Flower farm update - March/April 2025
March and April on the flower farm are very much a ‘rinse and repeat’ of February: bed clearing, weeding, sowing and nurturing. I’d like to add ‘planting out’ to the list, but with the long run of freezing nights, that didn’t happen until mid-April. We did, however, have our first flowers - some truly tremendous tulips.
The best laid plans
So, tulips. Last year I planted 2,000, only for the rabbits to decapitate most of them. Those that did survive bloomed while we were away at the end of March.
They’re unpredictable, expensive, and bulb prices have shot up since Brexit - especially for the fancy ones I prefer: doubles and parrots - naturally the most expensive of all.
They’re tricky to sell too. Because they’re sold closed, people can’t see just how glorious they’ll be. And it’s hard to explain how much more special they are than the plain, budget supermarket versions.
Worse still, there’s not much else to go with them this early in the season. Perhaps a few stems of honesty or hesperis (sweet rocket), or some ranunculus - if I’ve grown them in the polytunnel, which this year I haven’t.
And then comes the May lull. A gap before everything else starts to bloom in June.
So I made a decision: I’d start selling from mid-June this year. And planned a holiday with my brother and his wife, who are visiting from Australia in early June.
All sorted.
Then I bought 600 tulips.
With so many irresistible varieties, I just couldn’t help myself. Honestly, it’s a miracle I didn’t buy more.
They’re flowering a little later and shorter than usual thanks to the cold, grey weather. But they’re still stunning. I’m usually a pastels girl, but tulips tempt me out of my comfort zone and I’ve got bright reds, zingy yellows, and even black parrots!
The weeding battle commences
Unglamorously, most of my time over the last few weeks has been spent clearing and weeding. Especially since my nemesis, bindweed, has started to rear its ugly head again.
I do an awful lot of weeding, but have to accept that I can never ever get on top of it. It’s like painting the hull of a cruise liner. By the time you reach the end, the start needs doing again.
Ranunculus and anemone focals
Ranunculus and anemones are my late spring focal flowers.
Once again, I’ve learnt the ‘you get what you pay for’ lesson the hard way. The premium corms I splashed out on have been fantastic - nearly all sprouted and are looking really healthy. The sale bargains I bought were tiny, and, after soaking, most just dissolved into the soil.
I planted a bed under frost cloth in early March and I’m presprouting and succession planting through April and May.
Sorry sweet peas
Last year was my best sweet pea year ever – I had a tall, thick wall of blooms around my hazel stick frame which nearly blew over in the wind. So this year, Roger has built a sturdier, stronger frame to cope.
Naturally, the sweet peas are now rubbish.
Most of the autumn-sown ones in the polytunnel died mysteriously. The rest are limping along after those bitterly cold nights. I’ve got a few spare packets left, but I don’t think it’s going to be a vintage year.
Sunflowers and zinnias are away
I start successions of sunflowers and zinnias in mid-March. They’ll stay in the polytunnel for a while before planting out.
I’m a sunflower convert. Not the bold, brash yellow ones—but the Procut series in pale lemon and dusky plum are just lovely. I also grow Sunfill Green, which has a beautiful calyx I use as foliage.
I always run out of room in the polytunnel around this time at the height of the seed sowing frenzy. This year I treated myself to a new set of shelves – creating five times the space I had before. It’s a game changer.
Irrigation woes
The flower field is too big to irrigate all at once, so we’ve split it into four zones, each with its own Link Tap.
I know I should have lifted the weed cloth and drip tape before winter. I didn’t. And now things are growing through it, so it’s too late. Roger then ran over a good few tapes with the lawnmower.
Most zones are still working fine. I’ve patched a couple of leaks to keep the pressure up. But I’ve got a few lines that aren’t filling properly. I’ll investigate when I get a moment. Worst case, I’ll lay new tape over the weed cloth. Not ideal, but it will have to do.
The great dahlia dust off
We dig up, dry and then move all our hundreds of dahlia tubers to the loft over winter. They sit in creates covered with hessian and seem to do fine, with most looking plump and dry.
Come April, it’s time to bring them all back down.
I pot mine up before planting them out. That way I can monitor for slugs, protect them from frost, and avoid wasting bed space on any that fail to sprout.
Of course, I always buy a few new ones each year—just in case. (Don’t tell Roger.)
And when they don’t die, I split them to get two or three more plants. So the numbers keep growing (again, don’t tell Roger).
This year, I might finally be at full capacity. Not sure what I’ll do next year when the tuber population keeps multiplying!
After a brief spell of sunshine that felt like summer, the weather’s turned chilly again. The plants are as confused as we are - 24°C by day and frost by night. But it is still only April. Just as well really, because they’re plenty more clearing, weeding, sowing and nurturing to go yet.
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