps there might yet be an Indian summer?

For today, though, let’s simply be grateful that enough rain has fallen. There is something satisfying about hearing it on the windows after weeks of watching the ground dry out. Tomorrow will bring its own weather, its own situations and probably its own little surprise.

Enough of the waffle. Let’s take a wander through the garden and see what’s happening. I’m joining in with many other gardeners across the globe for Six on Saturday hosted by Jim at Garden Ruminations.

New And Old

Hydrangea With Silky Web

It’s my first time having some hydrangeas in the garden, and I’m tempted to self-administer forty lashes for not growing these before.

This one is a bigleaf hydrangea, Hydrangea macrophylla. As August comes to an end, many of the giant blooms are fading, but some new ones appear.

As I snapped a few early morning shots, I noticed that the plant is decicately laced with silky webs. Check top left. An ambush awaits.

Pretty Pansy Purple

Pansy

Pretty pansy purple,
smiling in the sun,
Petals like velvet,
Dancing for fun.

Extract from “The Pansy Song” by Plooshi, a children’s song from the flower-themed album Flower Songs for Kids, Toddlers, Preschoolers, released in March 2025.

I was happy to revert temporarily to toddlerism, as I ambled down the garden today. 

I sang it for my granddaughter on phone face time. She isn’t very impressed with my singing. Others have mentioned that I’ve got Van Gogh’s ear for music.

Begonia: Front And Back

Trailing Begonia

I love trailing  begonias. This is one of my favourites. It’s in a small pot sitting on an upturned square pot, with a saucer beneath it to hold water.

I rotate the plant, perhaps twice a week, so that front and back will face the light.

Back of Begonia

This is unfortunate. I neglected to take my own advice. My guess is this side was facing backward for 7-10 days. Again, I am willing to submit to self-flagellation. Ten of the best should do the trick.

Sorbus acuparia Romina

Hard to see the Ash from the trees.

Back in May 2020, just as Covid lockdown began a phased easing, I purchased a beautiful Mountain Ash, Sorbus acuparia. I wrote about it back then. Here’s the link if you are really keen.

Shortly after that, a young Iranian girl was beheaded by her father to protect family honour. Sharia law is a bitch. I named this tree in her memory. Sorbus acuparia Romina Ashrafi.

Since then, the tree almost died, but it is now doing very well. I think the original article, linked above, is worth reading. I read it back during the week, and it saddened me.

Tomatoes / Trátaí

Tomatoes / Trátaí

Is maith liom trátaí. There’s a nip in the air these days, and more particularly overnight. So I moved seven tomato plants back into the glasshouse. There was a glut of tomatoes from mid-June, but the last of them need the extra heat to ripen.

Allium

Allium ‘solitarius’

I can’t remember planting it. It’s a solitary Allium, with nobody from the immediate family for company. As in life, it looks a little lonely, but gets on with living its best life. The flower is spent now, and seed is abundant.


That’s my Six on Saturday for this week. Six-on-Saturday is a meme originally started by The Propagator. For more Sixes on Saturday, from all around the world, head over to the blog of Six on Saturday host, Jim.

In Other News

  • When Trump hears I’m recovered from surgery and ready to protest at his Doonbeg Golf Club next month, I think he’ll chicken out. TACO.
  • Dolly Parton RIP. I spotted this on X during the week: You want to honor her today? Put a book in a kid’s hands. Stay married. Do the works.
  • Romina Ashrafi A sad Sharia Law tragedy in Iran (2020)
  • The Great Irish Eclipse — Almost Missed Over a Beer. This update is a summary of the August 12th eclipse and what I was doing instead of gazing at it.

Until next time,

Slán, Pádraig.

The Dandelion That Wouldn’t Let Go

A wonderfully chaotic garden moment: a ripe tomato hiding beneath a tangle of fine dandelion parachutes. Looks very much like she has forgotten where she was supposed to land.

The tomato looks distinctly unimpressed.

The dandelion’s defence?
“I swear I only blew in for a minute…”


Discaimer: AI text assisted. Monday morning brain-think not yet activated.

Pretty Pansy Purple

Pretty pansy purple

Smiling in the sun,

Petals like velvet,

Dancing for fun.

Extract from “The Pansy Song” by Plooshi, a children’s song from the flower-themed album Flower Songs for Kids, Toddlers, Preschoolers, released March 29, 2025. I was happy to revert temporarily to toddlerism, as I ambled down the garden today.

Happy Sunday. Live in the moment. Dance and sing.

From Hot Lips to Secret Trips

Note to US Border Patrol… If you find this Six-on-Saturday on my Social Media, do not ignore. Send me back to Ireland immediately.

It has been the best summer since 1976, and I’ve enjoyed my time in the garden. As a consequence, because I’ve spent so much time working in the garden and relaxing to enjoy it, I have neglected my blog. There has been an almost complete absence of writing it up. My Six-on-Saturday has been abysmal. I think I’ve posted twice, and today makes three!

For anyone unfamiliar with the Six-on-Saturday meme, here’s the nuts and bolts of it. Many hundreds of gardeners from around the world and from Kilbrien post six items from their garden on Saturdays. The rules are more like guidelines, and for example four of my six are taken in my garden this week, one is in our housing estate, and one is in Northern Ireland. Likely, my efforts will be tolerated and there are no red cards for such mild offences.

Recovery

The garden is recovering just a bit, following a week of showers, mostly light. However, a few very heavy thunderstorms dropped more water than we’ve had since late June. Hurrah for that!

I too am recovering after my gallbladder surgery on July 25th. The lovely surgeon Niamh and her team outlined a six-week recovery timeline for me. This is week four. No bike, no running and no swimming. They did mention that I’ll know what to do when the time is right, provided I listen to my body.

This week I’m doing light dumbbell exercises for arms only. Given the continued good weather, it makes sense to do this outside. Listening to my body, added to my usual good feeling whenever I’m in the garden.

Lobelia

I bought this at the Farmers Market in Lismore last Sunday. It’s Lobelia something-or-other, and not often that my phone camera captures red properly. On this occasion, I’m happy with the shot. It has been potted up and is now living it’s best life on my sunny patio.

Salvia ‘Hot Lips’

This shrub is about fifty metres up the road from me, on our estate greenspace. I did have it in the garden several years ago, given to me by a gardening enthusiast (thank you Ann🙏), but I didn’t mind it as I should have.

Simon usually sells Salvias at the local Farmers Market. Perhaps last year or the year before we discussed it. He told me it’s Salvia ‘Hot Lips’, and suggested I’d be in the good books if I were to buy it for my missus. A few days later, Marion met him and he suggested she buy it for me! Good salesman!

Verbena

I rarely get to look at the front garden, apart from coming to and going from the house. That said, the Verbena is worth looking at. The masses of small purple flowers act as a magnet for butterflies. It seeds itself freely in gravel. I even see it growing across the road, germinated along  cracks in the footpath.

Onions

Harvested two weeks ago, and drying in the glasshouse, I made an error in not removing some flowers when the time was right. Still, bees were attracted to it. I have since cut it back and moved all onions out of intense direct sunlight.

Blackberries

Recently, Marion and I made a road trip to Belfast. Long day 9am until 9pm, there and back same day. Don’t ask, it’s all under wraps! I’m subject to the Official Secrets Act 1963 and Protected Disclosures Act 2014.

Anyway, that’s enough rambling on. The point is that on one of several stretch-my-legs-breaks somewhere just north of the border, I came upon a feast of blackberries. Very tasty too, these northern blackberries.


These are my items for Six on Saturday, a meme originally started by The Propagator, currently hosted by Jim. For more Six-on-Saturday updates, from all around the world, head over to Jim’s blog.In addition, many others post on X using the hashtag (you guessed it!) #sixonsaturday. I sometimes post there too @psdeburca58


In Other News

  • Boat trip on the Blackwater. Mr. Meta bought a castle nearby but when we called, he wasn’t home.
  • Cinema: The Odyssey
  • Five teenagers in balaclavas were killed driving wrong way on M9 motorway. Four innocent road users remain critically injured. National outrage. What on earth is happening to our country?
  • Body Trauma Gallbladder surgery
  • From Rust To Yellow My AI fun.

Until next time,

Slán, Pádraig.

Beauty, Drought, and Lavender: The Best Garden Yet in a Summer of Contrasts

Summer 2026 has been one of the most remarkable seasons in memory. Two heatwaves, an almost rainless July, an extended hosepipe ban, and daily images of wildfires sweeping across Europe. Closer to home, both Slievenamon and the Comeragh Mountains burned, a sobering reminder that climate change is no longer a distant headline. It has arrived on our own doorstep.

And yet, despite the extremes, this has been the finest gardening summer I’ve ever had.

Gallbladder surgery at the end of July brought cycling, running and swimming to an abrupt halt. Six weeks of recovery sounded like a prison sentence at first. Instead, it turned into an unexpected gift. With no long rides to disappear on and no Parkrun to chase, I found myself with something gardeners rarely complain about—time.

Time on my hands

In previous years, the gardening season seemed to end on the last day of June. After that, it was mostly watering, deadheading and sitting in a chair admiring the results. This summer has been different. I’ve kept tinkering, planting, moving pots, feeding containers and generally interfering in the lives of perfectly happy plants. Thankfully, they seem to have forgiven me.

One lesson has stood out. In the past, there were simply too many summer annuals competing for attention. It was a colourful jumble rather than a composition. This year I simplified everything, focusing mainly on begonias and geraniums. The result has been a garden with more harmony, stronger colour and a display that has carried right through the season. Sometimes, the best gardening decision is deciding what not to grow.

2026: The Year of Begobias

The vegetable patch has been modest but generous. Onions, tomatoes and rhubarb all produced well. The tomatoes have already become a batch of rich homemade relish, while a gift of fresh cucumbers is patiently waiting to become pickle next week. There is something deeply satisfying about walking a few steps from the garden to the kitchen and then filling the pantry with jars that began as tiny seeds only a few months ago.

Perfect weather = abundant supply.

The list of completed jobs has been surprisingly long. The shed has finally been tamed, daffodils have been lifted and repotted, and the patio has never looked better. Begonias, geraniums, gaura and sedum have turned it into a riot of colour. Even the weeds seem to have looked around and decided they couldn’t compete.

Finding the positive amid trauma of surgery.

Next on the agenda are two large timber planter boxes. The first will be built this week, the second in September. They’ll eventually become home to twelve lavender plants beside Marion’s favourite sitting step. She loves brushing her hands through lavender and carrying the fragrance with her afterwards. It’s a small project, but one I’ve been thinking about since last year.

The only slight complication is that fresh timber and I don’t get along terribly well. I’m allergic to it, so the building process will involve gloves, long sleeves and enough protective gear to make it look as though I’m handling hazardous chemicals rather than a few innocent planks of wood.

It has been a summer of striking contrasts: beauty and abundance alongside drought and fire; flourishing borders beside parched fields; recovery after surgery mixed with the frustration of staying off the bike and out of running shoes. Looking back, though, perhaps the enforced slowdown was exactly what both the garden and the gardener needed.

Strength training in garden is a win win.

A season of fewer miles, more flowers, more relish, and a garden that has never looked better. Sometimes life has a funny way of swapping one kind of growth for another.


Over on my other blog, I’ve outlined some fun amid the trauma of gallbladder removal surgery. Here’s the way to get there! Truly, there’s no such thing as minor surgery.

Pádraig

Six Photos. Many More Plants

15 August 2026

I used ChatGTP to analyse this collage of six photographs. It was able to complete this task slightly faster than my 68-year-old processor. Here’s the bottom line…

  • Hylotelephium (Sedum) ‘Herbstfreude’ / Autumn Joy — the large rounded cream-pink flower heads throughout the foreground. These are especially prominent in the main photograph.
  • Hydrangea macrophylla — the large pink/mauve hydrangeas in pots at bottom left.
  • Pelargoniums (zonal geraniums) — the masses of red, pink, salmon and orange flowers in pots and window boxes.
  • Lavandula (English lavender) — the grey-green foliage and purple flower spikes against the wall.
  • Gaura lindheimeri — the delicate pink-and-white flowers on long, airy stems in the foreground.
  • Allium — the spherical white flower heads in the separate photograph; they appear to be flowering/going to seed. My assistant, realising that I’m addempting to dry the onions, offers solid advice: “Best to deadhead the lovely flowers, because they will interfere with the process.”
  • Blackberry (Rubus fruticosus agg.) — the ripening blackberries in the top-right photograph. Note: not my garden. These are Northern bla kberries, photographed on a recent journey to Belfast.
  • Pansies/violas — visible in the window boxes and among the pots.
  • Lobelia — the small blue-purple flowers trailing from the hanging pot/chair area.
  • Heuchera — some of the foliage plants around the containers look like heucheras, although the photograph isn’t quite detailed enough to identify cultivars.
  • Euonymus — the variegated cream-and-green shrub in the foreground looks very much like a variegated Euonymus.
  • Thuja/conifer — the upright evergreen in the left-hand container arrangement appears to be a small arborvitae-type conifer.
  • One particularly interesting plant
    The large white/pink flower heads that appear repeatedly in the foreground are almost certainly a stonecrop/Hylotelephium, rather than the old-fashioned annual sedums often called Sedum. The fleshy leaves and flat-topped flower clusters are characteristic.
  • The plant with the very airy pink flowers beside it is almost certainly Gaura (now often classified as Oenothera lindheimeri). It makes a lovely combination with the sedum because the two have such different flower structures.

They were my Six on Saturday, a meme originally started by The Propagator. For more Sixes on Saturday, from all around the world, head over to the blog of Six on Saturday host, Jim.

The Great Irish Eclipse — Almost Missed Over a Beer

For Ireland, this was a genuinely unusual event. The next eclipse of comparable significance visible from Ireland is not expected until 2090. I’ll be 132.

The 12 August 2026 solar eclipse was a particularly spectacular event for Ireland, although it was not total.

🇮🇪 What happened in Ireland?

Ireland experienced a very deep partial solar eclipse, with the Moon covering roughly 94–97% of the Sun, depending on location.

Captured by my brother.

At maximum, only a thin crescent of the Sun remained, producing noticeably dimmer, almost twilight-like conditions.

🌑 Where was it total?

The path of totality crossed parts of:
Greenland → Iceland → northern Spain → Mediterranean

Those within the narrow path saw the Moon completely cover the Sun, revealing the solar corona and producing a brief period of darkness.

Ireland was just outside that path — close enough, though, to experience an exceptionally deep partial eclipse.


👀 And importantly…

Even when only a tiny fraction of the Sun remained visible, ordinary sunglasses were not safe. Proper eclipse glasses or an appropriate solar filter were required for direct viewing.

For Ireland, this was a genuinely unusual event. The next eclipse of comparable significance visible from Ireland is not expected until 2090. I’ll be 132.


Marion and I hosted her cousin, Fr Leo Shea from Tuesday 11th until Thursdsy. At the time of the eclipse we were enjoying a meal Al fresco with some local beers. Really, we only noticed the dimmed light to a certain extent. The beers were too nice and the conversations were better!

Six-on-Saturday: February 2024 Week 4

Featuring: alyssum, apple shoots, a lone crabapple, lettuce, moss, and powerwashing.

I am retired but my weeks are busy. Increasingly during February I’m busy in the garden for short daily bursts. I’m busy too with meetings, book readings and creative opportunities. This week has been exceptionally busy. There were some added chores including car repair, book emails, handwritten letters, and further failed efforts to reorganise my website.

Now it’s time to focus on SIX. This week’s offering excites me. I do hope you enjoy it. Ar aghaidh linn… Off we go…

Powerwashed Patio

Changed utterly. A terrible beautiful patio is reborn. The powerwashing is finished. Moving all pots and planters amounted to more lifting than I’ve had in the gym since Christmas and still they lie higgeldy piggeldy waiting for my energy reserves to be replenished. The blue bin and the Budda are not normally side by side and the path to the shed is gridlocked. Next week I’ll show the end result. My plan is for a radical shake up.

Moss

A rolling stone gathers no moss, and inversely the moss on this stone is there for a reason. Nature ingeniously fills the void.

Crabapple

Up close with a decaying Crabapple. There were several flies in and around this but I seem to have scared them off.

Lettuces

My best guess it I’ll be having homegrown lettuce for lunch in about three weeks. In case you’re wondering, I’ve put a few obstacles to deter the curious blackbird. She loves to scatter soil looking for delicious food beneath.

Apple Buds

My intention was to get a decent shot of the emerging apple shoots. I did but both shoots are slightly blurred. So, as a means of turning my disappointment to a positive, I changed focus to the lichen growing on the bough. Delighted with myself!

Technically, the shoots are not blurred, merely the shot. Operator error once more. I’m considering self-flagellation.

Nesting Material

Here lie the mortal remains of last summer’s white Alyssum. Although I’m tempted to tidy it away I’ll leave it for the birds. Nest construction has commenced so I’ll keep a watchful eye for activity. Many of the wild grasses have been trimmed back and the clippings are strewn about in as higgeldy piggeldy a fashion as the pots.

Summary

Páraig

What A Wonderful Saturday

This week there’s a garden book and a plant for the kitchen window. Also included: feeding the doves, but not raking away fallen leaves too early.

Páraig’s likes garden books and plants for the kitchen window. He also likes feeding the doves and riding the bike, but not raking away fallen leaves too early.

During the week I put together what I think is a good piece about our beautiful world. Despite horrific world events at a political level I focus on the beauty. War is a tsunami that destroys life.

Reinforcing my firm belief that it’s a beautiful world, here’s my garden and my wider natural landscape garden to remind me of such beauty. Thanks to Jim at Garden Ruminations, for hosting Six on Saturday. Pop over to discover updates from participating writer-gardeners.

I was with my garden for a full afternoon on Thursday. Plenty to do, despite my resolve not to tidy up too much just yet. As OffTheEdgeGardening would say, shall we shake a leg?

1. Gorse

On a recent forest walk on Corrin Holy Hill near Fermoy to shake a leg and the holiday cobwebs, we came upon this in full flower. Our day was brightened.

2. Metrosideros

Photo is a bit wonky. I deserve no more than 4 out of 10 for effort.

Notes FROM the RHS: A genus of around 60 trees, shrubs and vines, most commonly grown for their showy, tufty predominantly red bottle brush-like flowers, which can also be orange, yellow or white.

So, this much I know… Mine is definitely one of sixty. Unfortunately, that still doesn’t narrow it down to specifics. No matter, it’s on the kitchen windowsill and it’s very dainty.

3. Skimmia rubella

Greenery and budding flower. What’s not to love? Featured regularly. I think it may appear again in the months ahead.

4. Sedum

Sedum (or rather the unpronounceable updated name that was Sedum) is finished. In recent years I would have cut this to tidy it up. Now it stays although it is decaying. I’m letting nature just be.

5. Feeding Time

I never fail to appreciate this view. There’s a lot going on. My garden chair is under the eave of the roof outside the back door and part of my morning ritual is to sit and watch.

6. Reading This

There’s a short paragraph for every day of the year within. I recommend it highly.

Summary

Pop over to Jim’s Site to discover more Six-on-Saturday updates. Until next time, I hope you get to enjoy some time in the garden.

Flooding

There’s widespread flooding in so many areas. I was lucky navigate my bike safely on mucky roads last Wednesday.

P.

Looking Back to 2020.

Páraig likes polyanthus and dangling baubles. He also likes air-layering and red wine, but not conifers that lean non-veratically.

This post featured on an old blog back in mid-December 2020, as Coronavirus spread rapidly worldwide. I’ll say nothing, except for one thing… The wine was delicious, and the article turned out OK. Now that I see that on screen, it’s not right to say nothing and then add just one thing.

Come along with me, back to 2020…


I must make a start. It’s Friday wine-time and there’s not a child washed. Retirement can be exasperating, but never fear! Red wine and words will flow freely, so grab a coffee, put your phone fón on flight mode and join with me for some random Six on Saturday reflections.

First Glass

In an attempt to draw the eye away from the household bins, the baubles dangle on the bare Acer. This is a recent addition to the three trí permanent baubles. Initially, I thought I could see the photographer’s reflection. Thought made a fool of me this time!

Relegated from inside

Second

I am definitely reflected clearly in this one. It was taken a few days cúpla lá before wine-time. Regular readers may remember I used this ball to try air-layering. I was assured that eight weeks would be enough time and roots would form inside. Well, thought made a fool of me for a second time. I opened it (and others) only to find that nothing happened. I regret to say that the solution is… more wine. How exasperating!

Failure is the best medicine

Now The Third

Here, I’m opting for a virtual reflection, the sort that usually starts in my head. The best time for head reflection is between the second and third glass gloine. Everything after that becomes as blurred as thought.

There is very little garden colour at this time on Friday evening, so it was wonderful to see the polyanthus in full bloom a few days ago. That’s a wholesome thought, articulated clearly.

Polyanthus

Pacing Myself

I’m only halfway there, and I’ve decided to cease and desist in order to continue clear articulation. The bottle buidéal has been moved out of reach. I snapped this last Wednesday, shortly after a rowdy group of starlings pecked ravenously at something within. I know not what was within, nor the name used for a group of starlings. I don’t even remember the name of the plant. The solution is clear; wine will surely help. I’m reaching out.

Unknown rockery plant

Approaching Plastered State

This is an unplastered west-facing wall. It is seven feet tall, but that’s not important now. The photograph clearly shows the conifer leaning non-veratically Northwards. Of course its non-vertical! That’s what leaning actually means. This wine is really helping me to articulate clearly. I’m so happy that I took a break between glass three and four.

Too much wine

Mumbo Jumbo

I was given a beautiful bowl and lamp set when I left Ballinameela in 2007. The bowl lived a fruit-filled life on the kitchen table for many years. Last month it was upgraded to a garden birdbath, behind the hebe. Regularly filled with water, the birds sometimes visit it. Filled with water, as baths sometimes are, the birds visit it regularly.

They drink, bathe and perhaps enjoy looking at themselves. My final clear thought for the evening runs something like this…

A small amount of wine can lead to great fun. In this instance I learned about reduplicated phrases such as mumbo-jumbo that arrived in our everyday language. This is playfulness at its best! My favourite reduplicated phrase is…

Is it just hot, or is it HOT-hot?

The link to the original article and comments is HERE. It’s called Reflections Cum Vino.


Back to 2023

As I mention not rushing around, here’s a little something I wrote during the week about a Portuguese Proverb and the merits of doing Just One Thing.

P.

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