Everyone knows that you need to feed roses. So, when should you feed them? My Aunt Kate, who knows a thing or two about gardening, tells me that generally speaking you should feed them once in March, and again in June. Therefore I have just bought a large watering can and two sorts of rose feed, one that was slow release pellets and the other an instant liquid feed.
I decided that very likely all the plants in both front and back garden, the roses, the rhododendrons, the hydrangea, the azalea, could probably do with a good feed. The rhododendrons’ leaves are curling slightly at the top, the roses are looking less than perky, and the azalea, well, the bottle of feed said the azalea would appreciate it. I don’t even really know what an azalea looks like, only that the twiggy thing in the corner of the back garden is an azalea because the Cousin told me it was. I’m looking forward to seeing it in full leaf and bloom, if indeed azaleas bloom, because no doubt it will look jolly healthy now that I’ve scattered fertiliser around its roots. All the plants that looked as though they needed it got a good handful of fertiliser pellets, and anything really ill looking got some liquid feed as well.
The sorriest plant in all the garden is this poor sage:
Look at the poor wee thing, all shrivelled and distorted. It lives in an old chimney pot and hence all the nutrition it will ever get is what’s added by human hand. Clearly no human hand has fed it for quite some time, if ever. Being someone who loves to use sage in cooking (butternut squash and sage soup is the most wonderful lunch dish) I am particularly keen to get this plant happy and healthy as soon as possible; the healthier the plant the more delicious and flavoursome it will be.
I absolutely love feeding plants, always have. It’s such an easy way to get the best out of your plants, and they show their appreciation so rapidly and vibrantly. Having only had houseplants, mainly african violets and orchids, before now, my main experience of feeding plants has been with these. And how they respond, the violets almost overnight with suddenly lusher leaves and an abundance of purple flowers. I confess therefore I’ve been at the window rather, staring at the roses and the poor sage to see if I can see any difference yet; unfortunately I think yet again I am going to have to be patient as there’s no discernible difference so far, the sage looking as frail as ever and the roses just slowly producing pink and green leaves as they were before. No giant beanstalks jutting into the sky or anything like that.