I grow lavender. We’ve established that. I have over 50 plants in the front garden – Imperial Gem, if you’re interested. I chose that variety because the flowers are a particularly deep blue – nothing wishy-washy about them – and the plant’s habit is notoriously compact. The flowers look super against the brickwork of my house and against the lush green of the buxus, and the little guys seem very happy in my mostly west-facing front garden, which gets all the afternoon light but is disproportionately warm because it’s mostly gravel.
A couple of months ago I weeded the front garden. The presence of a few monster dandelions earlier this week alerted me to the fact that it’s a job which needs doing again. The buxus needs neatening up as well, so out I trot with my little topiary shears and … well. When you get right down to it, the gravel looks like this:
Look at the little bastards, lined up against the path, there!
INAPPROPRIATE LAVENDER. Of all the varieties I have grown in my life – and believe me, I’m a lavender slut, there have been quite a few – I have never known one as wilfully, relentlessly, irresponsibly fecund as Imperial Gem. That’s normal sized gravel, so the plantlets are tiny, but I can tell you from experience that since they’ve seeded straight onto gravel, their roots will already be well down in the substrate.
It’s Provence, out there. If Provence involved more swearing and raking.