It seems hard to remember that May was warm, and sunny, and really rather nice. But my photos prove it was, and the Chelsea weather was perfect. The garden performed brilliantly with, it has to be admitted, not that much help from me. I’m worried that the pink rose in the front garden (unknown, fragrant, flowers from May to Christmas but already old when I moved in nineteen years ago) may be on its last legs. It has always had too long a main stem so I can’t cut it back properly. This year it sent up ridiculously long shoots which swayed hysterically in the wind and, in several cases, snapped. Now it’s finished its first flush of flowers I’ve deadheaded it quite hard in the hope that the next batch of flowers will be at eye-level rather than reaching for the roof.
Also in the front, the geraniums – hardy and otherwise were lovely, especially when viewed close-up.
In the back garden it was all a bit shaggy but the aquilegias flitted about like little coloured aeroplanes, the Welsh poppies seeded themselves charmingly all over the place and the red valerian managed to stand up reasonably straight. Only the blueberries sulked, which is unreasonable of them as I repotted them, religiously save rainwater for them and give them more tlc than most of the other plants put together.
Even so, all in all it was a really good month.