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October 26, 2009

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JamesA-S

Vegetables used to be very fifties but are now very late twenties (when you are still young enough to wear 3/4 length trousers without looking completely ridiculous).
I think that top fruit will be the new Dahlias for the middle aged. Apple grafting is as appealing to me as alpines.
Incidentally...
There is a codicil attached to my will which is an instruction to my children that the moment I start coveting variegated Leylandii (in particular a variety called Harlequin which is the closest any plant - bar Houttuynia - can get to being vomit coloured) then that is the moment that they should ring for Dr Kevorkian.
You know, of course, that mowing asters only makes them stronger. Do you have an extension lead? if so then maybe you could take the liquidiser for a walk into the garden.

Zoe

Love this post! We're very into anything (almost) instant or LARGE - if a plant fits either of these categories our girls are happy. On a note to defend the asters - they were my Great Grandmother's favourites (her name was Esther) and so I always smile and think of her when I see them. Not that that should make you feel guilty if you attack them ;-)

Jo

Although I didn't fall for ornamental grasses in my twenties I certainly discovered the joy of veg beds in my thirties. So what have I got to look forward to now that I've hit the forties?

elephant's eye

No-oh not dwarf conifers please!

Dawn/LittleGreenFingers

James - How about T-budding roses? It seems to fall into the same category and must occur, along with apple grafting, when you enter the 'mad professor age' - I'm thinking of a cross between Christopher Lloyd in Back to the Future and Dr Frankenstein.

I shall reconsider my aster assault...

Zoe - agreed - instant and large are great too. Attention spans are not what they were... But please don't concern yourself on Esther's behalf. I do have at least two other species of Aster but they have a more pleasing form and slightly subtler shade of purple.

Jo - as I'm within sight of my 40s, I too have been puzzling this question. It might be roses, which I have resisted up until this point (apart from climbers) - or maybe topiary (somewhere deep down I am beginning to harbour ideas of animal-shaped box plants).

EE - resistance is futile!

elizabethm

Well I don't know. I am of an age with J A-S. I've always hated asters and chrysanthemums and anything that looks like it might be in a hospital vase. The other day I found myself looking at an aster and quite liking it. The shock was almost too much for me. I haven't bought one yet but I might succumb. Not sure how that fits with the theory.
The only thing I notice is an increasing readiness to do things which take time (growing from seed and all that) but that is more because the kids have left home than actual age I think.

Metropolitan Mum

Asters have been the favourite flowers of my late grandfather, who would have turned 97 yesterday. How could I hate asters with this kind of a connection?
Lavenders and aristocracy? Not in my garden, I am afraid. They overgrow the flowerbeds like weeds. Just had another look at them. Definitely more the hippie kind of plants, scruffy and uncombed.

Tara@Sticky Fingers

I have two phormiums (sp?) I put in the garden about 6 years ago and now they are MONSTERS. When we have visitors round the do a double take at this large triffid thing in the corner that you have to fight your way around to get down the garden path.
I do love them though (although they have become home to about a million snails which I'm not best pleased about).

Dawn/LittleGreenFingers

Elizabeth - I think you may be on to something with the 'time' thing. My father keeps planting trees which will mature in about a hundred years. I reckon it's all about the legacy...

MM - I have the distinct feeling your grandfather would have chosen far classier asters than those I am currently trying to annihilate.

Tara - I too am quite fond of phormiums but only once they reach those sort of epic proportions. I am now slotting that into the '30-something' age category!


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