Hollyhock Quest

Almost two decades ago, when I was a novice blogger, in a different place, in a different life, I wrote a post titled ‘Hollyhocks, Schmollyhocks’. I remember that some of the content was quite momentous in its way, but not why I chose that title. That blog is no longer online, but somewhere in my archives I have a copy of what I wrote, which I could relatively easily read again, but don’t intend to till after I finish writing and posting this.

But yesterday saw the culmination of my five year quest to grow hollyhocks in my garden, which happened as follows:

2018: I bought a tray of six small hollyhock plants from B&Q, and planted them along the sunny fence in my garden. None of them grew to more than a few inches high.

2019: In the spring, I searched along the fence for any signs of my hollyhock plants. They had all survived the winter, and I hoped that at least one would grow, but by the autumn, the only one which was still showing any sign of (rather stunted) life was the one nearest the house. I bought some hollyhock seeds.

2020: In the spring, I sought out the last surviving plant, the one nearest the house, and tended, watered and fed it, determined that I would coax it into growth at last. I guess that might have worked, if the snails hadn’t got to it (which in retrospect I concluded might have been what happened to the others). I also sowed the seeds I’d bought, but the measly few seedlings that grew big enough to be put outside in pots were also snipped off by my mollusc friends. In the autumn, on a day out in Chichester, I collected some seed pods from a 7 foot high hollyhock growing on a grass verge.

2021: In the spring, I tried to find that one plant that had been there the previous year, but with no success. I planted half the seeds I’d collected, but when they were starting to appear, I went away to visit my family, and when I came back, all the seedlings had shrivelled up. I planted some more, and managed to coax them into living long enough to make a nice tasty salad for the marauding molluscs. I still had some seeds left, and picked a few more pods on a late summer return visit to Chichester.

2022: In the spring, I planted seeds again and grew them in pots in the kitchen. When the time came to put them outside, I researched anti-mollusc methods and discovered that slugs and snails are attracted by alcohol and can be trapped by leaving out beer in shallow containers, which they fall into and drown – in fact, it’s not so much the beer as the yeast/fermentation smell that lures them, so I started putting out a concoction of yeast, sugar and water in plastic takeaway boxes around the garden, and it did the trick, to some extent.

I also bought a fairly well grown (about two feet) plant from a local garden centre – the first time I’d seen a semi-mature plant on sale. It even had flower buds, but sadly when I got off the bus I found that the tallest stem had broken, and it never did flower (last year). But it was still alive, and quite tough-looking and sturdy, so I came up with a scheme to protect it.

In my garden I have a stack of decorative border edging ceramic tiles, left behind by the previous owner. I dug out a small patch of grass by the shady fence, a square the size of one tile on each edge, put some rotted compost and plant food in the bottom, planted the hollyhock, and packed it round with coffee grounds (which are supposed to deter slugs and snails). I’m not sure why I thought the tiny walls would keep them out, given that they happily climb up the fence behind, but it made me feel better. I made another mini-wall next to the first, and two more against the sunny fence on the other side of the garden, and planted the three toughest-looking of my hollyhock seedlings, one in each. I kept them topped up with coffee grounds and watered during last summer’s drought – and the last month.

2023: Yesterday I was rewarded by my first hollyhock flowers – not from the plant I bought, but from one of the seedlings I grew myself. The spot on the sunny fence seems to suit it better than the shady side. I had no idea what colour the flowers would be until a couple of days ago, but I’m very happy with this lovely pink. The other three also have flower buds – even the two growing in the shade, so maybe there’ll be other colours too.