The Dry Season Settles In ... My Dry Tropics Journal ... End-of-Autumn, May 2026

Garden Journal Entry  -  May

Weather Log for the month:

Seasons:  End-of-Autumn / Dry Season 
Maximum Temps:  25°C - 31°C            
Minimum Temps:  11°C - 22°C
Humidity Levels:  40 - 70%   
Hours of daylight:  11 hrs 10 mins
Rainfall:  0 mm (0 ins.) 

May: a true threshold month in the garden

By the end of May, the garden no longer feels newly released from the wet season. That was April’s story — the relief of being able to garden again, the first proper clean-up, and the great return to jobs that had felt almost impossible during the long, hot, humid months.

May feels different.

The rain has stopped. The air is drier. The ground is now very firm underfoot, and the sky has taken on that enormous dry-season blue that seems to stretch forever above the garden.

The days are still warm — this is North Queensland after all — but there is less weight in the air now. The afternoons are softer and the evenings are cooler. Not a southern winter chill, of course, but that lovely dry-tropics coolness that arrives almost as a surprise after months of heat and humidity.

Our tropical winter is approaching.

Garden Conditions

This is the month when the garden asks for small, sensible attention rather than big dramatic effort.

A little mulch here. A shifted pot there. Some trimming. Some watering decisions. Some slow wandering and close looking.

The garden is still green, but 0 mm of rain for the month tells its own story. May is the time to start thinking ahead and looking at the garden with dry-season eyes. Which plants will need more shelter as the dry continues? Which pots are too exposed? Which ones are too far from the hose? Which garden beds need topping up before the soil begins to dry out properly?

The same pots that were too wet in February will dry out quickly in the clearer, breezier weather. May is a good month for rethinking positions, rescuing tired specimens, and deciding which containers deserve the prime spots close to water.

The skies have been stunning — wide, bright, brilliant blue — and they have changed the whole feeling of the garden. After the greyness and heaviness of the wet season months, that clear blue sky makes everything feel lighter and more open.

These are the mornings when I find myself noticing the smaller things. A plant that has quietly improved. A flower hanging on longer than expected. A fern looking particularly pleased with itself in the shade house. A patch of weeds that is not going to pull itself out, no matter how patiently I ignore it.

Gardening Tasks

May has been a month of pottering in the best sense of the word — noticing, adjusting, rescuing, shifting, trimming, and slowly setting the garden up for what comes next.

Mulching is vital for the outdoor garden beds particularly for the
- spaces with poor soil that are exposed to mostly direct sunlight during the hottest part of the day (on the left)
- and the spaces that have only recently been established and need care (on the right).

Mulching has become one of the important dry-season jobs. It may not be the glamorous side of gardening, but it is one of the most useful. A good layer of mulch helps keep moisture in the soil, protects roots, and gives the garden a better chance of moving through the dry months without too much stress.

Potted plants have also needed attention. I have been moving some into better light, giving others a little more shelter, and generally trying to make sensible decisions before the dry season properly settles in.

There has also been weeding, of course.

Weeds creep through in between pavers, colonise garden edges, and pop up between treasured plants in garden beds and pots. Some are still easy to pull while the soil holds a little moisture. Others have already made themselves far too comfortable.

This is also a good time to notice what has self-seeded. I rarely find welcome little volunteers. They are usually future thugs in disguise. The trick is learning which is which before the garden makes the decision for you.

There is something satisfying about May weeding though. It feels less like the desperate catch-up work of early autumn and more like preparation — reclaiming the garden section by section before the dry season hardens the soil and makes everything more difficult.

Nothing too grand or ambitious. Just sensible dry-season gardening.

Garden Highlights

May brought some lovely little garden rewards.

The potted Plectranthus saccatus have been putting on a fabulous display out in the courtyard. They have that generous way of filling a pot and softening a space, and at the moment they are doing it beautifully.

The potted Impatiens walleriana have also been a quiet triumph. After looking thoroughly unimpressed with life during the wet season, they have recovered. All of them. 

It is a small thing, perhaps, but after watching them struggle through the heavy rain and humidity, seeing them freshen up again feels like a proper little garden victory.

Near the car shed, the Iris domestica, commonly known as the Blackberry Lily or Leopard Lily, was showing off its last bloom. Just one — but it caught my eye. These last flowers of a season always feel worth noticing. They are like a final word before the plant slips back into the background.

Under the pergola, the pink Begonia semperflorens has been producing the tiniest blooms. They are not showy in a loud way, but they are beautiful. Little details like that are easy to miss if I am rushing, but May encourages slower looking.

And in the shade house, the beautiful Davallia fejeensis, the Rabbit’s Foot Fern, is showing exactly why it is such a great plant for that protected space. Its soft, divided fronds and those wonderfully strange furry rhizomes seem perfectly at home there.

Seasonal Markers

Autumn colours are not a usual occurrence here in the dry tropics, certainly not in the way they are in cooler climates. But there are still some trees that mark the seasonal change in quieter ways. 

One of these is Lagerstroemia speciosa. It is winter deciduous, and as the dry season transition begins, the older leaves turn red or rusty-coloured before falling during our mid to late autumn.

Another marker at this time of year is the native Eucalyptus platyphylla, commonly known as the Poplar Gum. It is notably dry-season deciduous, and as the season shifts, the outer layer of bark begins to fall away, revealing the smooth white trunk beneath. Looking around my garden and the surrounding bush land, I noticed the Poplar Gums are all at different stages of this process. Some have already shed most of their rough outer bark, while others are still in the middle of letting go.

As autumn ends, one of my favourite sights in the garden is the burst of colour from my Calliandra haematocephala, or red Powderpuff, and Calliandra surinamensis, or pink Powderpuff. The flower buds look like little raspberries before they bloom — first green, then red. Once they open, the individual flowers are small, but they cluster together to form those wonderful soft, spherical powderpuff blooms. It is a delightful sight, and another little signal that the season is shifting.

Smoke on the Horizon

May also brought one of the unmistakable signs that the dry season has begun.

Planned burning has started near where we live, in the Mt Elliott section of Bowling Green Bay National Park. Yesterday, as we were driving into our rural suburb, we could see plumes of smoke rising in the distance. This morning, there was still a faint hint of smoke hanging around the foothills.

It is another seasonal marker.

In the dry tropics, the approach of winter is not only about cooler mornings, crisp evenings, and pleasant gardening weather. It is also about drier grasses, clearer skies, smoke on the horizon, and the start of bushfire season.

The garden might be my daily focus, but it sits within a much larger landscape. The foothills, the bush paddock, the national park, the grasses drying out beyond the garden fence — they are all part of the same seasonal story.

May makes that very clear.

What Flowered During May?

The Justicia brandegeeana, or Shrimp Plant, has been covered in blooms. It is one of those plants that always seems to bring cheer to a garden corner, with its curious, layered flowers and easy-going character.

The last of the Mussaenda philippica x flava ‘Calcutta Sunset’ flower sprays are still hanging on too. They are past their peak now, but still beautiful in that lingering, end-of-season way. I always admire plants that hold onto their colour just a little longer than expected.

The Gerberas have been blooming once more, which feels like another small reward. Their flowers have such simple brightness to them — bold, cheerful, and impossible to ignore.

The rather leggy Salvia madrensis, or Golden Fountain Salvia, continues to show off its flower spikes. It may not be the neatest plant in the garden, but when those yellow flowers appear, all is forgiven. Some plants earn their space by being tidy. Others earn it by having a moment.

Closing Reflection

May in a Townsville dry tropics garden is a quieter kind of beauty.

It is found in the big blue sky, the clearer air, the crisp evening coolness, and the pleasure of wandering without hurry. It is found in small jobs, sensible decisions, fresh foliage, late flowers, and the gentle satisfaction of seeing a few tired plants spring back to life.

The garden is no longer simply recovering from the wet. It is settling into the drier part of the year with plants slowing, shedding, and conserving themselves.

Wintertime is drawing close, and we are beginning to feel its first cool touch.

Until next time,
🌸 Happy gardening from the dry tropics!

Rain, Humidity & Heavenly Perfume ... My Dry Tropics Garden Journal ... End of Summer, January & February 2026

Garden Journal Entry - Week 9 catch-up

(a two-month wet season recap)

Weather Report for both January & February:

Seasons:  End of Summer / Mid Wet Season 
Maximum Temps:  25°C - 36°C            
Minimum Temps:  20°C - 27°C
Humidity Levels:  70 - 90%   
Hours of daylight:  12 hrs 30 mins
Rainfall: 1011 mm (around 40 ins) - over 40 days across two months

The new gardening year started with a drenching — here in the foothills of our rural suburb, over 200 mm (around 8 inches) of rain fell in just 24 hours on the very first day of 2026. Almost instantly, little streams and tiny waterfalls popped up all around our property as the already sodden ground struggled to absorb the downpour. 

On our sloping block, that meant a surprising amount of run-off: water finding every low point, carving temporary channels, and reminding me (again) that wet season gardening isn’t just about the plants — it’s about the land itself and how it moves water.  Work continued throughout the start of the year on the creation of diversion banks and channels along our fence line to allow the wet season run-off to flow onto the bush paddock without causing erosion in our front yard.

Wet Season 2026

The runoff channels / diversion bank work

Compared to ...

Wet Season 2024

The front yard being carved up by the wet season deluge

The months of January and February in my coastal dry tropics garden are always a bit of a paradox: this is the time of year when everything looks like it should be thriving, given the amount of rain … and yet it’s also when you discover which plants only ever loved you in the mild months.

Summer 2026 brought the full wet-season energy to Townsville - hot, humid, and oppressive conditions with excruciatingly high daytime temps., very warm nights, exceedingly steamy mornings, short and intense afternoon thunderstorms, sudden downpours that feel like someone tipped a bucket over the sky, and that familiar rhythm of “it’s fine… it’s fine… oh wow, it’s really not fine.”

The sound of rain on the corrugated tin roof after a long dry season is one of my favourite sounds
... but the initial love does fade during a lengthy wet season!

The weather story (aka: why the pots sulked)

Looking at the Townsville Aero Weather Station daily observations, January 2026 delivered a hefty 657.2 mm (26 ins.) of rain in total, with a biggest daily fall recorded at 223.0 mm (9 ins.). That’s the sort of month where you stop “watering” and start “triaging.”

February stayed firmly in wet-season mode too, with 353.8 mm (14 ins.) recorded for the month. Still humid, still lush, still plenty of moisture around - just with a little more breathing space between the soaking events.

In the garden at my place, that translated to:

• potting mix staying wet for days (even the “free draining” stuff)

• leaves and mulch that never quite dried out, especially in crowded corners

• fungal spots and stem rot waiting for one overcast week to make their move

• and that tricky combo of heat + humidity where plants can look fine… right up until they don’t!

One of the potted plants moved to the "Wet Season Triage Corner"
- a soggy pot, a rotting plant, and lots of lovely mould 

The reality check: garden time was… patchy

One of the most defining things about January and February this year (and most years) wasn’t just what the wet season did to the plants - it was what it did to my ability to be out there with them.

Time in the garden was limited by the lengthy (and sometimes very heavy) periods of rain, the muddy, slippery sections underfoot, and the kind of high humidity that turns a quick potter into an instant sweat-soaked expedition. On many days it wasn’t so much choosing when to garden, as waiting for a small weather window to appear.

Whenever it was possible to get out into the garden - usually early mornings or late afternoons - I kept the jobs simple and sensible. This was not the season for big projects or major reshuffles. Most visits came down to two things:

• Weeding, because wet season weeds do not take days off, and

• Monitoring plant health, especially anything in pots or anything showing early signs of stress - yellowing, spotting, limp growth, or stems that felt a little too soft for comfort.

And honestly? That kind of slow, watchful gardening suits this season. In a wet tropical summer, the garden is doing a lot without you - growing, flowering, recovering, sometimes struggling - and your job is mostly to notice and respond when and where you can.

The casualties: Impatiens and Coleus (my annual wet-season lesson)

This year’s wet-season losses were mostly in pots - Impatiens and Coleus, in particular. They’re such generous colour-givers… but in prolonged humidity and repeated rain, potted plants can go downhill fast. Wet feet, softened stems, and that moment where you realise the plant hasn’t “wilted”… it’s collapsed.

My big takeaways (yet again!): in a Townsville summer, pots need airflow, height, and escape routes.  I always forget how quickly pots can turn in this weather ... I should know better.

• Lift pots so they can drain freely (feet, bricks, anything)

• Thin out crowded plantings so leaves actually dry

• Accept that some soft-stemmed beauties are basically wet-season annuals (even when the label says “perennial”)

Next wet season I'm going to pretend I'm organised and actually do the airflow pruning earlier!!!!! 😉

The real headline of Jan–Feb:  Perfume ... everywhere!

While these last two wet season months have been a stress test, as usual, they have also given me the loveliest reward: fragrance, drifting through the garden in waves - sometimes creamy, sometimes sharp-green, sometimes sweet and nostalgic.  Because garden visits were brief and weather-dependent, the perfume wafting throughout the garden felt even more vivid - like the garden's way of greeting me the moment I stepped outside.

Gardenia ‘Soleil d’Or’

Gardenia mutabilis 'Soleil d'or" in full bloom
- the highly scented blooms open white, turn yellow, and then finally gold as the flowers mature

This was the star - that rich, buttery gardenia scent that feels almost textured. Some days it floated on the air all around the driveway and pathway entrances to our house; other days it was concentrated and heady, like the whole garden was wearing perfume. In the wet-season humidity, fragrance seems to hang around longer, especially in the evening.

Jasmine

Jasmine grandiflorum, commonly known as the Poet's Jasmine
- this vine has lots of very fragrant large single flowers

Jasmine in summer is like a soundtrack you don’t realise you’ve been missing until it starts again. It’s lighter than gardenia but it carries - and when the air is still after rain, it can travel from out in the courtyard (where it's planted) through to all the rooms at the back of the house.

Murraya paniculata 

Murraya paniculata (commonly known as Mock Orange or Orange Jessamine
- this tall-growing shrub is covered in beautifully scented white flowers

Murraya has its own kind of magic - a clean, sweet, citrusy-floral scent that reads as “freshly washed air” to me. When it’s flowering well, it’s the plant that makes you pause without thinking: you just stop because something smells good.  They grow all around the house and throughout the garden, creating a heavenly perfume wherever you walk.

What I love about this season (even with the soggy setbacks)

There’s something very dry-tropics about finding joy in the between moments: that short window after a storm when everything is dripping, birds and butterflies are busy again, and the garden smells like leaves, wet mulch, and flowers all at once.

Yes, I lost a few potted plants. But the trade-off was a garden that, for weeks on end, was scented by Gardenia, Jasmine and Murraya - not just occasionally, but daily. A true wet-season gift.

Notes to self for next summer

• Keep the “softies” (Impatiens/Coleus) in higher, breezier spots 

• Treat them as seasonal and take cuttings in the cooler months so more plants are established, ready to replace the lost mature ones

• Refresh potting mix before the worst humidity hits

• Prune for airflow earlier (before the garden turns into a jungle)

• Always plant something for fragrance, because it changes how you feel in the garden

End of Summer Colour & Interest

Around the courtyard
- Ferns, Caladiums,  Eucharis grandiflora (Amazon Lily) and Jasmine

Under the pergola in the courtyard garden
- Allamanda, Ferns, Coleus, Impatiens, Begonia

In the shade house garden
- Impatiens, Ferns, Coleus, Caladium, Alocasia, Evolvulus 

In the outdoor garden beds
- Hymenocallis, Gloriosa, Croton, Turnera, Lagerstroemia, Mussaenda, Ixora 

Closing Thoughts

As February rolled toward its end, it felt like summer was loosening its grip - not in any dramatic way, but in small shifts: a touch more breathing space between the downpours, a slightly softer edge to the afternoons and evenings, and a garden that has proven to be both resilient and ruthless.

We're heading into early autumn with fewer pots than I started the summer with, a sharper eye on plant health, and a deep appreciation for the true heroes of these past months - the gardenia, jasmine and murraya - whose perfume turned even the muddiest, most humid wet-season into something memorable.

Until next time,
🌸 Happy gardening from the dry tropics!

Mid-Spring Notes ... My Dry Tropics Garden Journal ... Mid-Spring, Week 44, October 2025

Garden Journal Entry - Week 44

This week's weather:

Seasons:  Mid-Spring / Dry Season / Bushfire Season
Daytime Temps:  31°C - 34°C            
Night Time Temps:  24°C - 26°C
Humidity Levels: 55% - 92%  over 24 hours    
Hours of daylight:  12 hours
Rainfall:  4 mm (less than 1 inch)

☀️ Weather & Mood

Our mid-spring month is about to end, and already the air carries summer's weight.  The surrounding bushland has slipped into the brittle, beige palette of the dry season.  It's exceedingly unattractive at the moment, typical for this time of the year.

In the open outdoor garden beds, even the hardy, heat- and dry-tolerant stalwarts are showing signs of stress - leaves flagging and textures dulled.  Heat builds early; humidity surges through the day.  The soil pulls tight.  It's the time when the tough mature plants earn their keep out there.

A tiny mercy arrived this past week:  4mm of rain.  It barely kissed the outdoor beds, but the potted plants under shade or in sheltered spaces drank it like a blessing. 

🌺 Where The Colour Lives

At this time of year, I step back from those larger outdoor garden spaces (apart from occasional deep watering) and lean into the smaller spaces where I can actually make a difference.  The contrast is stark.  Out there it's survival.  In here - close to the house, in the shade house and courtyard spaces - it's small pockets of cheer that lift the mood when everything beyond looks tired and thirsty.  

Hanging baskets and pots become the canvas for colour, and because I can fine-tune light, airflow, and watering, these sheltered spaces keep the garden's spirit alive.

💧 Water Is The Work

Most dry season maintenance happens in the early hours.  I set the sprinklers before the sun climbs, or as the sun is setting, then spend time hand-watering the courtyard and shade house garden spaces.  After a long, dry season, watering the most important job - not glamorous, just essential.

🍃 Signs of Mid-Spring

• Surrounding Bushland:  Fresh, bright green leaf-flush on the Eucalyptus platyphylla (Poplar Gums).  

Their flowering is done now, and the Rainbow Lorikeets, Scaly-breasted Lorikeets, Sulphur-crested Cockatoos, Figbirds, and bees have been making the most of the last nectar and seed run.

• Close to the House:  New leaves unfurling on the Sterculia quadrifida (Peanut Tree), the deciduous Plumerias (Frangipanis), the Tabebuia heterophylla, and the Lagerstroemia speciosa (Queen's Crepe Myrtle).  Their flowering cycles are over for now as well.

• Open, Outdoor Garden Beds:  Colour (other than green) is thin on the ground, held mostly by Nerium (Oleander) blooms) - top & bottom right, the old Hibiscus rosa-sinensis - bottom left, and the Hibiscus schizopetalus shrubs - middle & top left. 

 

Sporadically, blooms can be spotted on the various Adenium obesums (Desert Roses),

the Gerberas, the Alpinia zerumbet (Shell Ginger) and the Neomarica gracillis (Walking Iris)).

🤔 The Jobs I'd Been Avoiding

At the start of this month - before the heat and humidity spiked - I finally tackled two messy corners of outdoor beds, one near the shade house and one near the car shed.  

Near the shade house, a Duranta had gone from "vigorous" to "tyrannical", crowding a Mussaenda and a couple of Lagerstroemias indica (Crepe Myrtles), and generally making the whole bed look unkempt.  Everything needed a hard reset.  

Near the car shed, an extremely vigorous climber (weed) had migrated from the yard next door and had literally smothered the top of two Hibiscus rosa-sinensis shrubs.  Removing it meant shearing off half of both shrubs, then digging out the roots of the climber.  Brutal, but necessary - the only way to give the Hibiscus a fair chance to rebound.

After two days of cutting back and clearing out, I could step back and breathe a sigh of relief.  I'm fairly sure the shrubs did too.  

The Mussaenda and the Lagerstroemias near the shade house have now sprouted new growth after their severe haircuts, and the Hibiscus is starting to recover as well.

👍 What's Working Right Now?

As I've mentioned the shade house and courtyard spaces are a sanctuary of colour and interest right now.  They are the saving grace of this mid-spring month.  Years of trial and error have taught me exactly what will perform right now without fighting a losing battle with the dry season conditions.

Plant Roster (Courtyard & Shade House Performers)

Below are the plants that consistently carry the courtyard and shade house at this time of year. These aren't strict cultivation notes - just how I use them to keep the smaller spaces lively when the big beds are struggling.

• Neomarica longifolia (Walking Iris)
  Architectural fans and occasional elegant blooms; anchors the shade corners and gives structure when blooms are scarce.

• Evolvulus
  A soft, low accent in hanging containers; useful for lightening compositions and bridging between foliage‑heavy plantings.

• Begonia semperflorens (Wax Begonias)
  Reliable dots of colour; neat habit that behaves well at eye level in baskets and along the benching.

• Petunias
  Cheerful fillers for quick impact; I rotate them through sunny edges of the courtyard for a seasonal pop.

• Salvias
  Slender spires that lift the eye above low plantings; I use them as vertical punctuation between broader leaves.

• Alyssum
  A fine, edging froth in pots; helpful for softening container lines and drawing the eye along pathways.

• Impatiens
  Shade‑friendly colour blocks; I cluster them in large pots where their steady show offsets the dryness outside.

• Pentas
  Sturdy, long‑view flowers; I use them as reliable mid‑height anchors that keep the courtyard feeling animated.

• Spathoglottis (Ground Orchids)
  Jewel‑like accents; they reward the shaded positions with a composed, tidy presence.

• Plectranthus
  Generous foliage and texture; excellent for filling gaps and cooling down hot colour combinations.

Years of trial and error taught me where to find momentum in a dry spring:  shelter, containment, and control.  Pots and baskets let me tune conditions without fighting the broader climate.  When the open garden feels parched and stubborn, these rooms of colour keep me gardening - eyes on small miracles.  The rest can wait for rain.

Until next time,
🌸 Happy gardening from the dry tropics!

Plectranthus 'Mona Lavender'

This gorgeous evergreen, quick-growing, herbaceous perennial is a definite favourite for this dry tropics gardener.  This fabulous showy compact plant belongs to the Lamiaceae or Mint family.  It's a beautiful hybrid of Plectranthus saccatus and Plectranthus hilliardiae, developed in South Africa, and well-suited to a hot, dry climate.

Plectranthus 'Mona Lavender' loves to grow in a shaded to semi-shade location with a moist but well drained soil.  It will form a small, dense, rounded shrub, reaching around 1 metre in height if planted out in the garden.  I grow two Mona's as potted plants, and they only reach around half that height!

The foliage of this Plectranthus is so attractive.  It has dark green glossy leaves with a purple-coloured underside ... but it's the dainty little flowers that are simply stunning.  I absolutely love the frothy, frilly purple cloud that appears when it's in full bloom.  'Mona Lavender' produces spikes of lavender coloured flowers that are dashed with purple markings.  They look a bit like cute little mini-orchids!

The flowers usually appear in early Summer and last right through to late Autumn. The plant will die back a little during the Winter here, so it's a great idea to give it a good trim at the end of Autumn, after flowering.  This will help maintain a neat shape and encourage denser foliage.  Fertilise with a slow release fertiliser during early Spring and you will be rewarded with a fabulous display.

Out In The Twilight Zone .... The Great Bulb Experiment!

I've started a new project this year ... and I feel that I'm now another giant step closer to being a bit of a gardening lunatic!   


When I first joined the gardening website world there was one thing that just blew me away.  There are gardeners out there who go to (what I would consider) extraordinary lengths to grow plants not at all suited to their garden's particular location or climate.


When I found out about these gardeners, I honestly thought they were right out there ... in the Twilight Zone.  (Those of us of a certain age will know exactly what that means.  For those who don't ...   it's to do with an old TV Show all about weird stuff! ... and not about vampires or werewolves!)

Now I must admit, I have seen my father ... many, many years ago ... stuffing cotton wool balls between the petals of his roses just before he loaded them into the car to take to a Flower Show ... and as a child I thought he was slightly deranged, but it seems this was nothing compared to some!!!!! 
There are gardeners who plant tree ferns in areas that get inches of snow and lots and lots of frost.

These poor old tree ferns have to be radically trimmed, wear hats and get wrapped in plastic!!! 

These gardeners might also wrap up their plants in fleece or pack them in straw to protect them from the elements.

Their garden must surely look so strange at these times of the year with these freaky caterpillar-looking shapes all over the place!


There are gardeners who grow plants in greenhouses lined in bubble wrap and/or aluminium foil with heaters blazing away for hours on end.  Seeds are raised on heated trays in heated greenhouses ... such vast amounts of energy used just to get seeds to germinate.  I have to admit I was completely unaware that these things happened.

In my part of the world ... and now I'm speaking from my somewhat limited experience as a serious gardener ... most gardeners here grow plants that are fairly well suited to the climate, weather conditions and the type of soil.

Of course we don't get snow, hail or frost here ... although, included in the list of horrid conditions we do get, are the endless days of relentless sun-baking.  But I've never seen a gardener covering their plants with umbrellas or sloshing sunscreen all over them.

Although we do grow some plants in sunshade-covered greenhouses or in pots under patio roofs for protection, I don't consider that very strange ... I would however consider it very odd if we enclosed our greenhouses and added air-conditioning!!!  This would be the comparable action to heating greenhouses ... wouldn't it?


Our approach tends to be - choose plants that are suited to the conditions, prepare the garden bed, fertilize when needed and use pest treatment if necessary.  But aside from watering them and maybe having a general conversation with them, plants don't receive extraordinary, out-of-the-ordinary attention once they're in the ground or pot.   If they die ... oh well ... try something else better suited!  If they thrive ... fantastic ... and we'll water them and feed them to keep them going.

Well ... I've now been infected with the 'let's-try-something-completely-out-there' gardening disease! I completely blame fellow online gardeners and bloggers ... yes it's all your fault!   This year I purchased bulbs that are far more suited to the more temperate/cooler areas of our great country.  They were labelled in the catalogue as 'Hot Climate Bulbs' ... so I ridiculously decided to put MY money where THEIR mouth was!
I am pretty convinced that didn't really mean my particular hot part of Oz ... but muggins here waded in hook, line and sinker.

Yes ... your eyes are not deceiving you!  There's Jonquils ... for heaven sake!!!  Am I completely nuts?  This is the tropics ... with over 300 days of temps that hover around the 30 degrees C mark and humidity levels that are usually up around 80-90% .... hardly every drop below 60%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway ... my bulbs arrived on March 1st, which is the first day of our Autumn, and ... after a rather strange conversation with a person at the online nursery that sent these ... I promptly placed them in my downstairs fridge until our Winter had begun.  Yes ... occasionally I would open the fridge door and have a little chat ... well I had reached the depths of weirdness anyway by purchasing them in the first place, so it didn't seem that out of place!

Strangely, some of the bulbs began to sprout in the fridge by the beginning of June ... our first Winter month ... so I got them out and planted them up.  I had to read instructions about how to plant them ... having had absolutely no experience with these plants whatsoever!!!

This was June 6 ... instructions carefully laid out and a ruler for measuring depths!!!  You can see some of the bulbs that have sprouted sitting on the table.  Well ... nutso here crossed her fingers, toes and eyes (rather like my children when they were very young and naive) hoping all would be well ... and placed all the containers in the greenhouse, except for the container with the Jonquils.  That one went back into the fridge ... until the daytime temps. dropped even more.

OK ... so how has the experiment gone so far? ... I can hear you all asking!

WEEK 1:  we have lift-off!

WEEK 2:  still reaching for the sky!

WEEK 3:  everything's taken off!  Think the poor Hyacinths need staking however!

Now I know you're just as fascinated as I ... but I won't bore you with more collages of the week-by-week growth ... needless to say, I'm astounded that any of them took off, let alone all of them.

Ah ... but what about those Jonquils I hear you ask!  Well the container of Chincherinchees and Jonquils came out of the fridge about a week and a half ago and here they are ..... un-be-liev-able!! 

To top all this off ... before I went off on my visit to see my boys and grandchildren, another package of Asiatic bulbs arrived.  All I had time to do was to open the plastic bags and leave them on a shelf in my Greenhouse Garden.  This is what happened while I was away ...

Now, unfortunately I've had a visit to the hospital since I've been home and I'm still recovering, so these poor things are still out there on the shelf ... and still growing madly.  I desperately needs more pots!!!  I am truly, truly reaching the depths of complete gardening insanity.  Hubbie thinks I need help!