Sweet peas & learning

I feel like I am sitting an end of term exam. So many people have sent me questions about sweet peas this week.

Some of them were tricksy ('What was the first commercially produced sweet pea?') and some plaintive ('Why don't sweet peas grow for me?!'). Many of the questions require a full blog post/video/book chapter for me to address with any satisfaction. And indeed, with time, they might. Supports for example. I have devoted more thought to willow, steel, and hazel structures for supporting sweet peas than might be strictly rational in 2024.

So if you have sent me a question and I haven't replied with an answer, then it is because I am planning a very comprehensive answer indeed.

The winner was not chosen for the question (although it was an excellent one), but chosen at random from the hundreds of entries. Congratulations, Julie Woodford.

I do feel very lucky to have been able to make responding to these questions an open book sort of exam, and it has directed my reading of A World of Sweet Peas. This is always helpful because I do have a tendency to read very beautiful books by just looking at the pictures. (My copy of What makes a garden also arrived this week, which is currently sitting on my coffee table and it is gloriously photographed by the lovely Britt Willoughby.)  Of course, I kept finding new varieties in AWOSP that I want to add to the very extensive collection of seeds to produce at Malus Farm in the 2025 season. Who knew that there are very different tastes in sweet peas in Sweden? Not for them the subtle, antique tones. They are all for the clear whites and jewel colours.

To the person whose question was 'is King's Ransom worth it?' the answer is, absolutely. But then I am a little biased, and I have been known to get really quite obsessed with dusky toned sweet peas. Piggy Sue, I am looking at you.

Other sweet peas I have been seduced by this week:

SPRING SUNSHINE CHAMPAGNE

A new introduction of a beautiful soft pastel apricot sweet pea. (It really isn't champagne, but it is lovely, so it's fine.)  Wavy petals and a musky fragrance with notes of cardamom and sandalwood.

SHELL PINK

Shell Pink is a brand-new introduction bred by famous breeder Keith Hammett.

Abundant delicate, petite flowers in a pale mother of pearl shell pink with a mild earthy and woody fragrance. I managed to get my hands on some of these at the book launch and they are exactly what I hoped Tickled Pink would be like, but it wasn't.

ROWALLANE

Enchanting, boasting lovely salmon-pink petals gracefully encircling a cream centre.

VALERIE HARROD

A vibrant apricot-pink hue. Noted for its pleasant scent and suitability for cutting, it adds practical elegance to both garden and floral arrangements. Those with long memories will recall that Valerie Harrod was one of the first sweet peas I ever stocked but somewhere along the way, it got lost. I am delighted to welcome her back into the Gather stable.

Monty Don

A really smashing sweet pea, opens light maroon fading to dark maroon with age. Vigorous and easy to grow, old fashioned scent but sweeter with a hint of caramel on the finish.

Yes, I also noticed that we are talking more about the scent of sweet peas. This seems to be because Phil (of English Sweet Peas and co-author of AWOSP) has a daughter who has an exceptional nose. The audio on this video is absolutely dreadful, and trust me, I have tried to improve it, but it was such an incredibly new and exciting thing to hear about, I thought it merited sharing. I'm tempted to book on a wine tasting course, just to learn the language of scent.

Of course, it will take a year for the plants that are currently sitting patiently in the wind and the rain in the courtyard to grow up, grow on and bear fruit, but hopefully, these will be the varieties that you'll be buying and gifting next Christmas. I adore that though; this is a labour of love and there's nothing any of us can do to hurry up a sweet pea. It is especially wonderful to think about how sweet pea flowers are triggered by day length and we are counting the hours until the shortest day. I dream of waking in the light. 

Other books that have arrived in the post this week:

THE SELF-SUFFICIENCY GARDEN

Huw Richards

Huw Richard's new book. Huw is a Scribehound colleague so I might be a bit biased but I think he is just wonderful. Can do attitude and sitting in the perfect sweet spot of sensible and sensitive. His most recent book is about self-sufficiency and it errs towards the practical in terms of my usual reading matter but it's also quite stylish so I forgive him. I keep leaving it open on the tomato page for my husband. I think they would be the gateway plant to him becoming an actual gardener, as opposed to a digger of holes and a fixer of tools.

HOW TO PRUNE FRUIT TREES

Robert Sanford Martin

My apple trees are a disgrace. My espaliers aren't, they are beautiful and perfectly pruned but it is really clear when and how they need to grow. The trees in the orchard are sprouting in all directions in the most incomprehensible way. And so an early Christmas present to me (and to them) was this rather retro little book. I will spend my time off work with my loppers in my hand, trying to restore some order. The cover illustration is of someone looking at an apple tree that, like mine, has got completely out of control and scratching their head, which gives me great hope that the author knows exactly how I feel. But if I don't learn anything, it'll be my fault. This book is in its twentieth edition and that has to mean something.

If you have any other recommendations for books for Christmas, or indeed, sweet peas that I simply must add to my list, please do let me know.